by Ruby Dixon
I'm probably not going to be good at this whole “pacing things out” thing. So I touch the base of one horn again, and as I do, I rub my breasts against him.
S'bren grabs my wrist again, and a split second later, I'm on my back in the furs as he looms over me. His brow is totally flushed, and the look in his eyes is all glazed lust and heat. "Do I get to touch you now?"
I wiggle with anticipation on the blankets. I like this. More than that, I like the intensity on his face. "Of course." And I obediently close my eyes and lift my chin, waiting for him to tease me back.
To my surprise, there's no gentle, whispering touch on my brow, or my cheeks. I feel nothing for a long moment, and then a big hand grabs the waist of my leggings and rips the knot holding them there. I squeak in surprise, my eyes flying open again as he tugs at my leggings, easing them down my hips and revealing the fact that I'm not wearing anything underneath, since leather panties are a big nope in my book. "What are you doing?"
"I am going to touch my female," he declares, his voice husky and full of confidence.
"I thought you meant my face."
"I never said that." S'bren gazes down at my thighs with interest, like he's never seen them before. It's ridiculous. Of course he's seen my thighs. He's seen the kitty and everything that comes with it since we spent a week practically being nudists at the fruit cave. But it feels different now, lying under him as he eases the leathers off the rest of my legs and onto the floor of the cave. Everything feels different. My skin prickles with so much awareness that I feel like a live wire. "I like the way you look," he tells me.
"That's good, because I can't do much about it," I tease back. It's true. I mean, there's always some cosmetic clean up and trimming, but my hips have always been thick and wide, and even after being on an ice planet and working hard and walking all day long, I haven't turned into a lean, svelte model. I'm just as solid, but a little more firm in areas that jiggle. It is what it is, and I made peace with my generous body a long time ago. Then again, I also wasn't expecting a big, virginal alien to stare down my private parts so very intently.
"Can I touch you?" he asks, lifting his head to look at me with those scorching eyes.
I suck in a breath. He's using my own words against me. Did I think I was going to have to go slow because he was a virgin? Break him in easy? Clearly he knows how to flirt…or I'm just the luckiest woman alive. Maybe both. I'm also the most aroused woman alive, because hearing him use my words back to me is making me all kinds of wet and achy deep inside. "Yes." It's more of a breath than a word.
It does the trick, though. I expect to feel his hand on me, but I'm not ready for the big head that leans in and oh-so-gently kisses my navel. I squirm, both ticklish and surprised, because his long hair falls against my skin and his mouth is hot and wet and unexpected. I giggle as his tongue dips into the hollow of my belly button, and then my giggles turn to a moan when one enormous hand slides between my knees and then glides up my thigh.
Oh dear lord, this man is not playing around. I grab at one shoulder, helpless, as he presses more kisses to my belly, nuzzling at the soft swell of it. He brushes his mouth over my skin, pushing my tunic up and exploring me with his lips. He doesn't go far—doesn't go south to the gates of paradise, or north to my breasts—but just remains focused on that section of my abdomen, tasting and teasing my skin as if he's got all the time in the world and the gentle rolls of my not-flat belly are his favorite place to be in the world.
And it is turning me on like no tomorrow.
I drag my fingers through his mane as he kisses and nuzzles my stomach, unable to resist touching him. He's just so big and brawny. I can't get over the sheer size of him. Sure, I stand next to him all the time, but it's different when he's leaning over me and his head is just massive, and the arm propping him up so he can lean over me is equally massive. The hand between my thighs isn't traveling—much to my disappointment—but remains on my inner thigh, holding me in place. As if I'd push him away? I haven't felt so sexy and adored in…ever. No one ever wants to get to know my body. They just want a quick fuck. This stranger, this virgin, this man who knows nothing about humans, has spent so much time and affection on my belly of all places that it makes me feel misty-eyed. I feel…beautiful.
"Thank you," I tell him.
"For?" He lifts his head, looking up at me.
