by Ruby Dixon
"Why wouldn't there be a next time?"
She shrugs. "I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't like. Some guys aren't into that kind of thing."
"Sophie." I touch her cheek, fascinated by the curve of her soft mouth. "I would have you for my meal twice a day if I could. Nothing tastes better than you."
Her eyes gleam with pleasure, and her smile grows broader with relief. "Oh, good. Because that was amazing and I definitely want to do it again." She grabs my collar, burying her face against my throat, and giggles. "I liked it a LOT."
My heart aches. She's so precious to me, this female. "Then I will do it, a lot. It will be my pleasure, trust me."
Sophie smiles and moves a little closer to me, her nose rubbing against mine. She beams another blindingly bright smile in my direction and then kisses me. "Mmm. You taste like me."
"You've tasted yourself before?"
She shrugs. "Out of curiosity when I was younger. It doesn't taste like you though."
I love her taste. I love the musky, sultry flavor of her slick. "And what do I taste like?"
"Mmmm." She considers for a moment. "Bitter?"
Figures. "That sounds like me, yeah."
Sophie wiggles closer, kissing me again. "You're not bitter to me. You're perfect."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I do have a reputation for being a bit of an unpleasant male," I tell her, even as her lips move along my jaw in the lightest of nibbles. My cock is so hard I'm leaking into my trou, but she feels so keffing good I just want to etch this moment into my mind for all time.
"You can be unpleasant to everyone else," she whispers. "As long as you're always perfect to me."
"I would never be unpleasant to you." I touch her shoulder, unable to resist caressing one of the enticing breasts that are bare and so very close nearby. "At least, not now that I know you." I lean in and kiss her, tongues tangling, and thumb her nipple. It stiffens against my touch, and she lets out a low moan against my mouth.
Mine.
The word pulses through my mind once more. I can't wait to fill her with my seed, to push so deep inside her that her body quakes around mine. The thought makes me pause. "I…can't make you pregnant, can I? Do we need to get plas-film?"
"No." She arches against my hand, her mouth greedy on mine. "You…me…we're not compatible…without help." She speaks between kisses. "Can't happen."
I'm oddly disappointed. I suspected as much, but the idea of filling Sophie with my child is a pleasant one. If I got her pregnant…I could keep her forever. But that'd also trap her, and I would never do such a thing. It's just a wild, possessive thought, like so many that I have when it comes to Sophie. "All right."
It just means I need to make every moment with her special. So I kiss her gently, my hand on her soft breast. The nipple is tight under my touch, and I tease it even as I claim her mouth. It doesn't take long for Sophie's sated expression to change, for her sighs to become more urgent. She makes an impatient sound when I pull back to rip the towel off my hips and toss it onto the floor.
I glance down at her inviting body and realize for the first time…just how small she is compared to a mesakkah female. How delicate. My hand looks enormous against her chest, and I worry I'm going to hurt her. That this will be uncomfortable for her. My prosthetics are heavy and I'm not as flexible as other males. What if I press on something sensitive without meaning to and harm her? What if my circuits act up? What if—
"Jerrok," Sophie says softly. She touches my arm, gazing up at me with a tender expression. "It's okay. It's just sex."
"Not with you." I shake my head. "With you, everything is different. Everything is…more."
She smiles at me and takes my hand in hers, moving it from her breast to her cunt. "This is for you," she whispers. "Feel how wet I am. All that arousal is for you. You make me feel good, and I want to have sex with you. I don't care if it's brief, or messy, or awkward. I still want to share it with you."
I groan, kissing her again as I stroke through her slippery heat. She liked it when I tongued her channel earlier, and I press a fingertip there. She's wet and yielding, and whimpers against my mouth when I push my finger deeper. Kef me, but she feels tight.
Her hands lock behind my neck and she bites at my lower lip. "More, Jerrok."
"I will." I lick at her parted lips, teasing her as I pump my finger in and out of her cunt. Her body makes slick sounds with the movements, and each one seems to prick at my cock in a not-so-silent invitation. Watching her face carefully, I add a second finger, thrusting gently, and when her body accepts it, I eventually add a third.
