Leah's Hero - Miranda Martin Page 0,51

his face, my core tightens. There is one sure way to warm us, and he looks so damn good. His hair is pasted to his head, random strands hanging down across his forehead. I climb onto his lap, pressing my breasts against his chest, and run my fingers through his wet hair.

I like the texture of it, soft but thick with soft curls that wrap around his small horns. His horns are not big like some of the men, little nubs that protrude from right past his hairline. He closes his eyes and lifts his head emitting a soft moan.

I wrap my legs around his waist, and his massive erection presses hard against my pussy that is wet from a lot more than the rain. I groan as desire reaches a peak.

He runs his arms up and down my back, leaning his head back and parts his lips. He doesn’t push forward, giving control to me.

I take it.

He’s mine. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted a man.

I wrap my hands in his hair and jerk his head to mine. Our teeth click but then his soft lips meld with mine. I drive my tongue into his mouth, seeking his.

I grind my hips, his hard cock teasing my clit, and he groans into my mouth. The cold isn’t a problem any longer—he’s hot and I’m burning.

He grips my ass, jerking me against him. I fall into him without breaking the kiss until my pussy spasms and I gasp. He thrusts up and down with his hips. His cock feels massive and rock hard rubbing against me.

I kiss his forehead and up to his small horns while he kisses my neck and down the opening of my blouse.

I want his mouth on my tits. I lean back, causing my pussy to rub harder, grabbing at the restraining buttons. I barely stop myself from ripping the shirt open. I don’t have another and that would be stupid.

The buttons resist. “Damn it.”

I fumble with them then Urukol places his hands over mine.

“Help,” he says.

Feeling reluctant I pull my hands away and let him do it. He’s gentle, controlled, unfastening each button with a determined care. I’m breathing fast, my chest rising and falling, my tits pushing trying to break free long before he has undone enough buttons.

All my attention is on the slow, delicate process. Enthralled by the care he gives to each one. His eyes studying my skin as each button exposes more. The concentration of his face is as if he’s committing every goose-bump of my chilled skin to memory.

His intensity in this simple act is sexy, but so much more. It’s him, the way he gives his full attention to each motion. Taking care that each one is exactly right. It’s a devotion, not only to undoing my buttons, no. To me. He’s devoting himself and this moment to me.

My heart skips and my throat clenches tight, causing me to gasp. He pauses, looking up, and when our eyes meet, the love in his envelopes me. This is so much more than sex.

“Treasure,” he whispers, and I shiver.

I grasp his face between my hands and kiss him. A kiss deeper than any I’ve given or received in all my life. I run my hands down his neck, over his shoulders, pausing when my hand reaches the twisted scar tissue. He flinches, it’s subtle but unmistakable.

I break the kiss and he averts his eyes. He’s ashamed but has no reason for it. I kiss his neck then I softly kiss my way across the scars that mar his shoulder and drop onto his chest. He gulps air, his cock pulsing between us.

I drop my free hand down and slide it under his pants, seeking his hard member. I pause as my fingers touch it for the first time. It’s strange feeling, I can’t figure it out, my mind won’t form a picture of why it feels so different.

There’s nothing for it but to see. I want to see his cock, taste his cock, feel it inside me.

I scoot back along his legs to free up space to loosen his pants and see it. As the loose cloth all the Zmaj wear for pants falls down, his impressive erection rises on display. I bite my lip.

It’s huge, but not unmanageable. That’s not the part that gives me pause. It’s… ribbed. Up and down the top side there are bone ridges, and at its base, as if designed specifically for a human