Page 27 of Cherished By the Alien Outlaw

“Turn, and I’ll wash your hair,” he said gruffly, keeping his voice low so we wouldn’t be overheard. What would the lizards in other cells think if they could see us bathing? What would Brax think if he looked this way? I had to assume his night vision was at least as good as mine, that he was awake, sitting on his bunk, trying to see what we were doing—if anything.

Until loud snores rang out in harmony.

“Brax and his roommate.” Firion’s tusky smile flashed, disappearing too soon. “I heard their snores last night.” I wanted to see him smiling all the time, to feel the warmth of it on my skin, followed up with his touch.

Did we have a future together?

I hoped we’d live long enough to find out.

He tipped his head back and shoved his hair off his face, sending me a smile that made mine rise to match. When his grew, it revealed his tusks. I reached out tentatively to touch them, curious about their texture. He tensed slightly before relaxing back against the side ofthe tub, allowing me access. They were rough and smooth, and surprisingly warm.

Rising to my knees, I cupped his cheeks, savoring the feel of the coarse bristles beneath my fingers. I realized my hands no longer hurt, and when I lifted them and squinted, I couldn’t see the sores that had throbbed while we ate.

He took one of my hands and gently ran his fingertip across the palm. “Healed. This is the work of the stone god.”

Healing water seemed beyond the ability of a god residing within a rock wall, but what other explanation could there be?

“I’ll wash your hair.” He held up the soap.

I eased forward and turned, laying myself against his raised knees. He helped me tip my head back and supported me while he wet my hair.

Then he lathered it, and I wasn’t sure anything could feel more amazing than his strong fingers gently kneading my scalp or the way he worked the soap through the strands, making sure all my hair ended up squeaky clean.

I closed my eyes and let out a contented sigh. Though I doubted this was his intention, his touch was surprisingly sensual. It felt like the caress of a lover, someone who cared for me above all others.

He rinsed my hair until none of the soap remained, then lathered his hands again. “Can I wash more?”

Oh, yes, please. I nodded, but worried he wouldn’tsee that in the dark, spoke. “Yes. I’m sore. Tired. I appreciate the help.”

His low laugh rang out. “I’m more than happy to wash my mate’s body. You tell me if I’m washing . . . too much.”

“You can wash all of me.” My words came out prim and proper, but they were anything but. I was lost in his touch already, and his fingers hadn’t left my head.

His hands moved methodically down my back, massaging knots and tension from my muscles. I leaned my side against him, the warmth of his body embracing mine. For a moment, I forgot about our captors, about the dangers lurking beyond our cell door. All that existed was Firion and me, connected by touch and emotion.

His hands glided down my body, teasingly soft against my skin. He knelt in front of me, his strength and nearness sending shivers skating across my soul. “Tell me if I go too far,” he whispered, the breath of his rough voice warm against my cheek.

“Never,” I vowed, lost in this moment already. Knowing no one would see because of the dark and the shielding of the side of the tub was enough to let me relax and take what I could from this moment.

As he washed my arms, he traced patterns with his fingertips that made me quiver with delight. Sitting, he lifted my legs, one after the other, massaging the tensed muscles all the way to my toes until they relaxed and stopped aching from my efforts today.

I couldn’t speak, and I didn’t want him to stop.

With his eyes locked on mine, he moved to my chest,the rough pads of his fingers circling the soft skin encasing my heart. He teased my nipples, rubbing them between his thumbs and forefingers until they hardened. After rinsing them, he slid beneath the water, his lips brushing against first one sensitive peak, then the other.

Fireworks exploded behind my eyes as he sucked on my nipple, sending shockwaves of heat coursing through my body. I clung to his head and arched into him, needing more of his touch, more of whatever he could give me. He rose enough to take a quick breath before dropping his head once more. While he sucked on my nipples, his hands roved lower, skimming over my stomach and around to my hips, massaging like he had my legs. He worked my spine while his tongue flicked across one nipple after the other.

His head lifted, his hair dripping as he watched my face, his reverent and full of desire.

When he parted my thighs, I spread them around him, giving him access to do whatever he pleased. No, what would also please me.

I was a live wire, coiling through the air, and every bit of my mind remained focused on his wonderful fingers that slid between my legs.

He found my clit and rolled it.

And when his gaze sought mine, he watched me as he slipped a finger inside me.

Hot waves washed over me, leaving me breathless. I gripped his shoulders, unable to form words as he teased and explored, his finger moving slowly at first before plunging into me.

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