Stolen: A Science Fiction Alien Mail-Order Bride Romance
Page 16
They kissed hungrily, mouths open as he slid to the ground. She tilted her hips, gesturing that he should get on his back. He moved, and she sat astride him, lowering herself onto his cock. He ran his large hands over her body, following the curves of her hips downward. She began to rock her hips over him, teasing him by keeping her movements shallow. Slowly, she lowered herself all the way down as he cupped her ass with his hands. As she moved, rocking her hips to control the rhythm, he reached up, teasing her nipples with his fingers. She moaned, throwing her head back as she arched her back, pressing herself into his touch. He moved his hand to her hip, guiding her, urging her to move faster. Her sex clenched as she moved faster, her orgasm building deliciously. She looked down at her warrior—he was at her mercy, and she liked it.
She moved with wild abandon, grinding against him. He growled again, a deep thrumming in his throat. He grabbed her legs, pulling her off him. He flipped her over, so that she was on her hands and knees. She leaned into it, her ass up in the air. He cupped her cheek, rubbing his hand over it. Although she couldn’t see him, she knew that he was admiring her. The thought of his gaze made her flesh burn. He entered her from behind, slowly. She bit her lip.
She cried out as her inner walls spasmed and a hot flash lanced her abdomen. She felt as though her whole body was in flames. She cried out for him as he pumped in and out of her furiously. She felt herself releasing as he came, his body collapsing against her as his hot seed spilled inside her. She turned over, lying back on the grass as she looked up at him. He knelt over her, kissing her gently. He heaved large breaths.
“Lie down, my love,” she said, patting the ground beside her. He lay down on his side, wrapping an arm like an iron band over her stomach. She closed her eyes, feeling his breath against her neck as they lay in silence.
Slowly, Zandra slipped off to sleep, tucked safely in Jurgen’s arms.
Zandra woke to the suns rising over the orchard. She had been dreaming—she was back on Earth, having lunch with Alisha. Zandra frowned. She wondered what had become of Alisha. Wherever she is, I hope she’s safe and happy, she thought. And that she’s found the love of her life. She turned over to face Jurgen. He smiled. She kept catching him watch her as she slept.
“Hey,” she said, smiling.
“Hi,” he replied. He kissed her on the cheek. “We should get back. The doctor will be looking for me.”
“Mmmm. Don’t want him to think you’re dead,” she said.
“No,” he agreed.
They stood up. He moved slowly, out of breath. She steadied him, then picked her dress up from the ground where it had been abandoned the night before. She pulled it over her head, arranging the soft fabric over herself. She saw him wince as he stood.
“Here,” she said, walking towards him. “You can lean on me.”
“I’m not used to feeling so weak,” he said.
“I imagine not,” she replied. “Let’s get you back home.” He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning on her slightly as they walked back through the now-silent orchard, which, the night before, had rung with the sounds of their pleasure.
“What’s next?” she asked.
“We enjoy the privacy of the house before it is filled with children,” he replied.
She laughed. “So soon?” she asked.
“I can barely keep my hands off you,” he muttered.
“True,” Zandra replied. She placed a hand on her stomach, wondering if, even now, she was carrying their child.
They walked out of the orchard. The Apaknor settlement was in sight. The Beta males were just walking out to the fields, the four-legged gunuks being herded out of their barn. They heard their names being called out as the Alpha who stood on the wall keeping watch spotted them returning. The bell rang out over the wide plain, announcing the arrival of the chief and his queen.
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Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Lace
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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events and dialog found within the story are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.
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