Page 20 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

I don’t believe in that fated mate stuff. But a few short weeks ago, I didn’t believe in telepathic trees, either. Call it fate, call it luck, call it whatever you want. All I know is random chance seems to have placed me with Gog.

That night, we dine under the stars with most of the village. The Drokan often prepare their food en masse, with everyone eating together. Chief Ral’s platter is enormous, almost four feet wide. No way could he eat all that food, though.

Rather, he does not touch a morsel on his plate until every man, woman, and child has eaten. If there is not enough to go around, he sends the platter on rounds through the village until everyone is fed, or it comes back empty. Usually, though, there’s plenty for him to eat at the end of it all.

I could write an entire master’s thesis on their culture. It defies everything we’ve been taught about ‘primitive’ species.

“You have some sauce on your chin,” I say to Gog.

“Oh?”

He wipes at his face, but misses it.

“Did I get it?”

“No.”

Chuckling, I use a cloth to wipe his face clean. My fingers linger against his warm skin. His own hand moves up and closes over it.

“Micah.”

He says my name with such reverence and devotion, it makes my head spin. His eyes flare with desire. Gog is not hiding anything from me now. Not within his gaze at any rate.

“Gog. Do you want to go home now?”

I’m asking if he wants to go back to the hut. Technically. But my tone and my gaze make it clear that there’s a lot more on my mind than that.

“Yes.”

He offers me his hand. I take it, heart beating a mile a minute in my chest. I think this is going to happen. Oh god I hope so.

Gog and I walk through the streets of the village in silence. I don’t think there’s anything else to say right now. Not with words.

We reach the hut and enter. Gog lights crystals, giving the room a bright glow. I reach up and turn them down a little bit dimmer. More intimate, if you will, and I guess I’m self conscious.

Gog turns away from me, presenting his broad back. I’m worried that he’s getting cold feet. But then his belt falls away, followed by the loincloth. He has a damn cute tush. Even his rear end has muscles.

He turns around, fully nude to me for the first time. Gog’s purple eyes burn a hole right through my soul. My gaze drops inexorably down, past the chiseled perfection of his thickly muscled chest, past the hard knots of muscle in his abdomen, and further down still.

The thick pillars of his thighs frame his semi-flaccid member. I see it hardening right in front of my eyes. I swallow the lump in my throat as Gog speaks.

“Are you sure you want this, Micah?”

“Jesus Christ, just grab me or something--”

He crosses the distance between us in a flash. Gog sweeps me up into his embrace and crushes my lips with a kiss. My eyes widen at first, hands reflexively pushing on his chest. But after the surprise wanes, my own passions ignite. My eyes close and I knead his chest, kissing him right back.

Gog kisses me harder, deeper, taking control. I relax in his arms, giving myself over to him fully. His cock brushes against me. My hand darts down as of its own accord and encircles the girth. I feel his pulse throbbing against my fingertips.

His mouth drops to my neck, kissing and licking, animal grunts escaping his throat. I cry out, touching his horns by accident.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “I know I’m not supposed to touch your horns.”

He lifts his mouth from my body. My nerves scream in disappointment. Gog’s lavender eyes are filled with amusement as he speaks.

“Our horns are an erogenous zone. That is why the others laughed when you held onto them all that time ago.”

Then he dives back into mauling my neck, and I grab his horns. He stiffens against me, moaning into my flesh with pleasure.

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