Sign Here for Horns: A SciFi Alien RomCom (Vandalar Concubines Book 1)

by V. K. Ludwig

  Her small hands dig into my shoulders, and I hoist us up, wrapping her slender legs around my waist. I carry her over to her bedroom, my nose shoving into her soft hair. Traces of soil and sweet ve’ni blossoms climb into my flared nostrils, my body burning, raging to add my scent to her skin.

  I lower myself onto her bed and work toward the center, the crisp linen almost biting against my heated palm. Closer. I need to be closer to her, skin against skin.

  Impatient fingers brush her shirt up over her head, tossing it into the room. Breasts exposed, I wrap my arm around her middle and pull her against me with a slap, groaning at the way we fuse.

  Lilly whimpers, tormenting me by grinding herself over my shaft. “Kiss me.”

  My mouth covers hers, tongue parting her lips without warning. I plunge deep, teasing little sounds of arousal from her, my hands stroking her back, kneading tense muscle.

  She digs her fingers into my hair, tousling it, the way she rubs the base of my horns, throwing me into a mindless haze.

  Can’t get distracted.

  Need to focus on her.

  Pulling Lilly even closer against me, I roll on top of her and lower her down, carefully catching a dark pink nipple between my lips. The little bud turns hard, and she arches her back with a moan, making it so easy to clasp the other between my fingers.

  I play with both of them, slowly increasing the intensity until her muscles tense. Releasing them, I caress one nipple with my tongue before I do the same with the other. All the while, I let my hand cup her warm flesh, a handful of breast matching her delicate frame so perfectly.

  “Lift your hips for me,” I say and tug her shorts down.

  I cup her lace-covered sex with my palm, dipping the fabric into her entrance with one finger, rubbing it in small circles. Male pride fills me over her aroused state. Not a single growl, but my fingertip grows wetter at each stroke.

  “No more pretending.” I use my horns to pry my head between her legs. “You enjoyed the way I licked you that night, didn’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How about this?” I place three fingers atop where her clitoris is located, increasing my pressure in the tiniest of measurements. The moment she jerks, I ease, watching in awe how her body relaxes once more. “There we go. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Amazing,” she murmurs, following it up with a hiss when I lap over her clothed entrance, soaking the fabric to a darker shade of green.

  I lie on my stomach, the way I roll my hips against a mattress with too little resistance out of my control. A week of Lilly subconsciously communicating her urge for release took a toll on me. I’m so veking loaded with seed, I immediately focus on breathing techniques.

  Keeping my fingers on her clit, I use my other hand to uncover her entrance, so pink, so dripping with that viscous fluid she produces.

  She cries out when I swipe my tongue through her slit. “Fuck, Jax, do it again.”

  I obey, sending long, broad strokes from the bottom of her entrance all the way up to where tongue meets the edge of my fingers. That’s how she likes it.

  “So wet again.” My mind grows dizzy at the taste of her lust. If I wet my crown on it, will she take all of me with one stroke?

  A shudder runs down my spine.

  Don’t even think about it, Jax.

  I move my fingers to the left, a mere breath of change, but enough to shift her clit slightly. I hold it there, pin it down, sensing every single throb wrecking the little bud. As expected, Lilly cries out and bucks, heels kicking the blanket.

  “Easy,” I croon between steady laps. “Just give in to the pressure. I promise I won’t rub or anything.”

  “It’s too fucking intense.”

  Clitoral stimulation. Something Lilly enjoys if applied broadly, and quickly retreats from if too focused, too intense.

  “Only if you keep bucking.” One might think I’m taking a gamble here, but I paid close attention the last time she spread her legs for me. This is what she needs, she just doesn’t know it yet. “Relax, Lilly. Trust me with this.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath, and I brace for a snarl. But she exhales instead, her tummy flattening, easing into the sensation.

  “How nicely your clit jerks underneath my fingers.” Another broad lick. “The tiniest pulsations, but I sense it right beneath my fingertip. I’m only pushing it to the side a little, holding it there. Is it as good as I promised?”

  “Mmmh,” she breathes.

