Rescued by an Alien: Alien Mate Romance (Stolen by an Alien Book 2)

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Rescued by an Alien: Alien Mate Romance (Stolen by an Alien Book 2) Page 16

by Amanda Milo


  I try not to agree with her but…

  She scoffs. “Don’t give me that look!”

  I feel my brow scales raise up high as I inhale. “I’m trying not to but when you make statements like this…” I shake my horns.

  That bubbly laughing sound she can make - such a pleasant, pretty sound - it breaks from her lips now as she stares at me, incredulous. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘She is such an alien!’”

  I don’t confirm this.

  I don’t have to.

  She points a finger right at my snout. “Ha! You are! You think I’m an alien.”

  I make a show of wincing for her. “It must be difficult to come to this realization, especially if you've been under impressions to the contrary before now.” Then I try to hide my smile in a patronizing look. “For this long? Really?”

  Her eyes are amused even as she shakes her head at me. “I can’t believe I’m getting grief from an alien right now.”

  “I can’t believe I’m getting grief from an alien right now,” I agree.

  She bursts full into the bubbling sound and I am beyond pleased to hear it - I treasure this like the gift it is - and to see her happy-

  And to watch her breasts bounce.

  I sigh in contentment.

  “Zaaadeon? Earth to… heh.”

  “Hmm?” I snap my eyes up.

  She smiles at me a moment. “I said you can touch them.”

  I need to keep my focus on her face so as not to miss words like this! How can I, when there is so much to see?

  Gratefully, I crook a forefinger, and drag it along the soft, frilled fabric at the top of her breast coverings.

  I already know how the covering feels. I have rolled over a version of these every day.

  But it is different to feel them when they are encasing the soft, round, warm - and as I slip my knuckle under it and heft it a little - heavy breasts that they are meant to support and protect.

  I don’t realize that I’ve shared my thought aloud until she closes her small fingers over my wrist. “Protect?”

  I feel my tail thwap the mattress next to me. “I have examined these contraptions closely. The insides contain a thick layer of padding. This is to protect your nipples, yes? It is the sweetest smelling area.”

  She’d started to speak when I said the word ‘nipples’ but choked when I said the word ‘smelling’.

  “I would like to taste the real thing,” I croon to her as I scoot closer, my body edging over hers, making her catch herself with her hands planted behind her.

  That move just made her breasts bounce.

  I am tempted to shake her a little just to watch them do it more.

  An image of thrusting into her - not with too much force - just enough to watch them jostle every time my hips caress hers...

  I groan.

  “You… should,” she squeaks.

  I never lose her eyes when I drop a kiss to her kneecap. “Hmm. I want to touch and taste all of you.” I kiss her other kneecap. “Where should I start?”

  Her eyes disappear when she drops flat to the bed.

  Now I really am crowded over her. “Are you alright?”

  She flaps a hand at her face. “Yeah. That was just… super hot. Hey, no goosebumps now, bonus.”

  Her face is flushed with bright color, and interestingly, so is her chest.

  I drop a kiss there, to the dip right above where her breasts are harnessed.

  Her pulse is fluttering as if I’ve been chasing her for hours - I see it pounding at the base of her throat.

  I love this.

  Then I see the bite mark. I lave it away with my tongue.

  Her hands sift through the quills on top of my head. I go still, enjoying the sensation.

  This is the best.

  She scritches my scalp with her fingertips.

  My nose falls into her breasts, and I groan.

  This is the best.

  Her breasts wiggle when she laughs. Creator - this is the view. This is what I want to see when I die. Not a bloody opponent in some forgettable match far away; I want to be right here when I’m old, and my quills have gone silver tipped, and our hearts beat together for the last time.

  Then I see the bite.

  It was sunk into the underside of the tissue; I see the scab through the lacing though, and I carefully reach up a hand to tug the material down.

  Her breasts aren’t quivering with laughter now.

