Barbarian Alien (11 page)

That gets my attention. I watch his arms flex as he undoes the laces in the front of his chest and then removes his own tight-fitting tunic. Then he’s down to his tall boots and his breechcloth. I’m totally creeping on him at this point, watching his ass flex as he undoes the ties on his breechcloth and it slides to the ground. He steps out of it, lifting one leg with casual grace, and I see the sway of his balls from between his legs. Then his ass flexes again and his tail lashes, and I just stare.

Why is a tail sexy to me? Why does the sight of it flicking over that taut ass do terrible, nasty things to my girl parts? He glances over his shoulder at me, and the look is so heated, I get all aroused and squirmy. I’m not sure if us being naked together is a good idea, but I also don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.

And…I kinda don’t want to.

He turns to face me again and his cock juts forward from his body, long and obvious. He’s completely erect, and I try not to stare at his different anatomy. I’m no virgin, but Raahosh has a monstrously huge dick, and to top it off, it seems to have…ridges along the top, the bumpy, rough plated areas like his arms and chest have.

That will either feel really awesome or really awful.

I frown as I stare at the blunted horn a few inches above his cock. I remember it from last time, but the sight of it baffles me as much with a second viewing. “What’s that for?”

He steps forward and his hand caresses it in a way that makes me feel filthy with lust. “My spur?” He shrugs. “It is part of my body.”

“Yes, but does it have a purpose? I mean, other than to freak out Earth girls?”

Raahosh takes my hand and moves me toward the nest of furs. “Do your men not have such things?”

“Yeah, that’s a big no.”

“Do I frighten you? Is that why you turn me away?” He looks almost hopeful.

Weird. “I’m not scared of you.”

His expression blackens. “Then you turn me away for other reasons.”

“Reasons like, oh hey, it’s not my choice? That’s enough reason for me.” I thump to the blankets and slide into them, scooting to the far edge of the nest. The blankets make a nice, snuggly bed, but they don’t make a very large one.

He doesn’t get into bed next to me, and I hike the covers up to conceal my breasts, suddenly embarrassed. I’m the only one, because he squats next to the bed and studies me, and his cock sticks out like a third leg as he rubs his chin and muses. I try not to make eye contact with, ahem, his small head.

“Is it because I am ugly?” he asks after a long moment. “Is that why you hate being mated to me?” He rubs the scars on the side of his face thoughtfully.

I frown up at him. “You’re not ugly.”

“I am scarred. Surely you have noticed.”

I snort. “I’m not blind. It’s a little obvious.”

His expression closes off and he gets to his feet. I’ve hurt his feelings. Damn it, the man’s more prickly than even I am. I clasp his ankle to stop him, and he gazes down at me with those narrow, blade-sharp eyes that seem to hide all emotion. “You misunderstand me,” I say. I don’t know why it matters to me that I don’t hurt him, but it does. “I think it’s obvious that you’re scarred. You’re missing a horn. But I didn’t say it was unattractive.” I lick my lips. “I kind of like it.”

His eyes narrow again.

My fingers slide over the soft suede of his ankle, caressing the hard tendons under his flesh. There’s not an inch of him that is soft with fat. He’s all lean and wild and…well, even if I didn’t have a cootie, he would probably be my type. “The only thing I don’t like about this situation is the fact that I don’t have choices. It’s not you. It’s me. Does that make sense?”

He squats again, and his cock comes precariously near my hand. I try not to notice, try being the key word. “There is no choice when it comes to mating. The khui decides. It is what makes strong children.”

“Back where I am from, the woman decides.” Okay, that might be a little broad, since a lot of women don’t get to decide, but I’m running with it. “The man courts her and she lets him know if she appreciates his efforts.”

He flings his arms wide, gesturing at the cave. “Do I not court? Is this not all effort to show you how I can provide?”

“Kidnapping me from the others and then pretending like it’s courting doesn’t count, no,” I snap. “You know what? I give up on trying to be nice. You’re determined to take everything I say the wrong way. Forget it.” I lie back in bed and pull the covers up, then turn on my side so my back is to him.

He lies down next to me. Of course he does. The man wouldn’t know the word ‘no’ if it bit him in the face. I ignore him anyhow, determined to go to sleep. He wants to lie down like a couple? That’s fine – this can be his first experience with the wifely cold shoulder.
Welcome to married life, Raahosh.

