Page 9 of Mated to the Grumpy Alien

She tastes like the most decadent of liquors, the richest of desserts, heady and needy and the very embodiment of lust. I spread her folds with my thumbs licking around her pink hole and up to the hidden bundle.

Fingers thread through my hair and she undulates her hips underneath me. My tongue explores her tender flesh and she cries out. I rock myself into the hard floor beneath us, looking for any pressure to dispel the urgency of my need. I can be patient, I remind myself.

This is for her. Because she needs me. Her body called out and I answered because that is my duty.

She moans a word that sounds like “Hercules.” Thankfully the cultural background and languages that Cyg uploaded to my translator chip are working. She is calling to her gods.

I slide one finger inside her tight channel and nearly spill in my trousers. She is so small, her body so unyielding to me it is a wonder how we will fit together when it is the time for us to join. For now though she seems to enjoy the plunging of my digit inside her body and the attention I am giving to her little bundle.

Her body tightens around my finger, then her body bows off the bed as a wave of pleasure pulses through her. Fresh juices coat my tongue as she screams in delight.

The completion of her climax settles something inside of me. I kiss her mound, then crawl up her body, intent on kissing her lips.

But when I look down into her lovely face, I am met with wide, round eyes full of shock.

“What the hell was that?” she whispers.

“I brought you pleasure, my mate.”

“I don’t even know your name. You don’t know my name. I’ve never been naked with anyone.”

She is clearly distressed. I roll off of her, replacing my body with the covers I previously moved. I don’t want her to get cold.

“I don’t know what things are like in your culture, but you can’t just go down on a woman whenever you want.”

“Go down?” This term is not translating beyond the physical directions, going down.

She points to her blanket-covered pussy. “You can’t just put your mouth wherever you want it.”

“You did not enjoy that?” I ask, knowing the truth of the matter because I felt every pulse of her pleasure as if it were my own.

“Whether or not I enjoyed it is not the point. We do not know each other.”

“Our souls know. The Tides of Be’lah have brought you to me. It has been decided.”

“Awesome.”

chapter

seven

Cressida

My body is still shaking from the aftershocks of my orgasm when he starts kissing his way up my body. At least … I think that was an orgasm.

Given that it was more powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life, it’s hard to say for sure. As a virgin, with little to no experience having orgasms that aren’t self-induced, I’d always assumed that the things my friends told me about oral sex were exaggerations.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Or maybe this guy has a magic tongue.

That is the thought that snaps me out of my post-orgasm stupor. Maybe this guy has a magic tongue.

This guy.

This guy whose name I don’t even know.

This guy who has naturally golden skin, is built like a god, and who rescued me from barbarians.