  No, but from her scent, I’m afraid they might start trembling in fear.

  Before she can grow any more nervous, I dart a lick over the wound.

  Another.

  Healed.

  I turn my head to properly examine the other.

  I hear the lamp crash to the floor when my tail knocks into it.

  They bit right into her nipple. Those savages!

  When her towel fell that day, I missed noticing this one.

  There were so many.

  When I place my tongue here though, her knees snap up around my ribs.

  Mmmm. More of that please...

  I move my lips and tongue along her torso healing the marks.

  And healing her mind.

  When every move I make is gentle, when every touch I place on her is one of reverence; she will come to trust me.

  There will come a day when she realizes she hasn’t thought of them at all that day. That week. A time when she will remember what was done to her, but it won’t cause her to hurt with this degree of viscerality any longer.

  She is so brave. She is doing so well.

  My fingertips dance over her skin.

  She bangs my nose with her arm when she curls up and shrieks.

  CHAPTER 32

  CALLIE

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I shout. His hands go back on me - this time time his touch is testing.

  I yell, “Ti-Tickles! Stop, stop, I can’t take it!”

  Smoke is curling around me and he is full of curiosity. “Your nerves overwhelm you here just like the bottoms of your feet… ? Why?”

  “I don’t know why - it just is! It tickles!”

  He gently brings his hand to my bare shoulder and smooths his palm down to the little string over my hip; again and again - he’s petting me.

  Like it will calm me down.

  He’s so cute.

  He's also right.

  “My strange little alien,” he says on a sigh.

  Still panting, I glare at him, earning me one of his grins. “You’re teasing me!”

  I reach up and try to tickle his ribs.

  My fingers hit hard, thick scales.

  No reaction.

  Well, that’s not fair.

  He does look down and his ears are even up, alert. I’ve noticed he doesn’t move his as much as Arokh does.

  Probably because - as he told me in his own words; ‘my ears are nearly decoration at this point’.

  But that’s about all the reaction I get.

  “You aren’t ticklish?” I ask. “Not anywhere?”

  “Nothing like you,” he says. Amused.

  I’m sooo glad I can amuse him.

  Very, very aware that I’m nearly naked, and that he’s not - I fold my arms over my chest.

  He frowns.

  He drops forward onto his fists so that he can lean over me and flick his gaze pointedly to my boobs - then back to my face.

  Like a little boy politely waiting for a bully to give him his toys back.

  I smirk at him, still reclining on my side, knees curled as close to my chest as they can go and still allow me to breath comfortably.

  Slowly, he lowers his head until he is exhaling on my hip. Right under the string of my thong, he eases the burn of a bite mark.

  I’m not smirking now.

  Soon, I’m rolling onto my back, popping off my bra, kicking my thong off - I don’t miss that he pauses to retrieve it and ties it around his arm, but at this point I refuse to let it phase me - and he is moving to my lower belly.


  When he hits my mons - I tense up.

  “Tickles?” he asks.

  “N-no,” I say. “Just… memories.”

  At once, his eyes look sorrowful, and angry.

  Then determined.

  But his lips are gentle when they skim across my stomach.

  When they move down lower.

  I’m bare here. When we were turned into pets here in this compound, one of the first tools I wielded was a shaver.

  I shaved everything.

  I’m sure there’s some psychological reason for going crazy and waging war on all body hair I consider nonessential - but it makes me feel better when I wash to be completely smooth.

  Except for the scabs.

  I hate that they bit me here too.

  I used to love being gone down on.

  Now, my thighs are tense, my back hurts - I realize my whole body is tensed hard.

  “Shhh,” he coos. “Relax, Callie. It’s just me. I would never-”

  I grab his hand. “I know.” I take a deep breath.

  Then I ease my legs open.

  I know Zadeon wouldn’t-

  But my brain won’t shut off, and visions of knees slamming between mine, banging, battering, fingers prying-

  Zadeon’s shoulders fill up the space.

