Her Alien Prince

by Presley Hall

  Whatever this little nub is, it clearly brings her pleasure.

  Determined to make her feel good, I lick her again, a long roll of my tongue, and peer up through my lashes to watch her. Her eyes are squeezed closed, her hand fully covering her mouth, her head tossed back. The skin of her chest is blooming a pink blush.

  Heat and pride fill me at the sight of my mate like this, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

  I lick her again. Then again. Paying attention to her reactions, I experiment, using the tip of my tongue to flick at her so lightly that she chokes on a sob. I swirl around the little nub, and she pants. I lap at her, and she cries out.

  Then, I fasten my lips around the tiny bud and suck.

  I thought I was doing it lightly, but the noise she makes is loud and telling. I renew my efforts, my tongue circling and flicking at her, and her body starts trembling.

  Desperate to know what she looks like when she comes undone, I keep all my focus on that little point, sucking and lapping at it until her legs shake. She’s biting her lip now, and when I glance up at her, I see a woman drowning in what I’m doing to her.

  Suddenly, her slim hips start moving again, her back arching against the wall. My face is pressed up against her, my mouth is full of the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. She cries out and pushes her hips as far forward as she can, wantonly grinding her core against my tongue.

  She’s close to finishing. So very close.

  I wrap my lips around her small nub again, grab her by the hips, and press myself between her thighs as tightly as I can. My tongue swipes back and forth, around and around, and she tenses in my mouth before her hips tilt again and she’s crying out, her little hands buried in my hair as she rides my tongue.

  Her core starts to leak and after a moment, she slumps against the wall and her scent shifts into something more.

  Something spicier.

  So slanching good.

  Still starving for my mate, I lick faster. She gasps and wriggles away, but I want to taste more of her, want to feel her shatter around me again. My tongue twists and pushes and laps her from her button to her slippery little slit until she’s boneless against the wall, panting helplessly into her own hand.

  I hope this isn’t too much, because I’m far from done with her yet.

  17

  Charlotte

  As the stars that exploded in my vision when I came slowly start to recede, I look down and see Droth’s tongue darting out to taste me again.

  I almost want to rest for a moment after having the most intense orgasm since, well… ever. But thoughts of a break fly from my head when I feel one of his large fingers slip inside me. I suck in a breath as he pushes his finger deeper, and I can feel my entire core spasm around it.

  Droth groans, low and deep. The sound echoes through my bones, shaking me, making my breath pick up as I wonder how it would feel to have his cock gliding inside of me instead.

  He pumps his finger into me, and my center tightens around him. I look down in a daze to find that he’s already looking up at me. His cat-like blue eyes are dark and full of need. So foreign and wild.

  Holy shit, I think dazedly. This is really happening.

  I’m about to have sex with a strange man from a different planet. One I can’t even speak to apart from a few broken phrases I’ve managed to piece together in his language.

  It’s insane.

  But then again, all of this has been insane.

  There’s a small part of my brain telling me to stop now, that this is wrong, that I have a husband back on Earth, even if it’s in name only. But all of those protests are drowned out by the sound of my own loud heartbeat thumping in my ears.

  I don’t want to stop. It feels so good. It feels right.

  The swirling white markings on Droth’s skin have begun to glow faintly. He keeps staring into my eyes as he stands up. I’m still leaning against the wall, boxed in by Droth’s muscled arms as his hands come to rest on the wall on either side of my head.

  I glance down, curious, and I’m not surprised to find the evidence of his arousal straining against his loincloth. He looks huge, and I have a sudden thought that maybe his cock is slightly different than a human male’s, just like the rest of him. Instead of wondering for long, I reach downward to find out for myself.

  God, I don’t remember ever being this bold. Earth-Charlotte would never do this.

  Honestly, I kind of like being space-Charlotte.

  Droth is still watching me. His gaze is so intense it feels like the heat of sunlight on my skin, and a little thrill slides down my spine. My fingertips drift down his abdomen, trailing even lower until they reach his loincloth. When I get to it, I run my fingers under the hem of the material just like he did to me earlier, brushing against the velvet head of his cock with every pass.

  His breath quickens.

  Fuck, I like that.

  His hips thrust forward and flex, and when I look at him again, his lips are drawn back a little, revealing his white teeth and slightly pointed canines.

  I feel strangely powerful as I watch this fierce warrior react to my touch. I’m doing this to him. I’m the one driving him wild with desire, straining his control to the breaking point.

  I glance down as my hand creeps beneath his loincloth, my fingers sliding down his cock the farther I go. Droth’s body jerks as a grunt falls from his lips. His eyelids droop, his chest rising and falling powerfully. I finally reach the base of his cock, wrapping my hand around it as best as I can. His hips jerk once more as he groans again.

  I like that noise way too much. I like making him feel good. It’s as addictive as a drug—or so I assume. I was a pretty straight-laced kid and never really experimented with that stuff in high school or even college. It feels a little like I saved up all my daring and recklessness until right now.

  Because this—what I’m doing in this moment—is definitely both of those things.

  Daring and reckless.

  That knowledge doesn’t make me want to stop though. If anything, it urges me to keep going.