Sophie moans, clinging to me as I work her pretty cunt with my hand. She's a beautiful sight, this female, her breasts heaving with each panting breath. "Good girl," I murmur to her as she takes all three fingers. "My good girl."
She gasps, and I can feel her cunt flutter around my hand, squeezing. Kef, she likes that so much.
"You're my girl, aren't you?" I croon to her as I pull my fingers from her body and lick them clean, unable to resist another taste of her. "My gorgeous, sweet female."
With an eager nod, Sophie reaches between us and runs her fingertips over my cock. "I need you, Jerrok. Please."
She's as ready as I can make her. Fighting back a surge of worry, I carefully ease my larger body over hers. Sophie spreads her legs, encircling them around my hips. I brace my weight on either side of her so I don't crush her, and slowly settle my cock against her cunt. She gives me an encouraging smile, her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and she's so beautiful that my heart feels as if it stutters in my chest.
I'm not worthy of such beauty and such a generous spirit, but I'm going to keffing try to make her happy.
Utterly conscious of that thought, I lean in to kiss her, my body straining with the effort of not resting any part against her except my cock.
She reaches between us again, her fingers grazing my cock as she arches her hips. "You can't break me, Jerrok. I promise."
I give her a tight nod and fit my cock at the entrance to her core. For a moment, I'm transfixed at the sight of my piercings resting against her skin, the head of my cock teasing at her entrance. Kef me, but that's gorgeous. With a hiss of breath, I use my hand to guide my cock into her, as slowly as possible. I watch as her cunt stretches to accommodate me, fascinated at the sight.
Sophie moans, and I feel her cunt twitching as I feed my length into her. "God, you feel good," she tells me. "You're so big."
I've barely given her more than the tip and I feel as if I'm going to shatter into a thousand pieces. Biting back another groan, I continue to stretch her, pushing ever so slightly deeper and shuttling my shaft into her body as I do. I love the sounds she makes, the whimpers coming from her throat, the wet, welcoming squelch of her cunt as I dip in and out, working her so she can take more of me. I've never felt quite so oversized or powerful as I do in this moment.
"More," she breathes, her eyes closed with sheer bliss. "More, more."
She's destroying my control. I grit my teeth and sink deeper with the next thrust, loving the way her cunt clasps me so tightly as I pump into her. Deeper…deeper…and then my spur drags through her folds as I sink to the hilt. I suck in a breath, fascinated at the squeeze of her body around my cock. Nothing has ever felt so keffing good.
She doesn't stay still, though. Sophie wriggles, gasping. "So big…"
I freeze. "Should I pull out?"
"God, no." She rocks her hips, as if trying to work me deeper, and makes a startled sound when my spur glides against her clit. "Oh god, you feel so good."
Fierce pleasure rolls through me at her response. I pull back slowly, until my shaft is almost completely free of her warmth, and then sink deep again. She makes that choked noise again, her lips parting, but no words come out.
"Good girl," I rasp, my entire being filled with that possessive hunger again. I run a hand down her front, my fingers moving over her collarbones and breast. "Such a good girl
as you take all of me."
"Everything," she whimpers, and her cunt spasms around me. She really does like it when I praise her in bed. It makes her body respond wildly, as if my words alone can make her come.
So I thrust into her again, and as I do, I tell her about how beautiful she is, how good she's gripping my cock, how perfect her pretty cunt is as she squeezes me. I tell her all about how good she is to take all of this, how she's going to come for me so hard, and all the while, her excitement ratchets up visibly. A broken sob escapes her as her cunt clenches hard around my cock, and I soothe her with more gentle words, about how perfect she is, even as I pound into her willing body.
Sophie meets my every movement, raising her hips as I rock into her. The first few times are awkward, but after that, we find a rhythm, and I lean over her, bracing on my arms as I move faster and faster, hammering into her just because it feels so keffing good. Her hands are frantic as they cling to me, my name choking over and over again on her lips. There's a messy perfection to our joining—it's not beautiful, or graceful, but it's ours and being here with Sophie feels like I'm home.