  I alternate the way I vek her with my mouth, three slow, intense laps, followed by circling her entrance with the tip of my tongue. No penetrating. Just stimulating all those nerves where her labia transition from tan skin to a dark pink cave.

  She braces her soles against the mattress, pelvis bucking against my face, but I keep my rhythm even, my pressure steady. Fingers push and pull on my horns, and her body wiggles.

  I gently drape my tail over her stomach, right above her pubic bone, urging her to remain still. “Come for me, Lilly.”

  Her legs clasp me tight, but I just keep on licking. She’s right at the edge of falling apart. Another move of my hand and my knuckle pops over her clit. A guttural groan follows. It ends on a mere whimper, accompanied by a tremble that ransacks her body as she climaxes.

  I kiss her cunt. Soaked entrance, pubic bone, and the crease of her inner thighs. Unhurried, leisurely, giving her time to calm.

  She sprawls her arms out above her head, lifting a brow at how my tail lies across her stomach. “Did they teach you this as well?”

  “I’m mostly improvising,” I confess. “Our females don’t have a clitoris, but I’m trying to learn my way around it.”

  “I’m the odd one out. Lots of women love to have their clit tortured.”

  “Don’t care about others. Only you.” Grabbing her hips, I flip her onto her stomach. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

  Lilly giggles into her pillow. The moment I run my thumbs up to each side of her spine, giggles turn to deep moans.

  “You worked hard all week.” I knead the taut muscles underneath her shoulder blades, my knees positioned to frame her thighs. “Helping me get the plow unstuck. Preparing the seeder. Carrying bags half your weight.”

  “Mmmh, Jax,” she groans when I work her neck. “You could make a fortune with those hands.”

  I trail one finger down along her spine, watching her skin pebble underneath my touch, and tug her soaked panties down.

  My breath catches for a moment. Vek, she’s so beautiful. So undeniably female with her ass round and full, tying into hips shaped to gift a male with a daughter, and narrowing into a slim waist.

  I’m so hard it hurts, and yet a new rush of blood pumps into my shaft, crown already poking out from the waistband. This is pure agony. Inside. I want to be deep inside her, but that’ll ruin everything. It always does.

  But dipping in a little?

  Only the tip? Half my cock?

  As long as I keep that protrusion away from her, it might still satisfy her.

  Pressure builds against my shaft, and I stare down, almost spilling at the unexpected sensation. Lilly arches her back and lifts her pelvis, her ass brushing against my cock in one circular motion.

  “I’m using birth control,” she says.

  That’s not how Vandalar work, but I take it as an invitation, no, explicit wish, to penetrate. Fine. But I’m only going to dip in. I’ll find another way to make her orgasm again.

  Tugging on the pants with my tail, I lower myself down, shaft pressing against her pussy and ass. I keep most of my weight off her, arms bracing against the bed.

  I massage her neck and roll my hips, hard flesh wetting itself with each grind over her cunt and down toward the mattress. At the next thrust, my crown nudges on her entrance, the resistance throwing me into a mindless haze.

  My hips start pulsing, fast, and warmth wraps around my cockhead. I breathe against the building anxiety in my chest. I really shouldn’t penetrate her too d
eeply, but Lilly writhes and moans underneath me, angling her pelvis to receive me. Inch by inch, she sucks me in, and pleasure ripples along my shaft.

  “Lilly,” I moan, trailing my fingertips over her scalp, kissing her shoulder blades. “Are you sure you want this?”

  Say no. Say—

  “Please, Jax, please let me feel your ridges,” she begs, begs, and how could I deny this female anything, even if it’s my own downfall?

  I breathe against that pressure of panic expanding at my core. It’s fine. I can give her some of those ridges.

  She gasps when I push my tail underneath her, positioning it right at her pubic bone. “What are you doing?”

  “More friction,” I murmur and grab her hips as I push myself up, guiding them to roll over the soft muscle of my tail until she moans at each grind. “Yeah, just like that.”

