“Do you feel this?” I ask as my fingers wrap around his hardness.
“Yes,” he answers, slowly blinking.
I stroke him as I gaze over the firm, muscular body beneath me. With my free hand, I untuck the corner of my sarong and let gravity do its work as I try to keep the breath going in and out of my lungs.
His hands brush the sarong the rest of the way from my body and he lifts my shirt gradually over my head and off of me. “Lie down,” he says, and I lean forward, pressing my body against his.
He wraps his arms around me and I can feel his warm tip brushing against my lower lips. My mouth comes open, though no sound escapes, and I’m poised in expectation until that moment when he slowly starts lifting his hips and he enters me, a little at first and then more and more with every return.
I was expecting pain or some kind of discomfort, but instead, I’m ravenously kissing Ryker’s lips, grinding him ever deeper.
He’s already lasted longer than Nick (stupid Nick.)
His hands move over my back, and I can feel the ocean breeze, only enticing me more as I rise to my knees, putting both hands flat on his chest. My inner thighs shudder as I move over him, increasing the tempo, the point of our physical connection sending decadent shockwaves of pleasure throughout my being.
Now, with his hands on my waist, I flip my hips, riding him harder, faster. He blinks and his mouth opens as he breathes more deeply now.
I lean back a little, grasping my breasts, using my knees to lift and lower myself over him.
Before I’ve even formulated the thought into words, he reads my mind, sitting up and pulling me close to him.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders, I hold on tight as he lifts me, rising to his feet.
He’s still inside me as I kiss his mouth.
There’s no strain in his face from holding me like this. I may as well be weightless.
“Keep your legs tight around me,” he says. “Lie down.”
He’s still inside me as he lays me down onto the soft covers of the bed below.
His arms are still around me, holding me as I pull him toward me with my legs until he’s filled me completely, and I’m whispering, “Do you feel that?”
“Shh,” he says, and both our bodies begin to tremble. “Yes, I feel that. Lift your hips.”
Feeling him inside me is no longer desire, but need and I can hardly feel the bed beneath me. I set my feet flat on the mattress and use them as leverage to raise my hips, and he pushes even deeper, harder.
I hardly feel anything but him.
Unexpectedly, he puts one arm under each of my knees and lifts, rotating me until I’m on my stomach, and when he enters me again, he’s going fast, hard. I’m just trying to keep the air flowing in and out of my lungs.
With one hand on my lower back, just above the tailbone, he guides my pussy toward him as he pushes in, making every thrust just on the pleasure side of pain.
It’s a little frightening at first: I never thought I was the type to like it hard and fast like this, but if he were to slow down, I’d probably start losing interest.
He kisses me hard and with passion, our tongues playing fearless games, as I lose control of my body entirely.
I’m shaking, I’m sweating and there’s this growing sense of urgency throughout my body until it erupts in a sensual explosion beyond anything I thought my body was capable of feeling.
I glance back over my shoulder at him. His eyes are nothing but pure, penetrating desire, and they are my only focal point.
“Come with me,” he utters.
His hands are on my hips now, and the sound, smell and intensity of the moment puts me over the edge.
In my mind, I’m screaming with ecstasy, though the cool fire overwhelms my ability to breathe, much less vocalize.
He’s breathing so heavy above me, his muscles tensing and contracting, and a new line of sweat forms on his brow.
He pushes himself in all the way, and I can feel his hot cum preserving the warmth inside of me.
When I finally do find my voice, it’s little more than a whisper as I mutter the words, “Oh my God.”
We just stay like this a minute, both of us trying to catch our breath.
I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
He doesn’t say anything, but I kind of get the feeling we’re going to stay here as long as I want. Although I’m sure there’s got to be some kind of limit on that, I’m perfectly happy staying exactly like this for the foreseeable future.
Even as his erection starts to soften and he slowly slides out of me, I really think I’d be quite happy just lying here for eternity.
“Would you like for me to stay with you a while?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer in a slow rush of air.
He kisses my forehead and brings his arms out from under me.
“You’re cold,” he says. “I’ll warm you.”
“I am anything but cold,” I mutter, but it’s not an objection.
He smiles that bright, inviting smile and his eyes glisten as he puts one arm under my knees, the other one beneath my upper back, and he lifts me so I don’t have to move though I do wrap my arms around his neck for more support.
We’re both still naked as he carries me through the wide open doorway, over the porch, and down the steps onto the beach. There’s a massive towel set out near the sand. It’s as wide as Ryker is tall and about twice as much in length.
I feel like I’ve had a dozen sleeping pills, but I don’t want to miss a single detail of this moment as he softly sets me down on the sand, and I close my eyes as the warmth of the beach adds to the warmth of the sun, and he’s lying down next to me. His arms enfold me and everywhere in my being is this warm comfort.