"For taking your time to touch me. I didn't realize until now how much I needed it." And I give him a tremulous smile, hoping he doesn't notice how damp my eyes are. I don't want him to get weirded out by my reaction. Maybe I should distract him, turn the tables and—
No, I remind myself. Good Time Penny needs to take a seat. I need to learn patience and try not to push the situation into something it doesn't have to be. S'bren hasn't indicated that he's in a hurry. It's just my own insecurity about relationships rearing its ugly head.
So I take a deep breath, give him another smile, and try to lie back and relax while he touches me.
S'bren grunts, and I don't know if that's some sort of response, but I curl my fingers in his thick, heavy hair, and rub his scalp as he leans down and kisses my belly again. "I do not know why I would not spend time on you, P'nee," he murmurs. "I have thought of nothing but putting my mouth on you for days and days now. Why would I not take the time to enjoy this? It is everything I have ever wanted."
"I thought that was down south," I joke.
“South?”
“Between the thighs—oh, never mind.”
“You wish for me to go between your thighs?” He lifts his head and gives me a heated stare. “As if you think I can resist?”
S’bren’s hand creeps a little higher.
My breath quickens. I squirm, both incredibly aroused and impatient. “I thought we were going to take things slow.”
“We will. But I am wooing you.”
“Wooing…me?” His words bring a smile to my face and I stroke his thick, dark hair. “You know that I’m here with you right now because I want to be with you, right? I’m pretty sure the time for wooing has passed.”
“You are wrong, my mate,” S’bren murmurs, sliding that big hand ever so slightly higher up my thigh. It’s heading into dangerous territory and I’m aching with the need for him to touch me. To chuck aside all plans of slowly exploring one another and just fuck like bunnies. That hand is making me crazy. “I do not think you have been wooed before. Not like how you should have been.”
His words make me pause. Is he right? I’ve never dated a romantic. I always acted like I was totally fine with skipping the sentimental stuff because I figured the guys would. I never played hard to get. Heck, I played easy to get. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I never have been properly wooed. I don’t think it’s entirely the fault of all my exes in the past, either. I think I probably sold myself short.
Well, that and I dated some assholes. It’s not all on me.
“What did you have in mind for the wooing?” I ask him, breathless. I’m fascinated that I’m the one with all the experience in bed and yet he’s setting out to woo me. There’s something utterly alpha male about that—and yet it’s achingly sweet and touching at the same time. He wants to woo me.
Me.
I feel so stupidly lucky.
19
PENNY
“I am going to woo you," he continues. "And when I think you have been sufficiently wooed properly, I will take you back to the tribe, and we will wed-hing before them and you will be my mate. And then we will join together in the furs."
Oh. "You've been putting a lot of thought into this?"
"I think about you all the time," he admits. "Any male would." Before I can protest that most don't, he lowers his head and presses another hot kiss on my belly. "But you belong to me, and I am the only male that will touch you."
Before I can reply, his hand moves up my thigh and his fingers brush over the folds of my pussy.
I make a strangled sound of need and longing. I've wanted to be touched
so, so badly that it's shocking in just how intense it feels. I know I'm wet. Heck, I'm soaking. I can feel the hot, achy pulse of my heartbeat pounding between my thighs, and I want to come out of my skin I'm so wound up. "What does this wooing involve?" I manage, doing my best to sound coherent.
"I will prove myself to you." His fingers brush over my folds once more. "Over and over again. You will tell me if I am pleasuring you correctly, and if I am not, I will redouble my efforts. I want to learn how to please my mate." He looks up at me again, his eyes blazing. "I want to make you come."
Oh god, I don't think that's going to be a problem. I already want to come and all he's done is rub his knuckles over my girl parts. But he looks like he's expecting an answer. "Okay," I breathe.
"I want to taste you. Is that done?" He looks up at me, then leans in and presses his open mouth against my navel, his tongue flicking inside as if he's demonstrating just what he wants to do to me.