When her sheath ripples around me, she sucks in a breath, and in the next moment, her entire body seems to tighten. Her nails dig into the plated protection on my arm, as if she's desperately trying to anchor herself. All the while, she tightens around me and I realize that she's coming again. I've made her come twice, this time harder than the first. Her release spurs mine on, and with a few more messy thrusts, I can hold back no longer. I sink deep, pounding into her, and finally let go. My release floods out of me like a dam breaking, and my entire body feels as if it's falling apart, so hard do I come. I collapse, the air gone from my lungs as I struggle not to drown in the pleasurable sensations.
For a time, there's nothing but the sound of our fevered, raspy breathing.
"Mmm," Sophie says eventually, and her fingers trail over my brow. She brushes a lock of hair off my face, wearing a sleepy smile of her own. "I liked that."
Her body twitches under mine, and I'm chagrined to realize that I'm crushing her under me. "Sorry—didn't realize—"
"It's okay." Sophie twines her arms around my neck, pulling me back down again. "You're heavy, but it's not a bad heavy. It feels good."
Reluctantly, I relax against her again. I kiss her, then ease my weight off of her because I can't relax, imagining that I'm crushing her. The moment I shift my weight, my arm starts to jump in response, and one of my legs locks up. With a grimace, I roll to the side and start to massage the offending limbs. "Give me a moment."
"I'll help." Sophie's hands are on my legs a moment later, her fingers moving in a massage. "Would a shower help? We could take one together."
"Maybe." I'm a little ashamed. I should be taking care of her right now. "It isn't your responsibility to try and help a broken idiot who pushed himself too far—"
She silences me with a kiss, leaning over to press her lips to mine. "You be nice. I happen to like that idiot."
Like.
I'm torn between being flattered by her words or being full of despair. Like is just…like. It could mean anything. Sophie “likes” it here and she “likes” me, but it's not enough to make her stay.
56
SOPHIE
The next morning, I'm sore all over. Even after a hot shower, every muscle in my body aches. It's silly. It's not like I used my thigh muscles for anything specific, but I feel like I ran a marathon, or did an intense yoga class…or, well, did an intense alien.
I giggle to myself as I crunch my morning noodles. Man, I am in a great mood. I had amazing sex last night. And this morning, I was woken up with oral sex. I've decided that it's better than coffee to wake a girl up, and giggle to myself again.
Best of all, Bethiah is leaving.
I can't say I'm particularly sad about that. I take another bite of dried noodles, my feet propped up on the “dashboard” of The Pleasure Spot as I watch Jerrok work. Bethiah hovers nearby, her hair pulled up in an ornate knot between her horns, covered with more tinkling silver ornaments. She wears a yellow and deep blue jumper emblazoned with her ship's new logo, and I have to admit she looks nice despite all the weapons strapped to her waist. She's got a good enough heart, Bethiah, and I know she's Jerrok's family, but that good heart is overtaken by a loud mouth and a busybody attitude. I'm more than ready for her to go.
My aching hips twinge and I shift in my seat.
Bethiah looks over at me and smirks. "Rough night?"
I don't answer her. I let Jerrok's glare speak for both of us.
"Tough crowd. Glad my business is done here." She sighs and leans over Jerrok's chair as he works. Her ship has been repainted and I watched with interest as Jerrok created falsified flight records for The Pleasure Spot, uploading them to a distant station that he has an inside connection with. I'm so impressed with everything he can do, and he's never looked sexier as he sits on the stool and uploads the fake logs to the comm unit while Bethiah watches.
Or maybe he's just making me all squirmy with arousal because I know just how he uses his hips and what that spur—and the piercings—feels like.
Yeah, I really, really can't wait for Bethiah to leave.
Jerrok pushes out of his chair with a glance over at me. "Think you're ready to go, cousin. Let me do a quick check on the engine systems since we removed your back-up." He moves to my chair, presses a kiss atop my head, and then heads out.
