by Meg Ripley
“Can you shift at will?” he asked.
The question was barely out of his mouth before the bear disappeared and the girl was in his arms once again. “I’ve been practicing for the past week. Every day and every night. What do you think?”
“You’re amazing—that’s what I think. You’re amazing and I have to kiss you.”
“Oh, please do.”
Dean didn’t need to be asked a second time. While he was in the hospital, he didn’t let himself linger over the memory of her soft, inviting lips, but he couldn’t do anything about his dreams. The few kisses they had exchanged fueled a thousand dreams—but the fantasy was nothing like the reality. The taste of her, the feel of her, the heat and pressure and solid reality of her made him ache and rejoice at the same time. The way she held the back of his neck, her nails pressing into his skin with the force of her hunger, only made him want her more. Within seconds, his hunger was whipped into a passionate frenzy.
His hands roamed freely over her naked body, learning every inch of her sweet curves. Her skin was flushed, her body warmed with passion and by the sun. She smelled so good. Dean’s nose was always sensitive, but her scent was overwhelming as it imprinted on him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he broke away from her mouth and continued his exploration with his lips, kissing her jaw, her throat, her neck, her ear. She dropped her head back, fingers clutching at his shoulders as he continued traveling down her body. When he reached the twin globes of her ample breasts, he dropped to his knees and buried his face between the mounds, pausing for a moment to truly enjoy the beautiful bounty at his fingertips.
“Please don’t stop,” Mari whispered, running her fingers through his hair.
There was no chance of stopping. He was all out of willpower and all out of excuses. There was nothing in the world he wanted the way he wanted her, and it seemed like that had been true for his entire life. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of the silky texture of her skin, or the way she moaned his name. He cupped one breast while he licked and kissed and suckled and nibbled the other, his dick getting harder with each second that passed.
“Please, Dean...I need…” She wasn’t able to finish the sentence, but her hips thrust forward and that was all the direction he needed. He pulled away from her breasts to move over the swell of her belly and bury his face in the fragrant heat between her thighs. He lapped at her flesh, gathering up the sweet nectar of her arousal, pushing his tongue between her thick lips to find her clit. It trembled beneath his tongue, and even the lightest pressure had her gasping and jerking her hips. Her fingers twisted in his hair, and he welcomed the tingling in his scalp—it served as a minor distraction for the intense throbbing between his legs.
In the back of his mind, he recognized that this was probably Mari’s first time. He wanted her first time to be on a big, comfortable bed, unhurried and perfect, not out in the open where anybody could see them, fueled by raw passion and desperate need. He wanted her to have the best of everything and he wanted to be the one to give it to her. He lifted his head to try to tell her as much, but she sank to her knees and pressed herself against him, kissing him with the same fervent passion he had for her.
“Please...I’m going crazy here,” Mari said against his mouth. “I need you.”
She reached between their bodies, fumbling with his fly, and pulled his cock free. Dean tried to say something, but only a low, whimpering moan escaped him as her hand wrapped around his shaft. She gave him a slow, almost languid stroke, and his balls pulled tight almost immediately.
“Oh God,” he gasped. “Wait...let me…” Somehow, he managed to fumble his wallet from his back pocket and locate the condom he kept tucked away there. It was almost a relief to slide it on—at least it provided a small barrier between his burning flesh and her silky skin. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes. Very sure.”
He gently lowered her to the grass, and she hooked her legs around his waist. He paused, staring down at her, almost incredulous that she was there like that, with him. She was so open, vulnerable, and giving, and soon she would be his completely. He took a deep, steadying breath and aligned himself with her body, the tip of his cock nudging her opening. Dean eased himself into her, taking his time. She was so slick, wet and ready for him, but she was so, so tight. His fear of hurting her intensified and made him hesitant.
Marisol didn’t have the patience or the time for his fear, though. Instead of letting him set the pace and keep it slow, she thrust her hips up to meet his, sheathing him completely. They both gasped as she took in every inch of him, and before Dean could even choke out her name, their bodies were doing what they were built to do, following a rhythm older than time itself.
