Alien Warrior's Bounty
Page 14
She turns me on so deeply, it frightens me, not for my sake, but for hers.
As we crush our lips together in a sweet, painful kiss, she rocks her hips in my lap, grinding her hot center against my cock, which is now fully hard beneath my loincloth.
I grip her round butt, helping her grind even harder until she’s moaning into my mouth, her breath desperate and shuddery as if she’s on the verge of coming from just this.
My cock aches with desire to be inside of her, to feel her soft slippery wall clenching around my hard shaft.
As I told Clare earlier, the females of my species traditionally forge the armor and weapons for their mates. Their handiwork is considered some of the best in the universe. However, they are also renowned for their prowess in the bed chamber. As a result, we sometimes joke that Mezentine women are so skilled in the art of smithing that they can even turn a male’s flesh into the hardest steel.
Right now, this little Earthling is giving the Mezentine weaponsmiths a run for their money. My “spear” as she referred to it a moment before, is harder than it’s ever been in my life.
But that’s not all. Her kisses, her scent, and the soft touch of her hot flesh are arousing me in other ways.
Deep within my cock, my spermatopositor is stirring.
That is what is making me nervous.
Mezentine physiology is very particular. Every warrior has one ordained mate, though he won’t learn who she is until they are joined. He may have sex with numerous females, but only his mate’s specific pheromones will be able to arouse his spermatopositor, to draw forth his virility.
When that happens, the act is no longer mere sex—it is mating.
Before the dawn of science, the ancients considered it Fate.
What I don’t understand is how this small, soft, human female could be stirring those feelings deep inside me now. She is not even of my species. How could she be the one? How could she be my fated mate?
But the stirrings are undeniable and irresistible.
“Rogar.” Her breath is soft and sweet against my lips.
For a moment, I pause, holding back my hunger for her so I can enjoy the sight of her pretty face with my own eyes, unencumbered by my helmet.
Goddess, she is perfect.
The green glow of the fire has turned her pale blue eyes a lovely shade of aquamarine. Her face is flushed with an incredible rosy hue that almost hides the spray of cute freckles across her round cheeks and delicate nose. She smiles, her lips ripe and red from our hard kissing. A few strands of blond hair are falling down her face.
“You are so beautiful.” She cannot speak my language, but I hope she can understand the sentiment.
Behind her back, my fingers find the fasteners of her top. It comes undone, and slides down to reveal her plump, delicious breasts which are heaving with her excited breath.
I lean her body back and dip my face to taste her there.
Her breasts are soft as clouds. Her skin is hot against my lips. Tang and salt-sweat on my tongue. I kiss her breasts all over, enjoying the evanescent ovals of pink that the suction of my mouth leaves behind, but which soon fade back to her natural color.
Clare twines her little fingers through my mane.
My lips brush her nipples, which are hot and springy with arousal. I suck them into my mouth, first one and then the other, going back and forth until both are as hard as red jade.
She moans as I suckle her. Light airy sounds that quicken my pulse and cause my dick to buck inside my loincloth like an impatient steed.
I lean her back, kissing lower down her tummy until she is lying flat on her back on the mat of leaves she prepared.
My forked tongue draws wet circles around the lovely, deep dimple in the middle of her belly. My species doesn’t have this—it is a mammalian trait—but I find it incredibly enticing. It seems to be a sensitive place for humans. When I lick her there, Clare squirms and giggles. She says something I don’t understand, but it sounds like “Tee-kul.”
I can’t resist teasing her belly more and more with my tongue, raising that incredible, tinkling laugh from her throat until she says that other word that I like.
“Please,”
I stop, and she writhes slowly, raising her hips to let me know where she wants me.
My face delves lower, toward the place where her legs come together. Even though she is covered with her panties, the sweet scent of her cunt is strong in my nostrils. It sends a pulse of lust rippling through me, outward to the tips of my extremities.
