Page 45 of An Alien for the Future

And I am weak.

Desperate for more of a touch I didn’t know I’d been yearning for so badly.

I answer by pulling him in for another kiss, my hands, which should be pushing him away, find their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

This time, there’s no hesitation. Tovan meets me halfway, his lips crashing against mine with a hunger that almost startles. His claws roam my body as if he knows this is just a moment’s lapse in my judgment, one chance before I push him away again. He’s hungry, starved even, and I can feel the intensity of his desire in every touch—in a way I’ve never felt from anyone, any other man, before.

Tovan is…consuming.

When his claws slide up my sides, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts, I jerk with the jolt of pleasure it sends through me. I arch into his touch, a silent plea for more, one I’m too scared to put into words.

With a growl, those claws move to cup my breasts, fingers kneading the soft flesh as if it were a ground he’s desperate to claim. Through my dress, I can feel the pressure of his touch and it’s not enough. I want more. I want the barrier gone, even though that would mean opening up myself some more.

Tovan grunts against me, shudders more like, as he slowly breaks our kiss. Both of our chests heaving, he meets my gaze before his eyes drop to my chest where his claws are still pressed against me there. His throat moves, probably a silent plea in itself, one that’s screaming at the fever pitch of my own need growing within me.

Because my doubts are quickly fading away. In their place is a simple, powerful thought:

Fuck it.

Life is short. Unpredictable. How many chances do we get for moments like this? How many chances haveIgotten? How many more will I get out here on a world that’s not my own?

Without another thought, without letting fear take hold, I reach up, my fingers gripping the neckline of my tunic. It’s one of those stretchy ones the Initiative provided, thankfully designed to accommodate a variety of human body types. I tug it down over my shoulders, the soft fabric whispering against my skin as it shifts down my arms, revealing my neck, my shoulders, and the rise of my breasts. For a heartbeat, I freeze, exposed, the cool air a shock against my heated flesh. Shame, hot and fast, threatens to overwhelm me.

I’m not twenty-two anymore. My body has changed. I—

It’s Tovan’s low rumbling growl that erases every thought in my head. His focus holds me captive.

His claws, still resting against my breasts, tighten. It’s such a possessive gesture that sends a shiver of both fear and anticipation down my spine.

Gently, he shifts his claws to hook into the neckline of my dress, tugging it the rest of the way down my chest, exposing me fully to his gaze.

“Frakk,” he mutters.

His eyes, already dark with desire, turn molten as he takes in the sight of me. I swallow past the slight lump in my throat, my body too hot, too needy. I should say something. I should stop this. I should—

But Tovan suddenly leans down, capturing one taut peak in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. I gasp, my body jostling in his grip where he still has me pressed up against the door.

I don’t know what I expected. But I know I never expected it to feel this good.

“Oh,” I moan, my hands moving to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as waves of pleasure wash over me. He growls against my skin, the vibration sending another shock of electricity straight to my core.

There’s a rumble in his throat, one that momentarily deafens the screech of the wind just outside my door as he moves to lavish the same attention on my other breast.

“Tovan,” I breathe. That’s all I can say. The sensation, the pleasure, I feel myself moisten and drip. With the heat of those lips he’s sent me past my last boundary.

Tovan sucks, tongue swirling, while his claws slide down to grip my hips. They sink into my flesh again, his touch possessive, hungry. He’s not gentle, but I know he’s trying to be. I can feel the restraint in his touch, the delicate balance between his strength and his desire not to hurt me. I can feel the hard length of him pressed against me, too, only the thin fabric of his pants and my dress separating us. I grind against him, seeking friction, seeking more and he groans, a deep, guttural sound as he lifts me again, pulling me off the door.

We stumble further into the cottage, neither of us willing to break the contact between us. I’m dimly aware of the fact that his lips are leaving my nipple, traveling across my skin as he heads up to my collarbone, my neck, my throat.

When they meet mine again, I lose sense of time and space.

Dimly, I can still hear the wind outside. Still hear the storm raging. But it’s drowned out by the heavy beats of my heart. Of the rumbling sounds coming from the male against me as he pulls down what’s left of my tunic just as we reach my bedside. Those hungry claws rove over me again, stopping at my panties as he does an almost comical pause in his movements. He’s never encountered panties before, that’s clear, but his pause is momentary. In the next second, he strips them too.

Tovan sets me down but doesn’t release me. His claws are notched into the flesh at my hips, kneading as his gaze swallows me whole.

“Lira’an,” he rasps, voice low, so gravelly it’s hard to hear the actual words. “You’re perfect. So soft. So frakking beautiful.”

Oh, to be praised. Where I would usually brush off such words and get on with my day, Tovan’s make me tremble. Maybe it’s the way he’s staring down at me, those golden eyes swirling with hunger. No one has ever looked at me like that. Not even those who claimed they loved me before.

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