Page 69 of The Commander

Alone, Cara didn’t hide her silly giggle. It was too funny, really. Brenda had spent a lot of time talking about sex, and none of it sounded half as fun or as good as what Cara had done with Bastian. Her friend could think whatever she wanted. Cara had the better boyfriend.

Only theboyfriendtitle didn’t fit the masculine, dark eyed monster. It was a good thing Cara’s dad wasn’t alive.“Hey dad, I was out setting traps for food, you know, to help me and some other people survive after this alien invasion. And I met one! When can he come over?”

Maybe Cara was past falling. She’d fallen. That was the only way in this hellscape of a life that Commander Bastian could be cute when he was telling her he was going to handle his men—probably murder them with their own organs—but he didn’t want her to watch.

She didn’t want to watch that either. She wasn’t that type. She hated those red hats. They all deserved to die for their crimes, but the sights and sounds of the slaughterhouse had never appealed to her.

Bastian took her back to the apartment, slowing his steps to match hers, a hand on her back. She reached over and grabbed his big one, showing him how to hold hands. He looked down and blinked. Mouth slanted down, eye ridges slanted up, he wore a perplexed expression. There was no knowing for sure what his facial features translated to. He didn’t let go as they walked the rest of the way across the old human cul-de-sac to where he lived on the other side.

“You’ll stay put, Kitten.” He bent over her, acting stern and mean. What had his computer called him?

“Yeah, sure. Dude.”

He winced. His expression softened; the effect ruined. “Don’t.”

“What?” she rolled her eyes to the side in innocence.

“I’ll be happy to discipline you, Kitten. I can’t do anything to the P.I. Perhaps, when our future is settled, I will take out all my frustration with that irritating device on your pretty little bottom.” He tapped her lips with a too long finger.

Why was it so sexy when he called her ass a ‘pretty little bottom’ in that growly purr voice? He’d spanked her a little before. It had stung like a motherfucker. Not an experience she wanted to repeat.

Then it shouldn’t make her hot. Not in any way. Yet it did. Embarrassingly so. His threat pulled on a string inside her middle that spilled heat down to her center, a direct call line to her crazy talking pussy. The thing was tireless.

Cara had woken up stiff and sore after that last nap. Her thighs, lower back, and arms hurt so much that it had taken a moment to stand. She knew it was just from all thenewtypes of exercise. That pain eased a little as she moved. Other parts weren’t so lucky. She should ask for a cream or something. Her girl parts should know better than to give this man any reason to discipline her. “I’m a bit sore. Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Are you? Then you don’t want to become more sore.”

He sounded too pleased by the prospect. “Don’t you have some other things to discipline now? You can exercise some of that frustration on them.”

His eyes slit. “Yes. I plan to.”

He picked her up and bumped the flat of his nose against hers before licking across her lips with his tongue.

“Eww, what was that?”

“A French kiss.”

“No. No, it’s not.”

“Then show me.”

Tentatively, she touched her lips to his. His breath whispered across her mouth in invitation.

“Open, just a little,” she instructed. She’d never done this before, not really. If he’d kissed her already, she didn’t remember it.

The few encounters she’d had in Springfield, at Brenda’s encouragement, didn’t count. She’d always lost her nerve, her fear of getting pregnant overriding the short bursts of drunken courage.

Everything was different with him. He was different. This was an awful world, and he was an awful creature, but of all the things she had feared in life, getting pregnant was suddenly no longer one of them. Intimacy was no longer one of them.

She wouldn’t lose her courage now.

Eyes fluttering shut, she parted her lips, relishing the intimacy as their mouths moved together. She slipped her tongue forward, seeking his.

A shudder rippled through him at her touch. He was such a massive, indestructible creature, but the soft brush of her tongue across the tip of his cock made himshake.

Taking over, his fingers dug into Cara’s short hair, tilting her head as he deepened the contact, his tongue seeking hers, delving deep. He tasted as he smelled, of things she couldn’t name, spicy, warm, and mouthwatering.

She arched into him, trying to get as close as she could. A whimper escaped her as she felt the proof of his desire pressing urgently against her abdomen. She wrapped her legs around his torsoas far as she could, her body remembering how he’d carried her on the way back from the forest.

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