Page 53 of An Alien for the Farm

“I simply do not want to scare you, Little Bird. I want to give you the best parts of me. Always.”

His words tear at my heart, making my gaze and my entire body soften. I shuffle toward him, moving until both my legs close in on either side of his. My feet hit the floor as I sit there at the edge of the bed, naked and with an alien between my thighs—only, not in the position I really want him to be. Though, this will do. For before me is something that’s rock-hard and just seeping for me.

I meet his eyes again and Zynar’s watching me, chin touching his chest as he stares down at me. With the sun no longer shining through the windows, the rain clouds casting gray across the sky, the shadows make him look like something I should be afraid of. Something beautifully tempting but undoubtedly dangerous.

I smile a little to myself. Zynar’s both.

“I want to,” I whisper, running my tongue over my lips. He watches the movement, his cock bobbing before me so forcefully it almost looks painful being constrained. “Let me. I promise I won’t think less of you. I promise I won’t run away.”

He studies me for a long moment before his shoulders sag. I almost jump for joy. Joy I’ve never felt at the thought of having a dick in my face, until now. But Zynar doesn’t release himself. He’s stiff. Still. Unmoving as he watches me. His chest heaves as he continues to look down at me, the slits in his eyes still so blown they almost look convex.

So I make the first move. My shoulders rise, confidence brimming as I take this into my hands.

I start at his hips. Iridescent scales disappear underneath the waist of his trousers. Clasping him lightly by the hips, I try to figure out how to release his trousers. I run my hands there, feeling his taut muscles even as I get a little cheeky and move my hands around to his ass as well. I grip his butt and squeeze. The ultimate power in his hips makes me almost whimper with the thoughts rising in my head.

I close my eyes briefly, forcing myself to focus as I shift my attention back to his trousers. I see it shortly after. A simple clasp released by a button. The moment I press the button, the pants loosen and begin sliding down his thighs, halted only by the still-hidden cock that’s pointing straight at my face. The pants hang there on it like it’s a hook.

Gripping the waist of the trousers, I pause, gaze shifting to him again just to make sure he’s okay with this. He remains unmoving, shoulders tense, his entire body still as he watches me, waiting. I shift my gaze back down, my anticipation building like that thrum that’s starting once more in my core.

Sliding the garment down slowly, my eyes widen with each inch of him that’s revealed. My breath hitches. My throat goes dry.

He’s huge. As the pants fall and he’s revealed, I can’t believe this is the thing I’d grinded on the night before. Pink and purple scales splatter at his base before disappearing into dark, smooth purple skin that covers his entire shaft. He’s ridged, on both the upper and underside. Small frills decorate the upper shaft alternating between raised bumps that form a line straight to his tip. He’s slightly curved and tapered, the opening of his sloped head seeping clear liquid that stretches and dangles from his tip. He’s thicker at the base, the area so thick I’m sure it would feel like a knot. Beneath that, his hanging sac throbs, rising slightly as it tightens at my attention before relaxing again. More precum seeps from his tip.

He’s magnificent. My entire body heats at the thought of him sliding deep inside me. I quiver, a pulse going through my core. But then I still. I still because I suddenly see why Zynar didn’t want me face to face with his dick. And I suddenly realize why, through all this, he’s still standing as if he’s holding his breath.

There are scars. So entranced by the difference of his cock to a human’s, I didn’t even notice them. Not at first. Now I see them everywhere. All over his cock. His lower abdomen. That same area he’d touched absentmindedly while telling me the story of what the Tasqals did to him and his people.

I inhale sharply and scold myself. Fighting to not show a reaction, I don’t respond otherwise immediately. I don’t want him to think it makes any difference in the way I think he looks. As a matter of fact, it does nothing to deter from his beauty. But the scars, they represent wounds that must have been so painful. They crisscross underneath his skin like a lattice. Deep gorges that have left their mark on his skin forever.

A pain develops in my chest. Hatred for the beings that took me from my planet; the same beings that did this to him. It is difficult to control. But I must, because this moment isn’t about them. It’s about him. He needs someone to tell him he’s not any less because of his scars.

He needs me to tell him.

I pull my gaze away from his shaft to look up at him. Those yellow eyes hold mine immediately, searching for any sign of pity or revulsion. I refuse to give him either. Instead, I reach out, my fingers trembling slightly as they hover over the marks. “These…” I whisper, my voice steadying, “are proof of your strength, Zynar. They don’t make you any less beautiful.”

He studies me for a moment longer, his throat moving as if he’s swallowing hard, weighing my words, trying to determine if they’re genuine. It’s only then that his shoulders loosen somewhat. He relaxes a little and his cock bobs in the air before me, demanding my attention.

My gaze shifts back to it. “I would like to touch you now,” I whisper.

“Please, Liora.”

I almost coo.

I start at his base, wrapping both hands around the thick shaft. He jerks in my grasp, a groan emanating through his entire being. He’s so silky smooth under my grasp that I slide both hands from base to tip, something akin to desperate need rising within me again as my hands move over the ridges, frills, and bumps toward his tip. There, his precum rises as if milked and I take some in my palm and use it as lubrication as I move back down his shaft.

Zynar grunts, his claws forming fists at his sides as if he’s trying to keep his hands to himself. Trying to give me space to do what I want without interruption, coercion, or instruction.

I smile, a pulse going straight to my core as I stroke him up and down. He’s so fucking beautiful. I wasn’t even lying when I told him he was. Scars and all, he looks like something I want. No. Something I need.

I scoot closer and massage him some more. There’s hardly an inch between me and his sloped head and the moment I lean in, the tip of my tongue making contact, is the moment everything I knew about want and need shifts into something primal and all-consuming. Zynar’s entire body reacts, a shudder coursing through him at the same time that I pull him into my mouth, a moan vibrating through my throat.

I’m surprised. Shocked. And yet still, I can’t stop. I suck, rolling my tongue over his head as I moan again. I’d intended to lick him, take my time, but the taste of him is like a drug. The scent of him like a recipe for intoxication. My pussy throbs, my clit engorging as I suck and there’s the urge to slide my hands between my legs and work myself off as I work him.

This isn’t…this isn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before. The taste of his pre-cum on my tongue is like orange marmalade that ignites every nerve ending across my spine. Rocket surges go through me, erupting in my lower abdomen, sending little lightning sparks down to my core. I bob my head, trying to get as much of him into my mouth, down my throat, as I can. The urge to simply consume every drop, every inch of him, overtakes me.

My eyes roll back and I look up at him with lowered lids, a thrill going through me at his expression.

He’s snarling, fangs bared, lips pulled back. When my gaze shifts over his chest, down his torso, I catch sight of his claws in my periphery. There’s blood, bright and red like my own. It should alarm me. All it does is ramp up this fever within me. Because Zynar’s clenched his fist so hard to prevent himself from touching me while I do this. He’s giving me space. Allowing me to pull back whenever I want. But, at the same time, he’s experiencing such intense pleasure that his claws extended, digging into his clenched fist.

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