Page 90 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

“All you have to do right now is kiss me,” I breathed out.

He didn’t wait for me to ask him twice. Taking my face in his large hands, he claimed my mouth with his.

I grabbed the belt of his pants, drawing him closer.

“I love you,” he purred between kisses. “I love you so much, my flower.”

I slid my hands up his chest, then sank my fingers into the fur above his neckline.

“Take this off.” I tugged at his shirt. “It’s about time I got to see you naked, Professor.”

Breath caught in his throat, then rasped out with a low growl. He tore at the shirt, ripping it off over his head.

“Mmm,” I moaned, burying my face in the thick fur on his chest.

His warm, spicy scent enveloped me. Thick and long on his chest, his fur tapered to a thin trail crossing his abdomen graced with hard squares of muscles. I followed the trail with my fingers all the way down to the belt of his pants.

“These will have to come off, too.” I looked up, batting my eyelashes at him.

His heart pounded under my hand splayed on his chest. But he didn’t make a move.

“Do you want me, Kear?”

“More than anything in the Universe. You have no idea, Maya. I’ve been dreaming about you—”

“In the sex pods?”

“No.” He exhaled a bitter laugh. “I haven’t been to the spa in ages.”

“Why not?”

“All a pod can give me is a poor imitation of you. But I want the real thing.”

His words gripped me, making me weak in the knees. I staggered, and he grabbed my waist, steadying me.

“Not to say that I didn’t daydream about being with you. Constantly.” He grinned. “In every hot detail. To the point that both my hands are sore now.”

I burst with laughter, twirling a finger in his fur. “Well. We’ll take it easy on your hands tonight, then.”

He moved his arms around me. “This needs to go off, too. That would be only fair, don’t you think?”

His fingers made the familiar tap-dance down my spine, opening my dress. I let him slide it off my shoulders.

“This, too,” he murmured, tugging at the band of my bra. He fumbled with its closure, releasing a frustrated huff. “What a devious contraption.”

“It’s scientist-proofed,” I teased, but then took pity on him and flicked it open. “Your IQ is clearly too high to master it.”

“Smartass,” he laughed, but the sound stuck in his throat the moment I slid the straps off my shoulders. “Fuck.” He drew me to him with an arm around my middle.

His other hand hovered over my breast. Slowly, reverently, he finally cupped it, giving it a slight squeeze.

“I don’t understand men’s fascination with breasts,” I said. “You just saw them being used for their intended purpose—feeding a baby.”

“As with many great things, your breasts have more than one purpose. And right now, their main one is to drive me mad with desire.”

He lifted me in his arms until my chest was at his face level.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, giving each breast a tender kiss.

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