I roll my eyes at nothing when he reaches for my arm and strokes it. “Did you change your mind?”

“Change my mind?” I don’t turn to look at him, because if I do, he might get a fist in the face.

“About hunting? Do you not want to go in the morning?”

My jaw clenches. “You are such a blackmailing jerk.”

He pauses. His hand strokes down my arm, eliciting a response that ticks me off almost as much as his next comment. “I do not understand these words. What is a jerk?”

“Your people. Next question?”

He grunts, and I can’t tell if he’s annoyed at my snide commentary. “Black…mail? What is this?”

“That’s when you force me to do things I don’t want in exchange for something that I do want.”

This time he makes a sound of disbelief. His long fingers trail up and down over my skin, and it prickles in response. My pulse beats hard between my legs, and I can feel myself getting wet just at that small touch. “You say you do not want it. The only thing that says you do not want this is your mouth.”

“It’s allowed to have its say, too.”

“It says plenty,” he comments sourly.

“And see, shit like that is why you don’t get laid.” I pull away from him. “Quit touching me.”

He chuckles and leans in, his mouth brushing over my skin. “Ah. More of this mating ritual? I remember it from before.”

And his hand covers my breast, squeezing my nipple.

I sputter and flick his hand away even as my cootie starts a symphony with his. “What are you doing?”

His hand returns to my breast, his big arm pinning my flailing ones. He caresses and cups my breast while holding me down, and begins to nibble along my shoulder. “I am courting you as you have shown me. You tell me not to touch you…which is human mating talk for me to pleasure you.”

“It is
not
!” But then I remember holding his face down between my legs, grinding against him with my pussy.
I don’t want you to touch this.

Well, damn. I have been sending this boy some mixed up signals, haven’t I? Time to explain. “Raahosh, I think we need to have a little talk. I–” My words cut off in a surprised yelp when his fangs score my shoulder, and my nerve endings go wild. That should not have felt as good as it did. That should not have made my entire body sing. But my cootie’s gone mad with delight, and when he nibbles on my shoulder again and drags his tongue over my neck, I don’t fight. And when his hand goes between my legs to cup my mound?

I’m wet. I’m so wet.

And I moan, unable to resist.

“You see,” he murmurs, his tongue brushing against my ear. Oh, it’s ridged. I keep forgetting it’s ridged, too, and the rasp of it against my flesh makes me wild. “I am learning how to court you, my Liz.” His fingers glide through my folds, and then dip, seeking my slick heat. One caresses the opening to my core, and I arch against him, wishing for more than just a finger. I feel the hard, impossible length of his cock against my back, and I want to be filled with it.

“No sex,” I breathe out. Truth be told, if he rolled me onto my stomach and pushed into me from behind, I’d probably be just fine and dandy with it. But a girl’s got to hold on to her standards.

“I am still courting you, my mate,” he says in a low voice, his throat humming with the ferocity of the cootie resonating in his chest to match mine. “Allow me to lick and pleasure you for tonight, as we promised.”

Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Oh, who am I kidding? I want his touch
yesterday
. I need his hands all over me. I need him to keep exploring my body and stop with soft touches and get down to some dirty, dirty business. “Raahosh,” I moan, reaching back to touch him. My hand slides into the thick mane of his dark hair and I find a horn. I clutch at it, happy for the handlebar as he strums my body with his fingers, his chest purring hard against my own.

“Your nectar fills your cunt for me,” he murmurs into my ear, and then tenderly licks the shell. “Shall I sip it and taste of my mate?”

“That is so corny of you,” I breathe, but damn, his corny lines are getting me all squirmy with need. His finger keeps circling my aching core, and I want nothing more than for him to push it deep and start fucking me with his big fingers instead of just teasing me.

“Corny?”

“Just another saying,” I tell him, and then make a weird mewing noise when he dips his finger inside me. “Oh God, keep touching me like that.”

“Do you want my fingers?” He buries his face against my neck, and I feel the rasp of the hard ridges on his brow against my chin as he nuzzles my throat. My breasts ache for his touch, and I begin to play with my nipples, rocking my hips against his finger that feels just barely inside me. “Or do you want me to lick the nipple between your legs until you scream my name?”

