Page 28 of Aura Awakened

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Page 28 of Aura Awakened

She looks enchanted. “I want to meet one! Which reminds me, do people on Acacia keep pets?”

“Some do. Mostly mizzlemice, which are small and gray and help keep forest beetles out of the home. They are also pretty fluffy, come to think of it.” I pull out my comm unit and find a picture of one.

“Oh! It looks like a cross between a guinea pig and a chinchilla! If I’m going to be living here, I might have to get one. I kept meaning to adopt a cat, or maybe a dog, but I never got around to it. Though I suppose, given my current situation, that’s a good thing.” She shrugs.

It’s only been a few hours since our meeting on the base, but I can still sense the shift. The more time we spend together, the more accepting she seems to be about the whole situation with Earth, to the point that she casually agreed to live here. I don’t know if it’s really because of what Cynara said, or if Aura is just increasingly captivated with the planet. Or if the bond really is working overtime to develop her attachment to me. Maybe all three. Whatever the reason, I can’t say I mind.

We wander the garden until the suns have set and the three moons cast everything in silvery shimmers. The temperature always drops dramatically after sunsdown, and I catch Aura shivering.

“Let’s go inside,” I tell her. “It’ll be warmer. Besides you haven’t eaten all day. You must be hungry.”

“A bit,” she says. “But do you even have food?”

I laugh. “Some. Just because I don’t need to eat often doesn’t mean I can’t. I can eat for pleasure, so I keep a few things on hand. Let’s see what we can find.”

We go back in and I settle her on the couch with a blanket before I go scrounging around in my tiny kitchen. I manage to put together a bowl of edible plants that I think will be satisfying for her.

“A salad!” she says when I present it to her. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that excited about it, but after days of nutrition bars, fresh food is incredibly appealing.”

I sit with her while she eats, marveling the fact that this woman is somehow mine. She’s brave, she’s compassionate, she’s generous. Gorgeous. Funny. And fate thought it appropriate to pair her with me, which makes me the luckiest Acacian in the world.

When she’s finished, I can’t help myself. I slide a hand behind her neck and draw her close, pouring all the wonder and passion I feel for her into the kiss.

She moans and leans in, and I deepen the kiss. I palm her waist, edging up the hem of her tank top. I hear her encouragement in my mind, and that’s the only cue I need to yank the thing over her head. I cup her breasts, plumping them as I tease her nipples with my thumbs.

She breaks the kiss, panting, and stands. My heart skips a beat, thinking I somehow misread her, but then she shucks her jeans, baring herself to me completely.

I grin at her. “No panties?”

“Are you kidding? I’d been wearing those things for days. You can only rinse them in the sink and turn them inside out so many times. There was no way I was putting them back on after I finally got a shower.”

I slide off my own pants, revealing a similar commando situation.

She laughs. “Great minds.”

I give my already-hard cock a stroke, and the laughter dies in her throat. She watches intently, slowly lowering herself to her knees in front of me.

She gives me a hooded look. “I want to taste you.”

AURA

Fillian has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, no question. Then again, he’s a mountain of a man, a good two feet taller than I am, so it’s proportional. As male anatomy goes, it’s not the prettiest part on any of them (give me that V-cut of the obliques along the hips, thank you very much), but his is appealing. Big, but velvety. Thick, not leaning too far one way or overly veined.

I lower my head and give it a long, slow lick, enjoying the way his breath catches and his abs clench. “Take off your shirt,” I order, wanting to see his impressive physique, including the V-cut I enjoy so much. He does as I ask, revealing his soldier’s body.

There’s no soft and pampered prince here, just muscles for days. He has enough chest hair to be manly without being too much, and the bark-like texture of his skin extends all the way down, rippling across his abdominals. The wound on his shoulder has healed, but there’s a small mark left behind, which matches the smattering of other scars that dot his body.

It’s a body made for worship, and I get down to business.

I slide my mouth over his cock, taking him deep, tongue swirling over his sensitive tip. He moans and opens his senses, making sure I feel every ounce of the pleasure I’m giving him. My nipples tingle in response, and I can feel dampness along my inner thighs.

I’ve never minded giving blow jobs; I get off on the power of making a man feel good, of having him at my mercy…just a little. Right until he takes over, pins my wrists, and makes me beg. But that power, coupled with the ability to actually know what he feels? Erotic with a capital E.

I slide along his length, slow and torturous, teasing him with everything I’ve got. A slow lick here, a hard pop there. It doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting helplessly into my mouth, his hips taking control. I can feel him getting closer and closer to the edge, dark pleasure swamping his senses.

And then suddenly, he’s moving, cupping my armpits and lifting me up like I weigh nothing. He seats me smoothly on that thick cock, impaling me so that I gasp at the suddenness of it.

Of course, he knows exactly how turned on I am, how much I want this very thing. He feels it from me as clearly as I sense his own desire.




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