“Tell me...if I’m hurting you.”
“Doesn’t...hurt. You’re perfect.” She dropped her head back and arched her spine, meeting him stroke for stroke. “Oh God...perfect. It’s perfect. Feels...feels…” As she spoke, she moved, quickening the pace. He didn’t want to go any faster, but he couldn’t help himself from getting caught up in her tempo. The friction, the heat, the glorious reality of her body was too much to withstand. “Oh...Dean.”
He felt her shake apart the moment his world exploded. They clutched at each other, entwined and frozen as they rode out the force of their mutual pleasure together. It felt like an eternity before he had the strength to lift his head and gaze down at her. She smiled back at him, shy and alluring—and satisfied.
“Mari...God, I love you.”
Her smile widened. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I love you, too.” She pulled him into a slow kiss. He lost himself in the caress, caught up not in raw passion but in the pure, sweet pleasure of her mouth. During his stay in the hospital, he felt like a man without a purpose, but now he understood how foolish that was. He had the money from all the purses he’d won over the past several years, he had his life and his health, and most importantly, he had Marisol. The brightest light in his world. The axis on which his entire universe rotated. The heart on which he could place his faith, his hopes, and his fondest dreams.
THE END
Sizzling Hot SciFi Romance By Meg Ripley
My Encounter With A Sweet Alien
"A glow from the forest caught her eye and she turned to investigate; Amy could see a strange light pulsing deep within the darkness of sleeping trees. What—or who—could possibly be in the woods? Her heart raced in fear, but she knew she had to find out."
In her wildest dreams, Amy could never have imagined what she would encounter that night in the forest. Luke, a devastatingly gorgeous being from another world, is in dire need of help after his spacecraft crash lands in the woods behind her farm. Unbeknownst to her, he will stir an overwhelming desire deep within her, capturing her heart and changing her life forever.
Outside her open bedroom window, the cows in her pasture stood sleeping as a gentle breeze wafted across the hardwood floors and onto her skin. Amy shuddered slightly and rolled over. Though the clear sky above dotted the earth with twinkling lights of a thousand stars, and the world around her peaceful farm lay still in the night air, a feeling of dissonance washed over her. Her loyal husky, Shiloh, stirred at the foot of the bed anxiously, causing the old springs of her four-post bed to groan under the weight.
“What is it, Shiloh?” she moaned, the sleep still fresh in her eyes. “Why are you so anxious tonight?”
Shiloh lifted her head, her blue eyes reflecting in the moonlight. She yelped in Amy’s direction.
“If only you could actually speak, Shiloh.” Amy gave a long stretch and surveyed her bedroom carefully through the darkness. Twilight spread across the hardwood floors, giving an eerie glow to the objects it touched, but nothing appeared to be disturbed.
Shiloh leapt from her place on the bed, slapping her large paws against the wood beams and sending an echo through the silent house. She huffed again and let out a yelp that signaled distress. Outside, the herd rustled
now, shifting nervously as if something else had joined them in the field, disturbing their peaceful slumber. Amy felt a chill sweep up her spine.
“I feel it too, Girl,” she said, stroking the pacing husky’s fur. “I’m gonna go check it out.”
Amy knew something was out there. She headed for the door, placing a pair of muddy work boots on her naked toes and lifted her shotgun from its usual seat above the door.
Shiloh followed loyally across the room. Amy turned and gave her a warm smile; “No, Girl--go lay down,” she cooed, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Shiloh whined, then obediently returned to her bed next to the stone fireplace as Amy opened the front door to a rush of cool night air. Outside, the brightness of a full moon gave the appearance of mid-day to the barn and driveway, sparkling across freshly cut grass and rocks. She stepped off the porch and turned towards the field behind her home, but nothing appeared out of sorts.