"Oh, yeah. It's done." Is it too soon for me to fling my legs wide open and invite him to go exploring? Probably. I'm trembling with eagerness. I've had oral twice with two different men. One boyfriend made it clear that he wasn't a fan. The other gave up when I didn't come like a rocket the moment his tongue touched me. So I'm excited, but I'm also oddly nervous. What if S'bren can't make me come, either? I don't want to be disappointing to him. I want him to feel good. I want him to feel like a champ so he's encouraged. This is his first time, after all.
The solution comes to me immediately: fake it.
I'm no stranger to faking it. It's just another weapon in the arsenal to make the guy you're with feel good. I know how to moan and squeeze things just right to make him think I'm getting all excited, like he's doing a fucking bang-up job even when he's not.
So if I don't come fast enough, I'll just fake an orgasm, tell him he's amazing, and maybe gently school him in the future if he needs it. Hopefully he won’t.
I know I’m overthinking it already, but I can’t help it.
S'bren presses a kiss to my belly, and then kisses lower. He gently pushes my thighs apart, and I open them wider, inviting him in. I want to be cool and calm, but inwardly I'm squealing like a teenager about to have sex for the first time. I hope everything smells great and tastes great. I hope I'm not too unmanicured. I hope—
He takes a deep breath and inhales. "Your scent, P'nee." His hot mouth presses against the inside of my thigh and he rubs his face against my skin, as if he wants to cover himself in me.
"Good? Bad?"
"Perfect," he says, and moves his mouth ever closer to my pussy. I'm hot and wet, aching deep inside in all the right ways, and I want him desperately. When he finally lowers his head and kisses my mound, I make a strangled sound of relief. He's on me, gently exploring my folds with fingers and tongue, and it feels good.
So good.
But just kisses and caresses aren't going to be enough to make me come, I know. I usually need hard friction and multiple stimuli so I can come. Most guys don't mind going rough and hard fast, but it seems inappropriate right now. So I squirm as he tongues me and try to enjoy it, even though my mind is going a million miles a minute and I can feel my excitement drying up faster than the Sahara.
Shit.
He kisses my folds, his tongue lightly stroking over them, and I take a deep breath. His mouth feels good, and I want to be squealing with orgasms, but my brain is working against me. He's already been down there for what, at least a minute? And I haven't even moaned once. He hasn't found my clit, either. Instead, he's just taking his sweet time tasting me, learning me with his lips and tracing every fold with the tip of his tongue. It's ticklish and fun but…I'm also worried he's going to think he's not turning me on. It's not him, either. It's me.
So I moan softly. I squeeze my inner muscles and make a breathy little noise in the back of my throat.
S'bren immediately lifts his head and gives me an odd look.
"Something wrong?" I try to sound appropriately breathless and beside myself with passion, when all I really want to do is clamp my thighs together and invite him to just climb on top of me and pound away. At least then I know I'll come.
But he lowers his head again, tasting me and flicking his tongue against the entrance to my core. I squeeze again and moan.
His head goes up again. He frowns. "What are you doing?"
"Um…coming?"
S'bren's face is flushed, his mouth dark and damp and so kissable, even when he frowns at me. "That is not how you sound when you are enjoying yourself."
"Sure it is."
"No, it is not. I know what you sound like when you have pleasure. You think I do not notice these things about you, P'nee?" He gives me a suspicious look. "Why are your sounds changing?"
This could quite possibly be the most embarrassing conversation I've ever had while naked. Or clothed, for that matter. He has his head parked between my thighs, frowning up at me. "I swear I'm not pretending," I lie. "I just…I don't want you to not have a good time."
He growls, sounding strangely animal as he glares up at me from between my thighs. God, why is that so stinking hot? "This is not about my pleasure, my P'nee. This is about wooing you."
"Well I want you to enjoy yourself—"
The look he gives me is downright incredulous. "You think I am not enjoying myself?"
"I don't know!" I try to pull my thighs shut but he pushes them apart, one big heavy arm holding my leg still as he glares up at me. "I just…I'm overthinking it, okay? I'm thinking too hard and it makes it harder for me to come. I don't have a hair trigger. These things take a while and I don't want you to get disappointed and give up on me."
