Page 18 of The Alien's Major Dilemma

His fingers brushed over her cheeks again and down her neck to her pulse. She felt it fluttering against his thumb, the tip of his claw pressed lightly into the skin beside her neck. He moved it back and forth, gently drawing circles around the delicate flesh, and parts of her body suddenly ached with need.

“How are you doing that?” she asked.

“What am I doing?”

“You’re making me feel things. Is that part of the psychokinetic thing you were talking about? Can you force my body to respond a certain way?” Her voice was breathy and soft and Marissa swallowed to try to reign in her response to his touch.

“I can’t make you feel anything,” he said. “I can feel what you feel, your emotions, hunger, fear, desire. You might be able to feel mine if you try but I can’t change you or your responses.”

“So this is all me?”

“I’m afraid so,” he chuckled. “Scared?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Every day.”

He leaned toward her and pressed his nose against her hair. His deep inhale told her he was sniffing her and she wanted to protest but couldn’t. She loved the way he smelled and hated that she had to push him away soon.

His exhale sent a gust of gentle air over the shell of her ear and she shivered.

“Do you mind?” he whispered against her ear. “You smell so good.”

She shook her head because she didn’t trust her voice to answer him.

His cheek rubbed gently against hers and he buried his nose against her on the opposite side from where his thumb continued to drive her crazy. The feel of his breath over her delicate skin made her tremble and she could swear she felt his lips curve against her.

“Can I taste you here?” he asked, and pressed his lips against her collarbone.

“Why?” she asked.

“I smell better with my tongue,” he said, his voice a breathy growl. “And I find myself desperate to know everything about you. Let me taste you.”

Marissa swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

His tongue flicked out, quick and soft, and she could only feel where he had left a damp spot when a gentle gust of breath blew over it.

Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

He came back and licked her again; slow, soft, sensual flicks of his tongue against her pulse had her trembling against him. She didn’t realize she’d wrapped her arms around his head until he chuckled against her. “Good girl,” he said.

Pleasure streaked through her at his words and her head snapped back into the divider.

“Ow, fuck,” she said, reaching back to rub where she’d hit. His hand beat hers there and he stroked gently over the tender part of her scalp.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he said.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that.”

“I think it’s almost unavoidable at this point,” he said. “We don’t have to but I need to know if your lips taste as soft as they look. Your skin was better than anything I’ve ever imagined.”

“Have you ever kissed someone before?”

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