  When her pelvis returns, I thrust deeper into her cunt, my balls tingling. Tight. Too tight? But Lilly pushes back, feeding my shaft into her canal with effort. And I just stare down, watching ridge after ridge disappear inside her sex, a quiet growl humming around my vocal cords.

  Each time she humps against my tail, my ridges leave her cunt, slathered in creamy-white lust.

  “You take me so well,” I whisper.

  “More,” she whimpers, her inner walls fluttering around my cock, making seed climb my shaft. “Please give me more.”

  Vek, she’s driving me insane.

  I rock faster past tight muscle, stretching her with hard strokes, until her cunt clenches on every single damn ridge I have to offer. Skin smacks against skin, and I realize that I’m veking her to the hilt. No snarls. No complaints. Maybe it’s the position? I never took a female from behind because… tail.

  Deeper. I need to be deeper.

  I tug on her hips and pull her onto her knees, driving into her with brutal strokes that have her moan. But she almost hums once I find the perfect angle, stabbing down before I roll my hips high, putting more pressure on her upper vaginal wall.

  “I’m so close to coming again,” she moans.

  I let my tail climb between her legs and press against her clit, making waves of muscle contractions run over her entire pubic bone.

  Lilly goes veking wild, bracing against the mattress, furiously spearing herself on my cock. I piston in and out of her, shudders ravaging my body to a near breaking point.

  It gets worse when her walls contract so tightly around my shaft, I clench my eyes shut. My balls rise with the urge to warm her belly with seed—something I never experience since it’s reserved for a claimed mate.

  Tremors run through her sex, and Lilly yelps when she comes so veking hard I have to shift one hand higher to keep her from collapsing away from me. Her back arches and her entire body goes stiff, her breathing ragged.

  I slow my movements, and she’s still heaving by the time she glances back at me, saying, “My knees hurt from crawling through the fields.”

  She leaves my cock aching, the nighttime chill licking around my heated shaft. But only for a moment, because she turns around and grabs my cock, guiding me back inside. And I just lose myself.

  I climb onto my knees, grab her thighs, angle one away slightly, and pull her onto my cock with a hiss. Wedged between her like this, I vek her deep, that protrusion at the bottom of my shaft pounding against her without mercy.

  And she just veking takes it, sucking on her lips and kneading her breast as if there’s nothing wrong with me. As if I’m not lacking. She takes all of me, and she takes it well, once again screaming in pleasure.

  “Vek!” I choke out, my thrusts so violent the pounding echoes from the walls. “How do I feel inside you, female?”

  “So fucking goood,” she moans, her words sucking the seed right up into my crown.

  “Say my name,” I demand, my entire body going rigid as I hold back my release.

  She moans. “Jax!”

  “Vek!” I shout, core swelling with a gratification never known before. “I’m so sorry, I can’t hold back.”

  I give another thrust deep into her cunt and hold it there. When my seed shoots forward, I pull out and grab myself at the base, sending spurt after spurt over her body, groaning like a beast.

  I dapple her with my release, seed clinging to her dark pink nipple, pooling in her navel, glistening on her cheek. I empty myself so completely I fear it might suck my soul right out of me. And I wouldn’t give a damn.

  Collapsing beside her, still shuddering, I cup her cheek, thumb wiping her clean as she gleams at me.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” I confess. “Saikhs give pleasure. They don’t take it unless the female demands it.”

  Eyes heavy with exhaustion still manage to narrow slightly. “Booty calls do.”

  I chuckle low, voice hoarse, liking this booty call thing even better now. “Satisfied?”

  “For days to come.”

  How can I possibly allow her body to rest after this experience? “That’s not what I wanted to achieve.”

  I lean into her touch when she trails her fingers over my temples, along the base of my horns as she whispers, “Your teachers would be proud of you.”

  An age-old weight lifts off my chest at her words. So many sun cycles at the saikhmenti, but it took a woman to teach me my most important lesson yet.

  There’s nothing wrong with me.

  I just never veked the right female.

  Until now.

  Eleven

  Lilly

  No matter how my boobs hurt, I position my hands in front of them, grab the right handlebar of the seeder, and press my chest against it full force. After four days of sowing, my muscles scream, and the tendons along my calves threaten to snap.