I melt at the little show of affection, because I know he's not the demonstrative sort. This morning, though, we've been unable to keep our hands off each other. Something tells me that the moment Bethiah's ship leaves the dock, we're going to be back in the bedroom. I can't wait.
Bethiah slinks into the seat Jerrok has vacated and begins to tap on the controls. I watch her idly, munching on dry noodles and daydreaming about what I'll do to Jerrok the moment we're alone. I need to get Sleipnir something to chew on, and—
"Remember our little conversation, Softie?"
"Hmm?" I blink, looking over at Bethiah.
"About me tearing you limb from limb if you hurt my cousin?" She flips a switch and reads a message that rolls on screen, then glances over at me. "Still holds true, by the way. I will rip you to shreds if you hurt him."
"I don't plan on hurting anyone." I'm a little confused as to why she thinks I'm out to shred Jerrok's soul or something. "I really like him and he likes me back. What's so weird about that?"
"Because it's not going to work out, Softie," Bethiah turns toward me, hissing. There's a wounded light in her eyes. "It's all fun and games in the bedroom, but the moment someone asks for commitment, you humans always back out." She shakes her head. "We both know that you being here is going to cause him nothing but problems."
Her words sting, mostly because they have the ring of truth in them. I really don't belong on this station, or anywhere else in the galaxy. That's the problem…I don't belong anywhere, and I certainly haven't been asked to stay. "Jerrok knows this thing between us is temporary. We're just having fun." The words sound hollow to my own ears, and my excitement about being alone with Jerrok takes a nosedive. Me being here has been nothing but problems for him so far. He's probably going to be thrilled when I leave.
The noodles I've been crunching on suddenly taste like ash in my mouth. I toss the bag aside, wanting to flee the ship.
"I'm just trying to set realistic expectations for both of you," Bethiah says cheerily, toggling another switch. "It's for the best."
"We're just…fooling around. I promise. It means nothing." Maybe if I say it often enough, I'll believe it. "I'm leaving with the va Sithai anyhow." Especially since I haven't been asked to stay, and Bethiah's made it quite clear that I don't belong out here.
"You'll have to tell them I said hello," Bethiah replies absently, adjusting her seat as if she's ready to take off right now.
"Will do." I jump up from my seat, the urge to flee overwhelming, and nearly run into Jerrok as I escape the bridge. T
he look on his face is downright sour, and I love it, even though I shouldn't. God, I'm a mess when it comes to this guy. I manage a bright smile. "I'm…going to get back to scrapping."
I race off the ship and back into the hangar before I can hear Bethiah natter on about anything else. Once I'm out in the bay, I feel like I can breathe again. I take in several lungfuls of recycled station air, appreciating the slight mineral tang of it. I head for the scrapping station, but Jerrok's goggles are on the table, and the sight of them just makes my heart ache because I love seeing him in them, hard at work. I veer away, heading for the terrarium.
The plants look vibrant this particular morning, the fake station light set to mimic a sunrise. Water droplets sparkle on the leaves, and the air is humid with a fresh watering. I guess I can't weed or plant, either, until the soil dries up a little more, because the mud just gets cakey and makes it hard to work. With a sigh, I find my favorite bench and sink onto it. My sore muscles protest, but this time, they don't feel like a sexy badge of pride.
This time, they just hurt.
There's a little cough to my side, and I glance over to see Sleipnir padding out from his favorite spot, his scaly skin gleaming like an opal. He's a little muddy himself, but his eyes are as beautiful and knowing as ever as he comes and puts his head on my knee, looking up at me soulfully.
It's like he knows how much I'm hurting.
"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking his muzzle. "Did you realize I'm sad?"
He rubs his face against my thigh, doing that little half-cough he makes when he wants my attention.
I scratch behind his ears, sighing. "It's not your fault. You're amazing, the best companion and pet a girl could ask for. It's me. I'm just…stupid." I fight back tears, because there's no sense crying over anything. I knew what I was getting into when I fell for Jerrok. I knew he was a loner and had no plans of changing.