  My hand moves up and down Droth’s shaft again, and my eyes widen. It doesn’t escape my notice that there’s something very different about his anatomy.

  There’s a small, solid bump at the base of his cock, right where it meets his pelvis. I can’t get my hand all the way around him, but I can feel it with my fingertips. It’s similar to the ones on his spine, I think, rounded and slightly raised. As I stroke him lightly, I can feel a small ridge along the top of his shaft, extending all the way to the tip. When I slide my hand back down to his base to explore some more, I realize with a shock of arousal what the nub would be hitting if he were thrusting inside of me.

  My core tightens on reflex, and I look up at his face again to find his eyes wide open, the desire in them almost too much to comprehend. He lowers his head, and his lips find mine again, hungry and demanding.

  He’s a good fucking kisser.

  Even though his canines are slightly longer than mine, we work around that easily, our tongues sliding against each other. As I run my tongue over one of his elongated teeth, he scoops me up by the backs of my thighs and wraps my legs around his hips again. I grind my center against the bulge in his loincloth and wrap my arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss, sliding against his cock, impatient to feel it filling me.

  “Rhael,” he groans, drawing back enough to speak against my lips. “Hebrek aluad tuartha. Rhael.”

  Whatever rhael means, the way he says it makes my pussy clench.

  As I kiss him again, Droth wraps his arms around me and pulls me away from the wall, carrying me across the room as if I weigh nothing.

  I feel his weight shift as he kicks off his simple leather sandals. Before I know it, I’m falling backward in his arms, and the mattress cools the heated skin of my back. Droth breaks our kiss and leans up on his knees before he unhooks his loincloth, tossing it to the side without ceremony.

  It hits the floor somewhere
near the bed, and my mouth falls open a little. He’s been almost-naked this whole time. I’ve already seen his bare chest, his arms and shoulders, his legs. But seeing him like this, completely naked as he kneels before me, is somehow completely different.

  Unable to keep my gaze off him, I prop myself on my elbows and study his naked form.

  His white markings are glowing again. They’re bright, their beautiful patterns swirling over all the places that my gaze wants to roam. His muscled abdomen falls into a set of chiseled hips, and the markings there trail toward his cock as it strains between his legs.

  Holy shit. His cock.

  I knew he was big when I felt him a moment ago, but I didn’t think he was this big. For a moment, a little doubt wiggles its way between my hazy thoughts about how he’s going to fit.

  But weirdly, I trust him to take care of me. To make sure it feels good.

  He wouldn’t hurt me. I know it.

  Droth pulls my flats off and then crawls over me as I lower myself back down to the mattress. We’re staring at each other again, and I think we’re both a little breathless. I’m so distracted by his mesmerizing eyes that I barely notice when he snaps my dress away from the straps. The delicate hem tears away without much effort, and then he rips one of the seams at the side, leaving me lying naked before him.

  His cock is warm against my center, the broad tip of it rubbing against my clit, and I swear I can almost feel the head pulsing.

  Breathing heavily, Droth looks down, then back up at me. There’s a question on his face.

  Even without language, I know what he’s asking.

  And I know my answer.

  As insane as it might be, words can’t describe how much I want this man right now, how much I need him. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and after everything that’s happened today, I don’t have it in me to resist the pull between us.

  So instead of using words to tell him what I want, I reach down, grab both of his solid ass cheeks, and drag him forward.

  He slides into me in one long, perfect stroke, stretching me and filling me with a delicious ache. He’s so big. By the time he sheaths himself completely, I’m clutching on to him like he’s my anchor to life.

  It’s almost more than I can take, and I think he notices, because he doesn’t move for a long moment. Instead, he stays right where he is inside me and leans down, nipping my neck and murmuring words that I can’t possibly understand.

  Eventually, my muscles relax and the feel of him inside me shifts. Now it’s a lovely ache, and I clench him like a vice when his hips move experimentally. At first, they’re just soft thrusts. He’s barely moving, but I feel everything. I can even feel the rounded head of his cock bumping against some secret place I never knew existed.

  God, it feels so right.

  I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go, and he takes advantage of every bit of access I’m giving him, wrapping his arms under mine and anchoring me by the shoulders. He pulls out until only the tip of him pulses inside of me, and then he slides back in with a grunt. The node at the base of him presses against my clit, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out too loudly. There are dozens of people outside, and I don’t want them to hear me.

  He nips at my jaw and does it again, then settles deep inside of me, his node grinding over my clit. Slowly, he rocks into me, keeping the swollen tip buried deep inside me. My walls flutter around him, a heat pooling in my belly that I haven’t felt in a very long time.

  My limbs tighten around him as the room, the hut, and the entire planet blur away from existence.

  All that remains is Droth and me.

  I cry out when he lifts one of my legs and begins to thrust more powerfully, lighting up all of my nerve endings. He drops his head to kiss me deeply, and I kiss him back, a bubble of pleasure building up inside me, filling me with so many sensations I don’t know if I can stand it.

  Droth presses his hips tight against me and rides the swell of the pressure. Then, without warning, the bubble of tension inside me pops. Pleasure floods my body, radiating outward from my core in seismic waves. I’m riding on ecstasy, clutching at Droth and whimpering, my core spasming and sending shocks of electricity through my entire body.

