Sold by the Alien: A Rough Sci-Fi Romance - Page 10

I thought I’d go to sleep pretty much immediately, but I can’t. There’s a distraction between my legs. A need that Zed sparked in me and now I can’t ignore. Lying here with the lights off, listening to the hum of the ship, I find my hand sliding down between my thighs.

* * *

“What are you doing?”

His voice catches me off guard. I did not hear him coming. Even a little. And now my fingers are inside me. I freeze and consider pretending to sleep. It does not work. I feel his weight on the bed beside me.

“What are you doing!?” I ask the question back.

“This is the only bed on the ship,” he reminds me. “I’m going to sleep.”

“With me?”

My fingers are still inside me. I am tighter than I was before. Does he know? I blush at the very idea of him knowing or having any idea at all how he affects me.

“In the same bed as you,” he says. “It’s large enough.”

It is only just large enough. And it is not large enough for me to get my fingers out of myself surreptitiously. Are they going to be stuck there all night long?

I feel the bed sink down further as he settles his full weight next to me. The ridges of his muscles press against me. The bed isn’t actually big enough for the both of us, but we can make it work. Specifically, we can make it work if I slip right over to the very edge and lay on my side so I’m taking up less room. Zed turns the light off. I relax. I’ll wait for him to go to sleep, and then…

“Do you always sleep with your hand inside you?”

The question comes lumbering out of the darkness and somehow catches me off-guard.

“No…” I pull my fingers free. The game is up.

“What were you doing, Ava?”

I blush so furiously I am certain I will light up the room with the intensity of my embarrassment. I have to be burning calories at an astounding rate to keep up this level of hot-flashing humiliation.

“Does it matter?”

“Honesty and obedience matter.” He sits up and turns the light on. I attempt to stifle myself with a pillow. The gambit fails. Zed pulls the pillow away from my face and looks down at me with that handsome and all too curious purple gaze.

“I was touching myself,” I tell him.

“Why?”

“For my pleasure.”

“Oh,” he says. “I could touch you for your pleasure. Remember?”

“You care about my pleasure?”

“You’re my partner,” he says. “I want to make sure you are taken care of, in all your needs. Show me what lies between your thighs again. I’ve missed it.”

He asks, and I oblige. This is the first time I have felt as though he is giving me an option. I don’t have the luxury of pretending I am being forced. When I push back the blankets and spread my legs it is because I want him to see me. Want him to touch me.

“Very beautiful,” he compliments me. He reaches out and strokes the soft pelt of downy hair covering my mound. It is a careful touch, but I still find myself holding my breath through it. He strokes me gently, taking care of every inch of me, his big fingers toying with the hot little core of me like a promise. I know he will soon be inside me. I just don’t know with what.

Then he reveals himself.

I see his cock for the first time, and I am immediately intimidated and intrigued. He is thick and he is green. Very green. Like the rest of his body, it is a much larger appendage than most humans have. It has to be at least ten inches long, perhaps eleven. The head is shaped in a flared bulb not entirely unlike a human. I heard once that penises are designed to scoop the semen of competing males out of a vagina. That means that both his species and ours have had biologically significant historical instances of group mating. All I can think about right now is him. Him and his big, veined, throbbing, green cock which is thicker than my fist at the very base.

“It’s too big,” I gasp.

“Humans use their vaginas to birth infants,” he reminds me. “My cock could be considerably larger and still not be too large. Touch me.”

I do as he says, wrapping my fingers around his dick just below the head. He is titanium hard, but his dick has much more movement in it than a human male’s which is nothing but a stiff bone. I feel it move sinuously in my grasp, like a thick, hard snake.

“Oh my god,” I gasp.

“This will reach every part of you,” he promises. I feel that internal clenching again, that need growing, that wetness seeping from inside me. The prospect of being fucked by this cock, attached to this massive, muscular alien to whom I owe my life, is driving me to a special kind of desire.

Tags: Loki Renard Science Fiction
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