“Is this going to be the only time?” I ask.
“It may take a few more tries,” he says. “It is always your choice to continue or not to continue, though.”
I lazily breathe in and out, just trying to absorb every feeling. “I’d like that,” I tell him. “I think I’d like that a lot, but I think I’m going to need a little bit of time to recover.”
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I just chuckle. “I just mean I’m exhausted,” I tell him. “Would you mind—”
“I will hold you until you fall asleep,” he says.
My mind is blank, passive. With every salty breath of ocean air, my body relaxes. Before long, I can feel my consciousness starting to slip.
I’m right on the verge of sleep when a wave makes it far enough up the beach to just touch the bare skin of my feet and I’m looking back up at the ceiling of the cabin once more. I’m naked, wrapped snugly in the afghan.
An incredible sense of peace begins to take hold over me, but that peacefulness is shattered as I hear a loud popping noise outside the cabin, and then a long hiss.
I’m sitting up, clutching the afghan and looking around for my clothes as a similar sound comes. Two more times this happens before I convince myself to leave the couch.
I walk to the window and peek out the blinds.
Someone is out there.
The figure is standing next to my car. The tires are all flat and she’s holding a knife.
It’s Mrs. Blaylock, and she’s just standing there, having slashed my tires. I don’t know if she can see me beyond my fingers pulling the blinds down, but she’s looking right at me.
Any remaining peace has been replaced by paralyzing fear, but after a minute longer, she simply turns and starts walking toward the road. I follow her with my eyes until she’s disappeared behind the trees which line the street.
She told me to stay away from the lake. I stayed away from the lake, but it’s clear enough the lake itself has nothing to do with it.
Whatever the reason, I’m now stuck here at Lake Vespertine.
Here I was almost starting to think that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Chapter 8
I’m lying on my back,
looking up at the “wings” of the butterfly nebula as they stretch out above me like clouds above the cities of heaven. At first, I may have been timid and conventional. Now, a beach house just off the ocean isn’t going to cut it. Whenever all this ends, I’m afraid nothing’s ever going to measure up, and I’ll end up living a life of tragic spinsterhood.
For now, though, I’m content to blink the bright pinks contrasting against the white of the inner wings and the orange of the outer reaches of the nebula in and out of view while my eyes adjust.
Ryker’s here, but he said he wanted to let me appreciate some of the finer things the galaxy has to offer before he adds the distraction of that firm, tender body. We’re still quite some ways away from the dying star at the center. We kind of have to be: The “wings” of the nebula stretch on for three light-years.
This close, the nebula doesn’t look so static as it does on my computer screen at home. Movement is gradual, but as the star’s energy heats the massive clouds of dust and gas, nearly every color in the spectrum makes an appearance, if only a small one. It’s the aurora borealis, but times about a billion. I may have the math wrong on that, though.
“It’s amazing,” I say, speaking for the first time in what could very well be a few hours. I’m a little embarrassed, having my first words in so long amounting to nothing more than lazy appreciation, but I can’t feel bad about it too long.
“I’m more interested in other things at the moment,” Ryker asks.
I let my head fall to the left, and I can see Ryker there, sitting on an overstuffed white couch next to a fireplace whose chimney isn’t attached to anything, just standing there like a monolith toward the edge of the flat, dark-floored observation deck of the ship.
I feel the satiny sheets beneath me, and I stretch my arms as I ask, “What kind of furniture do you and your people have?”
“We have what you call chairs and tables and many other things, but they are of a different material and often serve a different purpose,” Ryker answers.
I’m not interested in pursuing the conversation any further. The only reason I asked in the first place is that I’d love to be able to figure out something better to materialize than the same old boring comforts of grandma’s cabin. At least, this time, I went minimalist: couch, fireplace, bed. Okay, so I spent most of my creative energies imagining the bed into my part of the fantasy. The nebula, well, that’s Ryker’s contribution.
He has an incredible memory.
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
I’m naked, lying under a single sheet, and I feel Ryker climbing onto the bed. A moment later, he’s over me, his long hair falling around the edges of my face as we kiss. His tongue is hot against mine, and he’s slipping one hand underneath the top of the sheet covering me, his palm moving slowly down, between my breasts.
“How long do you think it’s going to take?” I ask.
“It’s a matter of chance,” he answers. “The more often we meet, the better chance we’re going to have.”
I put my fingers to his lips before he continues. Ryker’s hand reaches my core, and he teases me with the lightest touch of his fingertips.