A glow from the forest caught her eye and she turned to investigate; Amy could see a strange light pulsing deep within the darkness of sleeping trees. What—or who—could possibly be in the woods? Her heart raced in fear, but she knew she had to find out.
Her boots crunched the small, fallen twigs below her feet as she crept towards the glow. Into the thickness of the forest, the moonlight was trapped by the lush canopy, filling the area with a deep blackness almost too difficult to see within.
Amy followed the pulsing light, stumbling upon exposed roots from the tall oaks as she trudged forward. But something drew her to the pulsing light; like a moth to a flame, she felt compelled to press on.
A few hundred yards into the forest, she froze, eyes widening at the sight before her. Nestled among a small clearing laid a ship; it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was long and smooth, as if it had been crafted from a single hunk of metal. Its tip came to a sharp point, which was buried part-way under the earth; Amy wondered if its driver had some difficulty while landing. The light that had drawn her was coming from what appeared to be runner lights, dotting the edges on either side of the ship. They flashed brightly in the darkness, illuminating the area with a green glow. Amy inched closer, grasping the barrel of her shotgun nervously, prepared to fire at the first sign of trouble.
The door hung open; the ship appeared to be abandoned. She leaned in, squinting her eyes in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the ship’s owner. Only the sounds of a cool breeze wafting through the treetops could be recognized, and the hum of the ship’s quiet engines below her.
Suddenly, Amy felt a large hand rest on her shoulder. She shrieked and leapt forward in a stumble, pushing the hand away and whirling around to aim her gun.
Before her stood a man swaying slightly, as if ready to collapse at any moment. He was tall, at least six and a half feet in height, with dark brown hair and shimmering deep emerald eyes. His breath was labored, heaving beneath the chilled muscles of his chest as he struggled to remain upright. He was simply gorgeous.
Just then, the stranger collapsed into a heap on the ground, his large hands catching the earth to stop his fall. He gazed up at her frantically, those emerald eyes catching the glow of the engines and melting her heart. Amy helped him to his feet and without a word led him back to the farmhouse. I must be crazy, she thought.
His head hung low, allowing the longer strands of his hair to dip and cover his mud-splattered face. She struggled to place him in a seat at the kitchen table where he finally slumped with a labored grunt. She gazed down at the weakened stranger in her kitchen, his head still hanging low as if at any moment, he would fall from the chair to her floor.
“Are you hurt?” She spoke hesitantly, and the stranger looked up.
He shook his head to signal ‘no.’ “Hungry,” he groaned; his voice was deep and sexy.
Amy nodded and searched the kitchen for something quick. She returned moments later, carrying a loaf of bread and some soup from the previous night’s meal. She placed the meal on the table beside him.
Amy sat down and watched, puzzled, as the stranger examined the food. He picked up the spoon and hesitantly dipped it into the soup, bringing it to his soft, full lips for a taste. His face lit up with a grin and within minutes, the bowl’s entire contents were gone, followed quickly by the bread.
“Wow, you were hungry,” she chuckled.
“Thank you,” he beamed. “My rations ran out a week ago. Any longer and I wouldn’t have made it.”
“So… who are you, and how did you end up in my woods? Are you in the military?” Amy was curious about the strange man she’d allowed in her home. As handsome as he might be, he could still be dangerous.
“I mean you no harm,” he said with a reassuring smile, “I’m not from this planet, nor am I military. My name is Lukavyt-r, and I’m an explorer.”
Amy blinked in surprise at his response. This beautiful creature was nothing like the movies had portrayed. She marveled at his long, muscular arms resting calmly on the table and the warm smile spreading across his stubble-lined face. With careful observation, the subtle differences became clear: his ears were longer than that of a typical human’s, coming to a smooth point at the tips; his shimmering white teeth held the slight hints of fangs.
Amy’s heart raced, she suddenly felt overwhelmed with desire to reach out and run her hands along his deeply muscled body, as if some unseen force was drawing her in.