  As the orgasm pours through me, Droth buries his face in the crook of my neck with a groan. He pumps himself inside of me a few more times before a shudder wracks his body and he comes hard too.

  His long canines scrape against my neck as he grinds his pelvis against mine, dragging out the pleasure for both of us.

  Finally, we both go limp, our sweaty bodies pressed together.

  Holy shit. I don’t think I have bones anymore. I’m mush.

  Droth mutters a string of words in his guttural language as he slides out of me. Even as he takes me in his arms, pulling me against his side, he’s still murmuring.

  I wish I could understand what he’s saying. I want it more than anything in this moment.

  He holds me close, his arms warm and protective as he folds me into the cradle of his body. He fits perfectly around me, his form warm and solid and protective against mine.

  My eyelids droop. It’s been a long fucking day—so long that I can barely remember where it started. Exhaustion pulls at me, but I don’t want to sleep.

  I want to repeat everything we just did all over again. I want to venture into the wilderness of this strange planet and explore. I want to find the other women and make sure they’re all right.

  But despite all of those wants, my body starts to shut down. My leg muscles are lax, my arms heavy. Droth is whispering now, his words slowing down into a sleepy drawl.

  I’ve done more today than on any other day in my life, and the two intense orgasms drained the last of what energy I had left. My eyelids flutter closed, and I slip into a deep sleep.

  I wake up to the sound of far-off chirping.

  It sounds like a bird, but the cadence is all wrong. Maybe it’s a bug on this planet, like an odd sort of alien cricket. Everything in the room is dark, which means it must be sometime in the night. What time, I have no idea. I don’t even know how long night time lasts on this planet. Is it eight hours? Ten? Or will it be here and gone before I know it?

  That thought brings home the startling reality that there’s so much I don’t know about this planet. The animals, the dangers, the language, the customs, the time. I don’t even know how to speak with the man I just had sex with, for fuck’s sake.

  God, this isn’t like me. I don’t have sex with strange men I just met.

  Joseph and I didn’t even have sex until we’d been dating for several months—although I’m not sure that’s a relevant example, since he admitted to me later that he knew even then that he preferred men. My relationship with Joseph was never really about the physical aspects. And it was certainly never about passion.

  I’ve always been smart and responsible, ruled more by logic than by emotion.

  So what the hell am I doing?

  The sex itself was… well, it was incredible.

  I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life. The connection between us, the way my body reacted to the smallest touch, Droth’s complete and total focus on me—it all pushed me to a level of arousal I’ve never experienced before.

  I can still feel the intensity of his stare, the purposeful way he touched me and ripped away my flimsy clothes like he had to have me that very instant.

  Like he wanted me more than anything else in the universe.

  I look over my shoulder. Droth is sound asleep, one arm thrown over my waist like a possessive weight. His eyebrows furrow a little, and he shifts closer to me, still breathing slowly and evenly.

  My eyes are adjusted to the darkness enough that I can map out the contours of his face, and my gaze lingers on his features for a moment. He really is incredibly handsome.

  He’s a good person too. I know it. He’s sharp, constantly observing and analyzing the world around him. He listens, even when he can’t understand
a word I’m saying, and he takes care of his people, who seem to respect him very much.

  It occurs to me that this language barrier between us is a blessing in disguise, in some ways. Without his words coloring my impression, I can focus solely on his actions. I’ve been known to be blinded by smooth-talkers in the past, but there’s no chance of that happening here.

  All I can judge this man by is what he does, not what he says. And every one of his actions thus far has been nothing but considerate and kind.

  I wish I’d found him when I was younger, before I met Joseph. He’s the kind of man I could’ve truly been happy to be married to.

  My thoughts stutter to a halt, and I look away from him to stare wide-eyed at the wall.

  Um, what?

  I just seriously thought about marriage to an alien. That’s got to be some sort of sign of mental instability. Surely no sane woman would fall in love or marry outside of their own damn species.

  It must be the shock. That’s got to be it. I crashed on an alien planet, was carried off by a carnivorous bird, fell from the sky, was attacked a second time by said bird, and was then surrounded by aggressive aliens with weapons.

  This entire day feels like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Of course my instinctive reaction was to form a bond with the first person who didn’t want to kill me.

  That’s it. That’s all this is. Some sort of survival instinct. The need to create a connection with someone during an emotionally heightened and stressful event.

  I’ve got to shake it off. I’ve got to get back to the ship and figure out how to get home. I’m doing something crazy—I’m developing feelings for an alien while I’m married, and I need to stop.

  Moving slowly and carefully, I slide out from under Droth’s arm. Chewing on my bottom lip, I search for my clothes, but I realize as soon as I see them that I’ve got a bit of a problem. My shredded nightgown lies near the foot of the bed, tossed there after Droth tore it off.

  Fine, whatever. I can deal with that. I just need to go.

  I grab the nightgown and knot it around my waist like a skirt, which works out okay. It’s a little short, and the entirety of my right leg is bare, but it covers the important parts—which is good, because my panties are basically unsalvageable.