It affects one rock hard extremity in particular.
Clare lifts her legs and brings them together long enough for me to pull her panties off. Then her thighs fall open again, revealing her sweltering center, adorned with its lovely little tuft of fur—another delightful trait that is peculiar to her species.
Perhaps that is what draws me to her so profoundly. The fact that her body is different from anything I’ve ever known—so soft, so round, so fragile and yet so flexible.
She breathes my favorite human word again and again as I kiss my way down her smooth inner thighs. As I near her joining, hard little tendons twitch and quiver beneath my lips. Her cunt is so hot with need, I can feel the warmth radiating from it before my lips even touch her there.
When I do finally make contact, Clare bridges her back and gasps on an inhale—a delicious, gulping sound that I want to hear again and again.
She writhes like she is possessed, as I feast on her. First, I taste her plump outer lips, then my tongue delves inward enjoying the wet petals of her inner blossom of flesh. I rim her tight hole, lapping her wet arousal straight from the source.
Then I move to my favorite bit—her little pink bud of flesh.
It is another novel piece of anatomy for me. Mezentine females don’t have this lower nipple, if I can call it that. I almost pity them, as it seems to be incredibly sensitive for human females.
I focus all of my attention on that hard little pearl, sucking and flicking and fluttering my tongue until the jungle is echoing with Clare’s moans and cries. If anyone happened to be nearby, they might think I was torturing her from the way she’s screaming.
But based on the way she’s humping my face, I think it’s safe to assume that she’s enjoying herself.
Clare’s body shudders and convulses as she comes. Hot, sweet fluid spurts from inside. I continue licking her at a steady pace until her tiny hands are tugging at my mane, trying to pull me away. I raise myself off of her and stare down at her shivering, sweat-sheened body. Her breasts are moving up and down with her ragged breaths.
For a moment, I’m worried that I actually did hurt her. However, when she smiles sweetly up at me, I know that’s not the case.
She flicks her eyes downward, indicating what she wants.
Her small hand reaches between her moist thighs to stroke the hard bulge straining to erupt from my loincloth.
We shouldn’t do this. It is dangerous. Careless.
But the way she nibbles her plush lower lip makes me throw all caution to the wind.
I stand, and Clare eagerly raises herself to her knees before me, placing her warm palms against the muscles of my thighs.
I unfasten my loincloth and draw it aside.
Clare gasps, her eyes widening to bright circles, and wavering shadows cast by the campfire streak across her lovely face.
CHAPTER 20: CLARE
It’s not often that I find myself at a loss for words, but now is one of those times.
I’m not surprised by the size of Rogar’s cock. I’ve already felt it through his loincloth, so I knew it was going to be big.
But I certainly didn’t expect it to be so…different.
I’ve never actually seen a guy’s erection in real life, but I’m no stranger to dirty movies, so I know well enough what a human dick looks like when it’s hard.
Rogar’s member is basically the same shape, but it’s got way more going on.
Way more.
/> I pause for a minute, just taking in his dominant display.
The first thing I notice is the thick, ribbed head, with multiple curves converging to the tip and blossoming throughout the studded crown. Behind that extends a girthy, muscular shaft covered in enticing plates, bumps, and curves that are strewn with scales.
And perhaps the strangest part of all—below his base dangles his smooth sac that appears to contain not two but four heavy balls.
“Well, that certainly explains a lot,” I muse out loud.
I glance up at Rogar. The hyper-masculine warrior is towering over me proudly, patiently letting me take my time to get to know his not-so-little friend.
I reach out tentatively and touch the thick, muscular shaft. As messed up as it sounds, the smooth scales remind me of petting a python.
“Oh wow,” I murmur as I wrap my fingers around him, stroking his length and feeling that supple skin shift over the hard inner core of his erection. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before—both hard and soft at the same time, like a polished stone layered in snakeskin.
Rogar grumbles with contentment above me as I pet him.