A horrified giggle escapes my throat. “Did you just say n-nipple? Between my legs?”

That gets his attention. He sits up and frowns down at me. “Is that not what it is?”

“No! Nipples are on breasts!”

His hand leaves my pussy and slides to my breasts, and I moan when his wet fingers begin to trace a circle around one areola. “These are nipples, yes?”

I nod, unable to speak. His touch feels too good.

“Humans are so soft,” he comments, flicking his big thumb over my taut nipple and then rolling it between his fingers, fascinated by the hard nub of it. “We are not built like this.”

“No?” I shift until I’m on my back instead of my side, and I’m gazing up at him. I reach up and boldly caress one of his pectorals, sliding my hand over his nipple and feeling it. Sure enough, it feels like a rock. My fingers flick over it, and I’m surprised. “Wow. That’s…different.”

The breath hisses from his throat at my touch. Encouraged, I keep rubbing my thumb over his nipple – even though it’s already hard, I can tell he’s enjoying my touch.

He caresses my breast a moment longer, and then his mouth dips toward mine. I meet it, even though I tell myself that kissing him is not smart. That it’s going to lead to nothing but false expectations. I can’t help myself, though. The moment that velvety skin brushes against mine and his lips meet my lips, I’m a goner. I kiss him back, reveling in the feel of his hard mouth. He licks at my tongue, even as his hand caresses my breast, and I push against him. My arms twine around his neck and I pull him down against me, feeling his big, heavy chest against my breasts. The ridges along his skin – rough, hard patches on his arms and the center of his chest – feel odd mixed in with the plush suede of the rest of his skin, but when I rub my nipples up against him, the dichotomy feels incredible. I moan again, lost in the sensation.

His cock prods my abdomen, and I feel the hot beads of pre-cum drag against my skin, leaving wet trails. He continues to kiss me, his tongue dancing against mine, and his hand moves down my side and rests on my hip. “If it is not a nipple, then what is it?”

I chuckle against his mouth, amused by his alien lack of understanding about female anatomy. Really, I suppose it does make sense to think it’s a nipple. “It’s called a clitoris. Or a clit, for short.”

His hand slides to my pubic hair and he drags his fingers through it before finding my clit again. He brushes the tips of his fingers over it in a careful exploration that makes me grip him against me, hard. “And what purpose does it serve?”

“It, um, just feels good.” I don’t know if the clit has any sort of anatomical purpose. It’s not like a kidney or anything. My breath explodes when he circles it with his finger again. “Oh God. Really, really good.”

“Mm? So you like it when I touch it?”

I cry out and my fingernails dig into his skin when he continues the indolent, aggravating circles around the small patch of sensitive skin. I lift one leg and wrap it around his hips, and my pelvis bucks against his touch. “God, yes. Please…”

“Will you say my name, Liz?” He presses light kisses to my mouth even as he continues to touch my clit in maddeningly slow, grazing motions.

I lick my lips, whimpering with his touches. “Why?”

“Because I want to hear my mate say my name when she comes for me,” he murmurs, and nips at my chin.

Another whimper escapes my throat. “How…” God, it’s getting hard to think. I just want to grab his hand, shove his big fingers inside me, and ride until I’m coming like a madwoman. “How do you know…I’m about to come?”

“Are you not?” His teeth graze my chin, and then he begins to lick down my neck. “Shall I drink your sweet nectar from the source until you do?”

“Oh God,” I moan. My fingernails dig into his shoulders. His filthy, weird words are going to make me come like crazy. I’m so close as it is. “Raahosh…I need a finger inside me. Fuck me with your hand.”

He groans against my throat and his tongue flicks against the cords of my neck. “Say my name again and I shall give you whatever you want.”

“Raahosh,” I cry, and one big finger brushes against my core again. This time when I arch against him, it sinks deep. I bellow his name again, and my cootie gives a long, hard shiver of delight in my chest. “Just like that! Oh God!”

“Say it again,” he demands, and thrusts into me with his finger.

I buck against it, clinging to him. “Raahosh! Raahosh!” My cootie purrs so loud I feel as if it’s drowning me out, and then when he thrusts again, his thumb grazes my clit. My body explodes and I repeat his name with a keening cry as I come.