  My nostrils tingle from inhaling unusually moist and earthy air, mixing with the musk of Jax’s sweat, warm, and slightly sweet, and entirely too appealing.

  He pushes even harder to my left, driving the blood from his yellowish-white palms, which he holds wrapped around the metal. “The first thing I’ll do once we finish the fields is fix that veking tractor.”

  Wheels continue to sink into the tilled soil and get stuck. Like right now. Add two-hundred pounds worth of seed to it, and you have two people at the brink of physical exhaustion.

  “On three,” he says, the low-hanging clouds casting an odd yellowish-green hue across his glistening body. “One. Two. Push, Lilly.”

  I throw my entire 130-pound-and-some-change body against the seeder, digging heels into a soil that crumbles away underneath my soles. Calling it quits and returning to Earth never sounded better, but Uncle Pedro didn’t raise no quitter.

  The wheels dislodge and finally start rolling again, and I exhale a breath of relief. “We did it!”

  “You had doubts?” he asks, his smile tired, which makes it all the more precious.

  He wraps his tail around the handlebar right next to my hand and pushes. Not for the first time. That thing comes in handy whenever I lack the strength to keep this thing going straight.

  A sudden breeze blows over my cracked lips. “Oh my goodness, this is so refreshing.”

  Until the wind cools the fine mist of sweat on my body, so slicing cold a shiver rattles my bones. That shiver creeps into the marrow, manifesting itself as panic that numbs my spine. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

  At the edge of the field, which marks the end of my property, a row of shrubs meets a poison-green horizon. It mixes with the dark gray of clouds, telltale swirls of purple making this nightmare complete.

  “Jax!” I shout out and point straight, my hand shaking. “There’s a torrent coming.”

  He pulls his tail from the metal, flicking it nervously behind him. “You said the monsoon isn’t supposed to start until next week.”

  “It isn’t.” And that’s just my luck again. “The forecast didn’t say anything.”

  But nature cares as little about forecasts on Agari II as it does on Earth. The way my hairs stand on end is the proof, amplified b
y how the roar of this unexpected downpour creeps toward us.

  “We need to get the seeder out of the field,” Jax barks. “The last thing we need is the tires getting buried in mud.”

  We struggle it toward the closest edge of the field, first raindrops pelting against my scalp. Within seconds, they soak my hair, and my shirt clings wet and nasty to my shoulders, chafing over hard nipples.

  Underneath us, the tilled soil turns into a slick mess, and the soles of my shoes keep slipping. After weeks of drought, the water collects in the grooves but doesn’t drain.

  Beside me, Jax pushes so hard he loses his footing. His hands slip, and he clanks against the handlebar with his chin. His groan lasts for a second before he faceplants into the mud.

  He immediately pushes himself up, Vandal curses hissing over the violent rumble of the torrent. “We have to get inside. This is dangerous.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me behind him. I make it three, maybe four steps before I slip with a yelp. Hip meets dirt harder than concrete, and grit tears on my skin as I slide across the mud.

  Strong arms wrap around my waist, and the world turns upside down. Next thing I know, I dangle from Jax’s shoulder, who carefully stomps toward the house.

  He lowers me onto the grass underneath the ve’ni blossom tree, then leans slightly over and presses his palms against his knees, grinning up. “You look like you fell into the terrorhog pen.”

  “Says the guy with dirt on his tongue.”

  He chuckles low and straightens, the way his eyes rove over me sending a flare of heat between my legs. “I mopped this morning, and you sure as vek won’t walk into the house like this. Neither will I.”

  My breath turns labored, and as much as I want to argue it’s from exhaustion, I know it’s anticipation. Shit, it’s a primal lust and the need for his touch.

  “Guess I’ll have to wash off outside.”

  He watches intensely as I pull my wet cami over my head, and his breathing turns rapid when I strip out of my shorts and panties.

  Jax takes his shirt off and uses the inside to wipe the mud from his face. After he drops it to the ground, he steps out of his boots, and his pants slip to his ankles, mud running down his naked form.