  Not his hips, not his hands, not his huge muscled thighs.

  Instead… he groans like a starved man that just cashed in a genie-wish for a feast.

  His arms sweep around my back and hug my butt - lifting it right off the bed, angling my center towards his mouth.

  Then he swipes his tongue up my slit.

  Unnnff!

  That was me.

  He trumpets.

  I grab his horns and am climbing up his face. “Don’t make that noise! Don’t ever make that noise when you’re down there!”

  It’s like he can’t even hear me - my chin bumps my chest when he peels me off and bounces me back to the bed, yanking my ass back towards him.

  Was I afraid he was going to treat me like I’m fragile?

  I can cross that worry off the list.

  I grip a horn in each of my hands to keep them steered away from my face - and to hang the fuck on.

  Because Zadeon pulls no punches; he is eating me.

  It takes him a bit before he calms down enough to follow my cues - then he finds my clit.

  When I’m almost too overstimulated to come any more, I grab his nose and squeeze his nostrils shut. “Give me a minute!”

  I’ve never seen his eyes like this.

  They’re all black and a more dangerous, more animalistic Zadeon is in control right now. He snarls and snorts so hard my hand is pushed off - but thankfully, he moves his attention to my inner thighs.

  He takes care of all the puncture sites.

  And he pulls back, and checks his tongue again.

  “Is it bothering you?” I ask.

  He smiles at me, his eyes going a little calmer. “Only when I’m not touching you with it.”

  I return his smile with a shy one. “Guess you know what you’ve got to do then.”

  His growl is a rumble I feel more than I hear as he lifts me back to his mouth. “I do.”

  He does.

  Ohhh he does.

  Since we’re apparently going to be here awhile, I bring one of his huge palms up to my breast.

  But it doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would. My nipples feel like sparking wires, like raw nerves.

  He looks up - but doesn’t stop feasting, God bless him - and his brows scrunch in confusion when I hastily move his hand back down.

  I tug one of his horns. “Your turn.”

  He leans away from the hold I have on his horn and pins my hips with a hand to my lower belly. “Yes. My turn.”

  I laugh. “Let me rephrase. I want to have my turn. On you.”

  ◆◆◆

  I move my lips - bumping and catching them on rich, gleaming carmel-copper scales - up his very long nose. He has this sound chamber thing in there; he can and does make the strangest mix of noises in it but again…

  It’s my Z.

  I’m just going to roll with this and anything else ‘different’.

  I’m sitting on his abs, my knees hugging his ribs, his tail curled around my wrist as I take my time examining him like I never have before.

  There's a lot I've overlooked-

  There’s a lot I’ve never looked at.

  Much of which was always covered by the clothing he kept on for my comfort.

  Sigh. I kiss my fingers and then bring them to his ribs for a featherlite tap.

  His skin flickers like a horse’s does.

  “What are these?” I ask as I squeeze the strange line along his forearm. He has them on each side.

  With his other hand he reaches over to carefully pry up my fingers. “Watch.”

  A blade shoots out. It’s like a filet knife - but with a jagged edge.

  “Broken,” he explains.

  It folds itself down harmlessly so that I can continue my perusal.

  “Lay back all the way,” I order, ignoring the slight, tiny shake in my voice and I give his chest a gentle push he doesn’t seem to notice. At all.

  I shove.

  Nothing.

  "I can't,” he says, smiling. “Not like this.”

  “Not like what?” Then I see; his horns. “Duh! Right. Right! Okay, how do we… actually, you'll probably want to be propped up for this. How handy."

  His brows are furrowed.

  I try for coy - not afraid - when I say, “I want to try something. I used to enjoy this and I don’t want them…” I bring my hand to the coils of his tail around my other wrist, as they wrap like a heavy bracelet. Reassuring, somehow. It’s like holding hands + hugging all in one. “I don’t want them to take this from me too.”

