“Ah.” He picks up his fork and shakes it at me. “I’m not just anyone.”
“No? What are you then?”
“I’m the one for you.”
“Hmm. That’s a bold claim,” I tease.
“It’s not a claim,” he snorts. “It’s the truth.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Admit it.” He shakes his fork at me again. “You’re mesmerized by me.”
“Mesmerized by the alien mercenary.” I shrug. “I suppose there are worse things a girl could be.”
“You are no girl,” he murmurs.
I laugh.
The waitress returns with some kind of chocolate tower, and when I break off a piece with my fork, molten chocolate oozes out, and I'm thrilled. Chocolate is one of my weaknesses.
We indulge, and at one point, Tox reaches over and wipes my lips, smearing chocolate on them. I lick it off, and Tox sits straight up as if he has something jammed inside of him. More likely than not, he has an erection that he can’t quite feel comfortable sitting on.
I grin to myself and make a point of licking my lips every chance I get, just to drive him wild, but the glint in his eyes isn’t lust. I know it’s not. Yes, he wants me, but it’s something deeper, something stronger that’s causing his eyes to shine.
Something I don’t want to worry about right now. We’re celebrating. That’s enough for me.
It’s not too much later that we pay and leave. The meal took a long time, and after we finished our Long Islands, we both switched to waters, so I’m willing to drive us home after all. Tox has his hand on my knee the entire drive home. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he first put his hand there, but he behaved like a perfect gentleman, not having his hand move up on my thigh until I parked in front of the house. Then, he inches his hand up, squeezing every few inches, and I turn to him.
“We aren’t doing anything in here,” I inform him.
“In the house then?” His eyes sparkle.
“I need to check your wound first.”
“Strange foreplay, but if that’s what’ll turn you on…”
“It’s the only way we’ll get it on,” I inform him with a snort.
We head inside, and as soon as I close the door, Tox drops his shorts. His erection pops out, staring right at me, and I just shake my head as I walk away.
“Where are you going?” he calls as I enter the kitchen.
“Washing my hands.”
He enters the kitchen, and I check his wound. It is already showing signs of healing, and it looks good, with no sign of infection, no strange smells, nothing off at all.
“I think you might’ve done that before,” he accuses as I cover the wound again.
“Removed a bullet? Yes. I stitched myself up after too. You might need stitches. I’m not sure.”
“It should heal itself,” he assures me.
“I should’ve thought about the stitches earlier, but…”
“But?”
“You distract me,” I admit.
“Not during the battle.”
“I was going out of my mind with worry over you.”
“You? How about me? You bled when I shot you!”
“I had to in order to sell it! Fake blood, obviously.”
“Yes, well, you could’ve told me that beforehand,” he grumbles.
“Oh, and what do you think I was thinking when you got shot!”
“I was fine!”
“Yes, well, you—”
Whatever else I was going to say his lips swallow up, and he carries me to the bedroom, not letting his lips move from mine so I can’t laugh even though I want to.
I’m that deliriously happy.
I’ve never felt like this before.
It’s strange and new.
But I like it. I like it a lot.
19
Tox
I lay Sophia onto the bed, and I tenderly take off her clothes. The sight of her beautiful body beneath me has my cock throbbing with need.
I need her.
I must have her.
I will have her.
First, I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent and then licking, kissing, and biting her. She gasps and moans, wiggling beneath me, and I love the way she moves, the way she teases me, the way I torment her because I most definitely am tormenting her.
From there, I assault one of her nipples and then the other, loving the way she reacts to my every touch. I lick one of her nipples and then breathe onto it, and she shivers with delight.
She’s mine. The way she reacts to me… There’s no one else for her. She has to realize that? That her boobs are mine to hold and fondle, her nipples to kiss and suck on, her pussy to fill with my cum over and over again.
She’s mine.
And I’m hers, I realize as a groan escapes me the moment she reaches down and brushes her fingers against the head of my cock. She rubs her thumb over the head, spreading my precum over the tip, and I’m afraid I’m going to blow my load right now, onto her stomach rather than inside her.
That would be an ovian shame.
I wiggle and try to move down so that she can’t touch my cock, but she wraps her legs around my waist and flips us, rolling us over so now she’s on top, and I’m on the bottom.
Sophia grins down on me. “My turn to be on top.”
“Go ahead,” I challenge her. “Ride me. Claim me if you can.”
“Don’t even try to pretend that you aren’t claimed already,” she counters, flipping her head so that her hair flies. It’s so ovian sexy.
Everything she does is sexy.
“You’re the one claimed.” I reach up and touch her throat that’s marred with fresh hickeys.
She touches the side of her neck. “You do like to leave marks, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I can leave my own mark.”
With that, she dips down her head, and she licks a long line from my neck down my pecs, through my six pack, down to my cock. She licks the length of me, kisses the tip, and then she takes one of my balls into her mouth.