Ryker slips a finger inside me, and I gasp a little before he slips it back out again. The pad of his dampened middle finger playfully moves in small, fluid motions over my clit and I’m already trying to pull this sheet off of me as I begin to sweat.
He’s looking at me so intently, but I can’t help knowing those gorgeous eyes are not his. I’m still nervous to see Ryker as he is. He’s offered before when it’s crossed my mind, but I don’t think I’m ready. For now, I’m content with the fantasy.
Ryker moves the top bed sheet down and tosses it off the bed entirely. His lips close over one of my nipples, already hard from anticipation. My breath comes in gulps and the view beyond what I typically know as the sky is starting to become overwhelming.
Without a word or even a gesture, the light outside grows darker until all of the stars and the flickering expanse of the nebula are barely visible through the nearly black dome.
“Thank you,” I mutter. “It was just a bit too much.”
There is a limit to these kinds of things.
Now, with just the two of us alone on the observation deck, it’s a much different fantasy. It’s still one I’m trying to work out, but tonight was supposed to be a baby step. In the back of my head, I know where I am, and I know—roughly—what Ryker is, but as long as it stays back there, there’s not a problem.
Ryker throws the sheets the rest of the way off of me, and he positions himself between my knees, wrapping his arms around my thighs and pulling me toward his waiting mouth. Once I’m right where he wants me, I feel his masterful tongue moving so deftly over my clit it feels like a constant, steady pulse, and my feet and arms slip against the satin sheets as I writhe in ecstasy.
My eyes close, and his arms are firm around my legs as he pulls his head back a moment, softly blowing a long breath of frosty air over my steamy core. I open my eyes and look down at him, quivering while he sucks the skin between my thigh and my waiting gap.
Gripping the sheets with my hands, I pull against them so hard, I expect the corners to come out from under the mattress, but more fabric keeps coming. I pull at the fabric until there’s enough to wrap around Ryker and me as he kisses his way up my body.
“I enjoy your taste,” he says, kissing my neck.
At first, it seems like just another part of the fantasy, but he’s voracious as he takes me in his arms. His tip runs over my opening, and I’m kissing him deeply on the mouth when I nod, and he enters me.
What light does come in through the gaps between where I’m holding the sheet slowly dissipates, and I can no longer feel gravity as we’re now in darkness. I release the covers, but we remain cocooned in this weightless abyss of endless satin, my only apparent connection to anything solid is Ryker as he holds me so tight against his body. Everything here is a little bit Kate in Wonderland.
“Kate,” Ryker says, and I didn’t even realize I’d closed my eyes again.
“Yeah?” I ask, kissing him and lifting my hips to meet his.
“Never mind,” he says.
I look around. The sheets are pulled from underneath the mattress and lie crumpled around us.
Was that not supposed to be part of it?
Ryker kisses my cheek and lifts himself to a kneeling position, and he lifts my lower half with him. I casually rest my feet behind his body, and he slowly pulls most of the way out of me before pushing back in, his tip perfectly coming to meet my g-spot.
At first, he’s slow, methodical, gentle. With every exhale of heavy breath, he increases his tempo, and I lower my hips to give him access to the deeper parts of me.
Leaning forward a little, he slowly walks his hands from my lower back upward, and he pulls me up until I’m wrapping my arms around his neck. Ryker’s eyes fill with unrestrained passion as I begin to tremble in his embrace.
“When it happens,” I breathe, “do you know what I want you to do?”
Ryker kisses me on the lips before hugging me close again. I’m resting my head on my arm on his shoulder, and his abs swell against the front of my body with every breath now as we both climb toward that waiting perfect moment where all else fades.
My breasts press against his chest, and his strong arms support me while the dome above us slowly begins letting more and more light through. My body gives way, finally as the now unobstructed view of the butterfly nebula stretches out above us, and I can’t tell with any confidence where he ends, and I begin.
Ryker presses himself all the way inside of me, and his body shudders against mine, and I can almost taste the stars around my periphery. My focus, though, is Ryker’s eyes. It almost feels like they guide me through the rush of endorphins and craving and satiety with the assurance those arms are still going to be around me no matter how much further I fall into this wordless feeling.
His mouth comes open, and his expre
ssion almost freezes for a moment as his breath catches, and I feel that new warmth inside me. The room fades into the background, and I just let his eyes all but melt the rest of me.
Ryker lowers me back onto the bed and then he moves to lie down beside me, facing me. We just lie here a few minutes, legs intertwined, enjoying the way the bright colors of the deceptively distant nebula slowly dance over each other’s bodies.
Alien Romance Box Set: Alien Heart Complete Series (Books 1-4): A SciFi (Science Fiction) Alien Warrior Abduction Invasion Romance Box Set Page 34