I stroke my fist up to the studded ring of his cockhead, and roll the pad of my thumb against the sexy little V on his underside. A few drops of clear fluid leak from his slit and dribble over my thumb. This must be the precursor of his semen.
Without even thinking, I lean in and kiss his tip, licking away the fluid, which is oddly saline and sweet at the same time, like salted honey.
Rogar groans above me.
“Do you like that?” I tease him, brushing his head back and forth against my lower lip.
He may not understand my words, but I get my answer just the same when his hand curls behind my head, guiding me forward.
I part my lips and take him inside.
Thankfully, Rogar lets me take my time with him, and that’s good. For one thing, I’ve never done this before, and for another, I’m pretty sure his isn’t exactly a “beginner cock.” At first I’m nervous as hell, worried that I won’t do it right, but Rogar’s groans of pleasure set me at ease.
I decide to relax and just enjoy all of the new and funny sensations as I explore every ridge and detail of his anatomy.
As my lips seal tightly around him, I suck the swollen, slightly pointed head and swirl my tongue around it inside my mouth, feeling all of those deep ridges converging on his tip. I moan softly as I imagine how those textures would feel deep inside another part of me.
“Tuntuua hyvaalta,” Rogar rasps as he clenches a tight fistful of my hair.
My eyes flick upward, and our gazes lock across the rippling, muscular landscape of his torso. Serpentine eyes, glinting in green firelight, gaze back at me. His expression is slack and drunken with a raw lust that heats my skin even more than the campfire and causes something to clench deep in my core.
“Tuntuua hyvaalta…”
His eyes roll back in their sockets as my tongue continues rolling around his meaty head.
Even though I’m on my knees right now, I’m the one in control of his pleasure. I’m the one making his cock and his muscles twitch with every little glide of my lips and flicker of my tongue.
I draw back, and my lips come off of him with a satisfying pop.
“You taste good,” I whisper, not caring if he understands.
Both of my fists twist and pump his dick, spreading my saliva over his shaft before diving back in to suck him deeper.
His cock is heavy and smooth in my mouth. It is cool at first, but soon begins to warm against the pad of my tongue.
I find a rhythm, bobbing my head in time with my hands on his base.
“Perrrrrrkele,” Rogar growls. The way that he rolls the R sound tells me he’s enjoying himself.
I keep going, trying to take a bit more of him with each stroke of my lips. I know I should probably take it easy. Not only is this a first for me. It’s got to be the first time a human girl has done this with an alien before.
I’m taking one giant leap for womankind right now.
I’m hungry for him, and I want to hear what other sexy sounds he can make.
His head nudges at the back of my throat, and I struggle not to gag on him. Perhaps it’s just the way things feel bigger inside one’s mouth, but I could swear his cockhead is swelling—flaring with arousal.
Even that’s not as unexpected as what I feel next, though.
A tickle.
Something narrow and flexible flicking against my pallet.
My squeal of surprise is muffled by the thick meat filling my mouth. I draw myself off of him, gasping wildly as long ropes of saliva arch from his cock to my lips, the viscous fluid glowing green in the firelight like liquid emeralds.
“Rogar,” I choke between gulps of air. “What was that?”
His cockhead was definitely flared—I can see that now, as those textured ridges slowly fold back into place like a closing umbrella.
But no sign of a tickler. That’s odd.
“Vituuz,” Rogar intones insistently. “Paritutuua.”
As he lowers himself to his knees, the tip of his penis brushes down my body, drawing a thin, sticky line between my breasts down to my abdomen.
He gathers me in his arms, kissing my face and lips. He guides me down onto our mat of leaves, lying me on my back, and my legs fall open for him without resistance.
In the back of my mind, I know we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s totally insane. We’re not using any protection. I don’t know if it’s even biologically possible for Rogar to get me pregnant, but we’re taking a pretty big risk here.