Fuck. Ovian. I can’t see, can’t think, can’t breathe.
When she presses with her teeth ever so slightly, I can’t stop myself. I’m erupting, and Sophia releases my ball and claims my cock, sucking down every squirt except for the first one.
After she swallows, she smirks at me. “Well, now, that was almost too easy.”
“You were supposed to ride me,” I grumble.
“I will. Next time,” she promises.
I make my cock wiggle. “What about right now?”
She eyes me dubiously. “You can?”
I eye her and then stare at my still-hard cock.
She grabs my shaft and pumps once. “You are really hard, but will you be able to stay that way?”
“Will you let me prove myself to you?”
She slowly nods. “Go ahead.”
“Then ride me.”
Sophia gives me a look that says really? But she does sink herself onto my cock. She’s so wet and tight that I love it.
“Go ahead,” I urge. “Ride me.”
“I will.”
She eases herself all the way down, taking every inch of me inside her, and then she rocks forward a little bit.
Fuck that. Too slow. Not hard enough. I need more.
But she continues to torture me, lifting her hair behind her head, her boobs bouncing magnificently. It’s just that my balls want to blow again.
I groan and place my hands on her hips.
“No,” she says, forcing them away.
“But—”
“Not yet,” she says firmly.
“But—”
“It’s called going slow and easy,” she says.
“But—”
“I’ll speed up.” She winks. “When I want to.”
I grimace, but after she maintains that slow, torturous pace, I reach my hand down, and I find her clit and flick it. She lets out a hiss
, so I do it again. She’s even wetter, so very wet. Sophia loves the way I touch her, and ovian, do I love to touch her.
My other hand rests on her hip again, and I keep on applying pressure on her clit. She’s panting, going a little faster now, and I can tell she’s close, but she’s not quite there yet.
So, because she’s torturing me, I stop rubbing her clit with my thumb.
“What?” Her eyes fly open, and she glowers at me. “Please, Tox.”
“Please what?”
“Touch me,” she whimpers.
“Go faster,” I urge.
She grits her teeth.
“Why won’t you?” I ask.
“The other guys I’ve been with, if I go slow like this, they lasted longer. Not that any of them lasted all that long, but—”
“Did they make you come?”
“No.”
“I do. Reward me by going faster, and we’ll both come.”
“You already did,” she grumbles.
“You need to stop treating my dick like it’s one from Earth.”
"You think you can come already again? It hasn't even been a half-hour!"
“I can, and I will, but only if you go faster!”
I find her clit again and rub it, going a little faster than she prefers, but with the way she’s not frantic against me, I can tell that she approves. Maybe sometimes, she likes it as rough as I do.
Speaking of rough, I quickly make Sophia orgasm. Her walls clench against me tightly, but as hard as she’s going, I need more, and my hands fall to her hips. I drive into her again and again and again, my fingers digging deep into her pale skin. My hips buck up, driving me deeper and deeper into her, faster, harder.
“Do you like that?” I grunt.
“Y… Y… Yes!” She can barely get the word out because of all of her moaning. Her head is thrown back, her neck glistening from where I kissed and licked it, and the sight is glorious, the bruises too, the ones already fading and the new ones.
I’m not sure if I can remain on the bottom if I’m going to orgasm, but then she lowers her head and stares down at me, a gleam in her eyes. She reaches behind her and cups my balls.
That, combined with a forceful thrust, has me orgasming. She cries out my name as she comes at the same time, and it's wonderful. It's perfect.
But it’s not enough.
I bring her down, hugging her and flipping us over so I’m on top, and I resume my thrusts.
“You can’t get enough, can you?” she teases.
“There’s never getting enough of you,” I pant.
“Never, huh?”
“Not… ever.” I time my response with thrusts.
She reaches up and pats my cheek, her caress soft and gentle, but then she grabs my shoulders.
“Come on, boy,” she murmurs. “Can’t you go harder than that?”
I pound into her, giving her all I have, and right when I think I’m almost ready to climax again, she puts her hand to my throat.
I still. What does she want from me?
Her hand slides down to my chest, resting above my frantically beating heart.
“Tox?”
"Yes?" The word comes out a groan because he's killing me. There's no other word for it. I am being killed. Death by sex. Death by delayed gratification. Lust overload.
Or maybe it’s love overload.
It’s definitely love overload. That’s the only possible explanation as to how it can be that I’m not thrusting inside her right now.
“It’s too much,” she whispers.
“What is?” My heart aches. If she can’t handle this, we’ll stop. I don’t want to overwhelm her.
“I just…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
I kiss her forehead. “Talk to me.”
She wiggles beneath me, and I can’t help moaning. My cock is still inside her, and the erection is starting to hurt because I’m not thrusting. I need release and soon, or else a ball might explode.