He gave a seductive grin, watching her longing grow. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?” he raised an eyebrow. “You seem… occupied.”
Amy quickly returned her gaze to his eyes, blushing a slight shade of crimson. He had sensed her desire, somehow, as if he carried a sixth sense. She felt exposed, as if she may as well be standing before him naked. Yes, he was attractive but this was something more—something deeper than the mere sight of a sumptuous man in her kitchen.
“No… I’m not nervous,” she cleared her throat and sat upright, “just curious, I suppose. For starters, why were you looming around in the woods, Lukav-…Luk… sorry, can I just call you Luke?”
He gave a long, deep laugh, “Luke it is. I wasn’t looming; I was lost. I landed here accidentally when my fuel gauge malfunctioned. I left the ship to find help and ended up wandering astray through the trees.”
The two talked well into the early hours of morning. Luke described his home planet, which he had left years prior in search of unexplored worlds outside their galaxy. He spoke of the desert lands his home plant had become, barren of trees save a few select areas where the remainder of his people had migrated for life-sustaining needs.
“The air is heavy now from the loss of oxygen.” His eyes grew dim and sadness swept across his face, reflecting on the dire situation of his people. “We’ve been forced to live underground where the air is pumped in through machines, and the planet is heating up at a rapid rate. My people decided to deploy scouts to evaluate surrounding areas to see if they’d be suitable for us to inhabit.”
“Are there others here…” Amy hesitated, “like you?”
“No,” Luke shook his head sadly, “I lost communication with the other ships nearly a year ago. I am several light years from home, and I can only hope they found a new planet somewhere closer.”
Outside her window, the birds began to chirp loudly, signaling that morning had come. Shiloh inched closer, nudging Amy with her muzzle to signal that she needed to go outside. Amy gave Luke a polite smile and took Shiloh to the door, letting her out to roam free.
When she returned, he had placed his head down on the table, clearly exhausted. Amy couldn’t help but feel safe near him, even though he was from another world. She placed her petite hand on his brooding shoulder gently.
“Hey,” she cooed, “why don’t you stay here and rest awhile...at least until you get your strength back. I have a spare room you can use to get some sleep.”
He nodded, “Thank you, most graciously.” Luke followed her upstairs, his heavy boots clumping on the wood. Amy could feel that
he was sizing her up from behind as she walked, forcing a grin on her face.
She led her exhausted new guest to an open door adjacent her own and motioned for him to enter. “You can stay in here. I live alone—well, except for my animals—so no one will bother you. I’ll be around if you need anything.”
She left Luke to rest, closing the door to his room softly. Once free of his stare, she leaned her head against the door and gave a sigh. There was something about him that sent her body spiraling out of control; some deep attraction unlike anything that Amy had ever felt before.
****
The warm water of her shower felt good after a day outside. Standing in front of her mirror, she wiped away the veil of steam and gazed at her reflection. Amy was tall, with long flowing chestnut hair that trailed down to her tight ass when allowed to roam loose. She was a natural beauty—her sun-kissed skin held a deep golden tan year-round; her deep brown doe eyes made men swoon with a single glance.
Dropping the towel to the floor, she prepared to dress, taking a moment to survey her curves with a smile. The daily work on her farm gave her a shapely figure with the perfect combination of muscles and silky softness. Her breasts, full and supple, hung loose while she dried the beads of water from her long legs. Her thoughts wandered once more to the sleeping stranger nearby and she felt a wave of desire flow through her. Luke hadn’t left his room all afternoon—she came indoors to check up on him several times throughout the day—yet she could feel his presence nearby.
Amy gave a shout as the bathroom door busted open, forcing a rush of cold air into the room. Luke stood in the doorway, gaping in her direction. He stared, wide-eyed at Amy’s naked figure before him, as if he had never laid eyes on a woman before. His firm jaw hung open and his emerald eyes remained fixed on the site. Amy reached for the towel with a shriek and covered her breasts modestly.