"Give up?" He stares at me, incredulous. "P'nee, I have waited a lifetime to taste you. You are perfect. I love the taste of your body. I love the scent of your skin and the feel of your soft thighs against my head. If I am doing it wrong and not pleasing you, I want to know. I do not want you to pretend."
I feel like I'm letting him down. My chest feels hollow and I feel ashamed—not my sexiest moment. "You're doing fine. I just…I don't come fast. That's all."
S'bren gives me a wicked grin, sending my heart fluttering. He presses another kiss to the inside of my thigh. "Then that is a very good thing, my mate, because I like having my mouth on you. It means I get to take my time and savor this."
Savor? Not a word I normally hear in bed. Ever.
"Relax," he tells me when I hesitate. "There is no hurry. It is going to snow all night." He gestures at the front of the cave and then nips at the inside of my thigh again, his gaze intent on me. "All night."
"You're not going to spend all night between my legs—"
"Why not?"
I want to squirm with frustration. "Because…you'll get bored."
He snorts, the sound loud and dismissive. "To think I was worried I would not compare to human male pleasure mates. I see I was very wrong about this."
"S'bren," I begin, sitting up on my elbows. "Maybe—"
"Relax," he commands me as if he's the expert on making love. He lowers his head between my thighs again, and when I don't immediately lie back down again, he puts one hand on my stomach and gently pushes me back down onto the furs.
"Okay, okay."
"There is no time limit on this," he tells me. "We have until morning, and if the snows do not let up, we will stay here again the next day. There is no need to rush anything, my pretty mate." And he kisses the inside of my thigh once more, then rubs his chin against my skin. For some reason, that makes me shiver. The thick hair on his head is almost ropey, but the ones on his chin are downy soft and feel like feathers. It's a strange contrast, just like the horns that hover above my body, the points inches away from digging into something soft. But I trust S'bren. He's always careful and I know he's aware of their proximity. I toy with the point of one as he gently parts my folds and gives me another long lick. I tell myself not to react, to just close my eyes and relax.
It takes some time, but I do. I hol
d on to the points of his horns, my eyes shut, and S'bren licking my pussy. He makes a low sound in his throat, and I realize he IS enjoying himself, and that helps me relax. Men here are different, I remind myself. There's no cultural jokes about fat chicks or frigid women or anything along those lines. The women here are revered and each alien man acts like he's acquired a special prize when resonance happens. It's wonderfully sweet and romantic, and—
S'bren's questing tongue dips into the entrance to my core, eliciting a little shudder. When he does it again, a tiny noise escapes me, and he lifts his head. His face is flushed, but he's wearing a look of triumph. "That is the sound you make when you are pleased." He strokes a finger down my folds, and I want to squirm all over again. Then he dips it into me, where his tongue was, and I let out a little whimper. His finger's so big that it feels as if it's stretching me. "And now you have honey for me once more."
Honey. I can't decide if that's the dorkiest thing I've ever heard or the sweetest.
"I am going to taste all this honey," he tells me, voice husky with anticipation. "I am going to lick it all up because it tastes better than anything at the fruit cave. And I want more of it. You think I am a good hunter, but I am a greedy one, P'nee. I want all of this. I want all of your honey, and I want all of my nights between your thighs."
"Okay," I tell him, breathless.
"And I want you to tell me if I touch you wrong or if there is a spot you like better than another."
I swallow hard. I'm not used to demanding anything in bed. I'm the one that's always a good sport about everything. But I'll try for him. "Okay."
He licks his fingers, tasting me, and I'm fascinated by that dark blue tongue stroking out over his wet fingers. "I do not care what other males have thought in the past. It is only S'bren here with you now. It is only S'bren you should be thinking of pleasing, and your pleasure pleases me. I do not care how long it takes for you to come, only that I give you pleasure. Do you understand this?"