“I’ve never orgasmed so strongly before,” she murmurs. “it’s almost… too much.”
I stifle a laugh. She’s serious.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I ask.
“No! It’s… It’s too much! I can’t handle it!”
“Then you need to orgasm more,” I suggest.
She playfully slaps my shoulder. “Why am I not surprised that that’s your solution?”
“Can’t hurt to test out my theory, right?” I grin at her.
“You do realize you’re impossible, right?” she asks dryly.
“I try.”
“You don’t try. You succeed.”
“There’s only one way I want to succeed.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“And that’s giving you the strongest orgasm ever.”
Sophia bites her lower lip and then leans forward to nibble on mine. I groan and pull back.
“If you do that, I’m going to start going again,” I warn.
She giggles and nibbles on my lip again.
“So fucking hot.”
We continue to make love for so long that I don’t know how long we take. At one point, Sophia slows things down again, and she’s sweet and tender, kissing near my wound as if that would heal it and make it all better.
Yes, we're making love. This isn't fucking. It's not having sex.
It's so much more than that.
It’s an expression of my love for her.
It’s how I show and share my love.
All I want is to give her all of me, my body, my cock, my heart, my mind, my soul.
Everything that I have, everything I can give, I offer it all to her, and she accepts it.
And she gives back too.
After countless orgasms, we’re both spent, and she curls up on my good side, her head on my chest, and a wave of happiness washes over me.
This is peace.
This is happiness.
This is all I ever could have hoped for.
I would give anything to ensure this is my future forever.
My eyes close, and I love the way she fits against me. She’s tiny compared to me, short, but we can make it work.
We can so make it work.
We can make everything work.
I rub her back, enjoying the feel of her velvety skin beneath my palm. Eventually, I stop rubbing, though, so very content just holding her that I’m lulled into a sense of contentment I’ve never felt before.
A few moments later, her phone rings. My eyes don’t open, and I don’t move as she shifts slightly to retrieve her phone from her clothes.
She's lying against me, but more beside me than on top of me like she was curled up before. I miss her warmth, her presence, the pressure of her body on me, but that's all right. We'll have time to cuddle more once she's done on the phone because I'm guessing that she's going to answer.
“Yes? Hi, General.”
Yep. She answered.
“What can I do for you?” Sophia asks.
I wonder what the general wants. Does it have anything to do with finding John Doe’s hideout? Does he have some kind of master plan that’s been kicked off?
There’s a short pause.
“Yes. Yes,” Sophia says.
Another pause. I strain, trying to overhear the general, but I can’t make out her words.
“No, that’s—”
From the way the bed shifts slightly, I think she’s nodding.
“When would you need me to leave? That soon? Can’t it—”
Another pause.
“Yes, I understand. It’s important to—Yes.”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
I grit my teeth. What’s with all of the yes-ing?
“Yes, I accept the job.”
What job?
20
Sophia
“I understand,” I tell the general. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“As if I would have called anyone els
e,” she says, sounding far more amused than I’ve ever heard her.
“I’m just glad that John Doe was lying about more than just his name.”
"Me too, but we can talk about that more later when you come here."
“Yes, tomorrow morning.”
“Bright and early,” she instructs, and she hangs up.
I toss my phone aside and notice that Tox’s positioning has changed. I’m not sure if he ever did fall asleep, but he definitely stiffened a bit when I told the general that I accepted the job, and I don’t mean his cock.
“Tox?” I murmur.
His eyes open, and he stares at me. His expression is almost unreadable, but I know him. I can almost sense what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.
He wants to know what the future has in store for us.
He wants to know about the job.
He wants to know if I’m leaving him.
But he says nothing, doesn’t verbally acknowledge that I spoke to him, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I’ve never meant this much to anyone before. He’s acting as if I’m his entire world, and it’s off-putting, to say the least. It’s not something I’m used to.
But it is something I’m willing to get used to.
“That was the general,” I say even though I’m sure he gathered that.
“With another job for you.”
“Yes.” I eye him and sit up.
He grunts and does the same. The blanket is a sticky mess from all of the cum we shared and leaked everywhere. Why don’t romance novels ever mention that? Not that I read a lot of romance novels. I prefer paranormal romances, actually, the ones with scary vampires and hunky werewolves. I haven’t read many alien romances, although they sell like hotcakes nowadays. Women love the idea of meeting a Novan or a Kurian and being whisked to bed to experience their legendary cocks, and after having experienced one myself, I can assure anyone and everyone that the rumors about their cocks are true.
So no, I haven’t read many alien romances before, and I don’t see the need to read one now considering I’m living out my own real-life alien romance.
Who would’ve thought?
“What is it?” Tox finally asks.
“Hmm?” I’m so distracted by my thoughts that I forgot what we were talking about.
Mesmerized by the Alien Mercenary Page 12