My last shred of resistance is worn away, however, by the scaly, ribbed underside of Rogar’s cock gliding along the groove of my parting.
“Fuck me,” I plead. “Put it inside me.”
I shiver weakly beneath him as he continues to hump me, sawing his long shaft back and forth against my vulva like a bow over violin strings. He doesn’t stop until his underside is dripping with my slippery arousal. My pussy squeezes, like it’s desperate to grab onto that hard dick.
“Please,” I beg, lifting my hips to grind against him. “I need you inside me right now.”
His sexy smirk tells me that he knows exactly what I need, but he insists on teasing me more. He grips his shaft in one hand and rubs his head against the erect bud of my clit until I can hardly stand it.
“Please,” I whimper desperately.
His cockhead slips lower, separating my wet petals. His tip kisses my entrance with precum. He nudges against me, the slope of his head gradually stretching my needy hole.
“Rogar…”
He pushes a little more, and I gasp as his head pops inside me.
Just like that, Rogar boldly goes where no man has gone before.
And maybe no man ever will. As far as I’m concerned, this alien cock is the only one I’ll ever need. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be spoiled after this.
Whether Rogar feels the same, I have no idea, but I decide not to worry about that right now and just enjoy the ride.
At first he goes slowly, only moving his head in and out of my hole, giving me a chance to acclimate to his girth. Even just that feels incredible—the textured head of his cock stimulating my entrance.
But I need more.
I reach up and tangle my fingers into his strange not-hair.
“Deeper,” I whisper greedily, “Fuck me deeper.”
Maybe he gets my meaning, or maybe it’s just a coincidence, but on the next stroke, Rogar plunges all the way into me, and I experience a sensation of fullness that I’ve never had before.
A dash of pain too.
“Ouch,” I hiss as his tip bottoms out against my cervix.
Rogar sees me wince, and his face takes on a troubled expression. He holds himself still inside me, his cock pulsing against my walls with his heartbeat. His massive hand strokes my cheek tenderly.
“Kunnossaa?“
I touch his angled jaw
lightly with my fingertips and smile up at him.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, and with a laugh I add, “But maybe not quite so deep.”
Even though we can’t speak each other’s languages, I’m certain we can understand each other now on some deeper level. It’s like we’re communicating directly through our skin, through our rushing pulses which are syncing up like magic.
Rogar draws back and thrusts into me again, this time taking care to stop short of my back wall. My pelvic muscles ache and stretch to accommodate his girth. He pauses again, as if checking whether I can handle it.
I nod breathlessly. “Do it again.”
Rogar obliges.
Oh God, does he ever.
He fucks me with long gliding strokes. Each time he plunges into me, I can feel every detail of his cock as my channel conforms to his muscular, ribbed shaft. His smooth scales abrade my soft inner tissues deliciously.
“Yes,” I moan as he slowly turns up the tempo. “Rogar, you feel so good inside me.”
I slide one hand between my legs and splay my fingers so I can feel him moving in and out of my pussy. There are still a couple of inches at his base that won’t fit inside, so I grip him there and jerk his shaft as he fucks me.
Rogar grunts. His muscles tense, and his dick bucks within.
“Careful,” I whine. “You can’t come inside me. Don’t…”
My voice trails off as I feel new a sensation added to the mix. At first I think it’s too late, that he has already started to spurt, but that’s not what it is. It’s that tickling sensation that I felt before, but much stronger now.
It’s definitely something solid, like a narrow flexible tongue extending from his tip, and it’s licking me right on that special tender place on my front wall.
“Oh my God,” I moan. “What are you…”
My words trail off into a mushy jumble of nonsense as I start to lose control of my body. I should be freaked out by this, but it feels too fucking good to stop.
The climax takes me by surprise as it rolls through me like a tidal wave. I writhe and thrash on our primitive bed of leaves as my muscles rhythmically tense and relax with pure ecstasy. Strong hands pin me down as the intense orgasm wracks my body.