Page 6 of Her Alien Librarian
“Yes.”
Her look is puzzled, and also slightly enraged. “You didn’t have ridges last time. I would’ve fucking remembered ridges.”
“They are part of my true form,” I explain. “My ridges are like my horns. I only have them when I unmask.”
“Then your true form is officially my favorite.” Then she smiles wickedly as she takes me in hand once more.
A hiss escapes me through gritted teeth as I throw my head back and pump into her grip.
As good as it feels, I refuse to allow this pleasure to go only one way. Reaching between our bodies, I insert a finger into her core, then a second when the wet sound of her cunt fills the room.
“Yes,” she moans as she starts riding my hand, her breasts bouncing with the movement and putting me in a trance. “Harder.”
Thrusting into her, I watch in awe as her eyes fall closed and her long, luminous curls cascade down her shoulders. She is the most exquisite creature I have encountered on Earth, but particularly like this, when she is accepting the pleasure she so deserves to feel.
I see now why I have been unable to find another human female I am interested in having sex with. There have been many that I have bedded over the years, but none like Samantha. Since the night we shared, I have lacked interest in bedding anyone else.
I’ve shifted and flown down to Boston on multiple occasions in search of a female I find attractive, to whom I would give a fake name and fuck until my body was sated, but none of those excursions over the last year led to anything beyond a flirty conversation at a bar. I could not go through with it, and now I understand why. Those encounters would never compare to the night I met Samantha. And now she is here, wet and wanton and worth the wait.
Though her grip on my cock has loosened, Samantha’s very touch brings me closer to release with each breath. If she keeps her hand there, I will spill my seed all over it.
“Samantha, I am…close,” I say with a groan, using every cell in my body to hold back.
“No, come with me,” she says, her voice a husky whimper. She removes her hand from my cock and looks around the room. “Where are your condoms?”
I gesture toward the nightstand. “There.”
She hops up to retrieve one and tears the package open with her teeth. Then she returns to my lap and rolls the condom over my head and down my shaft. “I’m surprised these even fit you.”
“They don’t, really,” I tell her with a laugh.
She notices that the condom stops halfway down and is visibly snug with my ridges practically poking through. I expect her to laugh, but instead, she licks her lips and moves her body closer until the hardened tips of her breasts brush against my chest.
“They work only when I am masked.”
Samantha lowers herself, stroking the head of my cock along her folds. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”
I suck in a breath the moment she guides me inside. The walls of her cunt clench around the head of my cock, and a loud, keening cry escapes her lips the deeper she sinks down.
My hand covers her mouth. “Shh,” I warn her. “You don’t want Zev to hear you, right?”
Her hot breath fans my palm as she shakes her head. Then I press my forehead against hers as I pull her down until she is fully seated. She gasps against my hand as we sit there, completely still, her body adjusting to my size.
“Breathe for me,” I whisper, rubbing her back, and letting my hand linger on the parts of her back and sides that roll together. So very squeezable.
Eventually, she relaxes around me, and the sheer hunger that was written on her face before returns tenfold. She places her hands on my shoulders, and the blunt edges of her nails bite into my skin as she holds on and begins to move. The pace she sets is fast, brutal, and we become a frenzy of limbs. The sound of our bodies slapping together meets my ears, and it only adds to the desire that consumes me.
Lifting my hips, I drive into her until my sac tightens and the edges of my vision start to blur. “You feel so good,” I tell her, my voice ragged with need. “So good.”
She places her hands on either side of my face and pulls me in for a bruising kiss. “Fuck, Mylo,” she cries in a whisper-shout against my lips. “Yes!”
Panic sets in as her thighs shake and her cunt flutters around me. She is close, but I worry I am closer and will come before she does. That cannot happen. I reach my hand between us and work my thumb over her clit the way she likes. She moans into my mouth and her limbs lock up as her orgasm rips through her. I follow close behind, coming with her, my seed no doubt filling the pitifully small condom and running down the sides.
Our arms remain wrapped around each other as we come down, and I revel in the feel of her body against mine.
Just as it should be,my draxilio unhelpfully adds.
I ignore him and kiss along her collarbone, enjoying the salty taste of her skin. Then I reach the spot on her neck where she applied her perfume, and I breathe it in as deeply as I can.