  He’s so solemn. “If you want. Then I want it too.”

  “I just bet you do,” I wink.

  He looks… clueless.

  This could be really fun.

  I climb off of him and adjust so that my butt is off to his side, by his elbow. The insides of my thighs begin to ache when he brings a finger up to trace along the curve of my butt. With not-from-fear trembling fingers, I work at the fastening to his pants.

  And release a monster.

  It’s one thing to want to go down on him but it'll be another to actually fit his cock in my mouth.

  Really? What had I been expecting? Zadeon is huge all over. I should not be surprised but...

  Ever worn tight jeans when you go to the County Fair? You look hot, it is hot, and you get thirsty but you didn't bring a purse. So when you buy a water...

  Ever try to cram one of those tall water bottles in your pocket? Not one of those crinkly 6oz adorables either but a huge, full, tall 24ouncer?

  “This is going to take some work,” I warn him, looking at him over my shoulder. I’m not very coordinated with hands-and-mouth action, and with his… considerable length, there’s no way to avoid it.

  “What is?” His eyes are so comically wide I want to laugh. How did he not hear Gracie talking-

  Oh.

  He’s never heard of blowjobs.

  Suddenly, at least half the pressure to perform well lifts off of me.

  I don’t have to be better than the pro porn stars.

  I don’t have to be better than his ex.

  I don’t have to do anything - but I want to.

  I change position, deciding I really want to see his face. Goodbye stroking hand. I move so that I’m between his legs.

  When I line myself up, my breasts are touching his sac, my nipples dragging along it and the base of his dick, and when he gasps I decide this could work very, very well.

  I take a deep breath and clear my mind. I’m not thinking of anything before. It helps that this whole experience really is as different as night and day. This is me, this is Zadeon, and I can’t wait to see his reaction.

  I lick the head of his cock. />
  His thighs tense - and it’s a little intimidating to be down here as his colossal body locks up in a pleasure-seizure around me.

  But not so intimidating that it stops me from wrapping my hands around him and popping him into my mouth.

  He rewards me by reaching over me and petting my ass in an adoring fashion. Mmm.

  He shudders at the vibration.

  I chuckle around a dick.

  I’ve never done that before.

  He likes this too. Like, a lot. He firms even harder.

  That old saying ‘so hard he could pound nails with his cock’.

  I feel like I’ve got a hot, long, heavy hammer between my lips.

  I tremble.

  Not from fear.

  I feel a little bit like I’m slobbering on him excessively - but it takes some serious lube to get the slide I need to deepthroat him.

  Something I learned to do out of necessity, not joy, not-

  Don’tthinkofthem!

  I reach down and squeeze his balls.

  His tail takes out the lamp.

  Make that another lamp. We've known for awhile to have backups though so I'm not in the dark.

  He also makes this wheezing noise, stifling himself by biting into his bottom lip hard.

  I think he knows that if he startles me with one of his loud trumpet-screech things, he’s going to lose a couple inches.

  But gosh, I’m having fun.

  I grin and bob faster.

  But when I feel his hand at the back of my head - I freeze.

  And gag.

  And choke, and cough, and, eyes watering - back off of him.

  “I’m sorry!” He sounds so contrite that I want to cry. “I wanted to touch your mane…”

  It’s Zadeon you idiot! Stay in the moment!

  He’s quiet while I get my breath back, and I wipe my eyes - and then I take his hand and put it on my head, sliding it down, then up again so that his fingers slide through the strands.

  It’s nice.

  It feels good.

  It’s nothing like their touch.

  No cruel, hard wrenching, no skull-fucking; Zadeon cares about my comfort. Cares about me. I’m safe here.

  I look into his eyes and his expression makes me smile. I don’t trust myself to speak - and I feel saliva leaking off my chin so I feel kind of self conscious. I drop back between his legs and find that he’s softened a little and I think that makes my heart even happier with him; he was so put off by my fear.

 

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