Page 17 of Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster

“I’m going to make you come all over my hand,” he growled.

Isabella didn’t know if he was making a request or a demand, but her answer was the same. “Yes.”

“Lean back against the dash and keep your knees spread,” he ordered.

Isabella whimpered her agreement, leaning back as he’d instructed, placing her bent knees on either side of him. He was powerful. Virile. In complete control. An alpha male, big, dominant, and used to getting what he wanted. She shivered with desire. He had that special quality, that ultra-masculine presence. She loved it. Wanted to give him everything. Wanted him to take it.

Falden traced the small slip of lacy material covering her beneath the skirt, shoving the slight bit of fabric aside when she squirmed, pushing toward his hand. He pushed two fingers deep, settled his thumb over her clit and worked her until she threw her head back, bumping the car window with her wild response. Even that didn’t deter her from moving against him. “More. God, Falden. Please. More.”

Falden kissed her. Worked his fingers deeper. Harder. Faster. His head spun, but he wasn’t sure if it was from lust or blood loss, and he didn’t care, his entire being focused on the hot, tight sheath wrapped around his fingers.

Leaning over, he reclaimed her mouth as he worked her body, brought her to the brink. Made her wait. Made her whimper. Beg. Started the process again, bringing her to the peak only to watch her body shudder and her eyes glaze before pulling back.

In this moment her body was his. Her will, his. Her pleasure, his. He’d fought hundreds, perhaps thousands of battles, and he’d never felt so powerful. So wicked. Isabella brought out a side of his soul he’d never known existed. And the dominant, commanding predator enjoyed teasing her. Hearing her gasp. Moan. Feeling her move against his hand in a desperate attempt to find release he had not yet chosen to give her.

“Do you want to come?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Say my name.”

“Falden,” she gasped.

Her reward was a deep thrust with his fingers and pressure on her clit. Just for a moment. She groaned, her lips pressed to his.

“Falden.”

Again he rewarded her with one thrust of his fingers. Soon enough she would learn what he wanted; to hear his name in an incoherent chant from the desperate lips of a woman who didn’t just want him—whoneededhim to touch her. To claim her. To make her his.

Isabella couldn’t hold back. Her orgasm caused the inner walls of her pussy to ripple and clamp down on his fingers like a vise, imagining it was his cock inside her, milking him of his seed as he marked her with his possession and his scent, as he gave her everything he had to give of himself.

She cried out, the sound not quite a scream as she bucked, then arched, finally settling into his lap in a series of gasps and shudders as the aftershocks rocked the spasming muscles of her core.

“Oh my God.”

“That is not my name.”

Her soft laughter was breathy, barely there, but the slumberous, satisfied haze in her eyes when she looked up at him was worth every ounce of pain the wound in his back was causing him. He’d suffer a thousand agonies to see that look again. Die happy.

“Your turn, Falden.” Curling into herself, she wrapped her arms around him, tried to use his shoulders as leverage to move.

A small grunt of pain escaped him when her hand roamed a little too low on his injured back. He cursed himself the fool for making any sound, as he was very interested in what she had planned, his balls already drawing up tight against his body in anticipation.

“Falden?” The soft, satisfied look in her eyes was gone in an instant, replaced by the sharp-witted reporter he’d first met in the bar. He wanted his lover back, not the investigator.

“Oh crap, you're hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” Pulling her hand out from behind him, she held her palm before her face and let out a string of words he’d only recently learned upon coming to Earth.

His lips twitched with amusement at her colorful use of them. He closed his eyes in defeat, his sigh long and drawn out. He’d never get her back on track now, and his very hard cock was going to pay the price. “I have had worse. I will heal as soon as I get the proper”—he hesitated in his word choice— “medication.”

Crawling back into her seat, she shoved at him to lean forward so she could inspect his back. “Let me see it.”

Obedient, mostly because he suddenly didn’t have the strength to argue, he allowed her to pull him forward so that she could look her fill.

“Oh shit. He shot you. You’ve been shot.”

“I know.”

“You know? You know!” Frantic now, she scrambled to find a first-aid kit, checking the glove compartment, under the seat, everywhere. “There’s nothing in here to stop the bleeding. Shit. Why don’t you have anything in this car?”

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