Page 45 of Grumpy Alien Boss

I can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and giddy. “You’re insane.”

“And yet, you love it,” he replies, kneeling down in front of me.

His lips meet mine in a deep, possessive kiss. The angle is strange, upside down, but it’s thrilling in a way I can’t quite describe. His tongue invades my mouth, and I moan into the kiss, my body trembling with need. The heat from the candle inside me is intoxicating, and I can feel the wax beginning to melt, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

“Dar,” I whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“You’ll get what I give you,” he says, pulling back slightly. His red eyes bore into mine, and I can see the hunger in them. “And right now, I’m giving you this.”

He starts to move the candle again, the slow, deliberate thrusts driving me wild. The heat from the flame licks at my thighs, wax dripping down, cooling as it touches my skin. The contrast between the heat and the coolness is maddening, and I writhe in my bonds, desperate for more.

“Please,” I beg, my voice breaking. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he says, his voice firm. “And you will.”

His words send a thrill through me, and I moan as he continues to fuck me with the candle. The restraints make every sensation more intense, and I can feel myself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. But Dar is in control, and I know he won’t let me come until he’s ready.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his lips brushing against mine. “And I’ll take you however I want.”

I nod, unable to speak, my body trembling with need. The candle moves inside me, the heat and the wax driving me closer and closer to the edge. And then, finally, he gives me the command I’ve been waiting for.

“Come.”

The word is like a trigger, and my body obeys instantly. The orgasm crashes over me, and I cry out, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. Dar holds me steady, his hands firm on my hips as I ride out the intense sensations.

When it’s over, I’m left panting, my body limp in the restraints. Dar pulls the candle out of me, and I feel the cool air against my sensitive flesh. He leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, almost tender kiss.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.

The ropes creak as Dar lowers me from the ceiling, my body swaying gently like a pendulum. My skin tingles where the restraints had bitten in, the sensation mixed with the lingering heat of the wax. I twist my wrists experimentally, testing the give, but the knots are as unyielding as Dar himself.

"Untie me, you overgrown lizard," I say, wriggling for effect. My voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge of need beneath it. I’m desperate to feel his hands on me again, even if it’s just to free me.

Instead of untying me, I feel his palm connect with my ass in a sharp, stinging slap. I yelp, more from surprise than pain, and hear his low, rumbling chuckle.

"Still mouthy, I see," he says, his voice thick with amusement. "Guess I’ll have to do something about that."

Before I can retort, I feel something cold and rubbery pressed against my lips. A ball gag. I open my mouth to protest, but he slides it in before I can get a word out. The leather straps dig into the corners of my mouth as he fastens it behind my head. I feel the click of a padlock, and my heart skips a beat.

"This isn’t exactly what I meant by ‘untie me,’" I mumble around the gag, my words muffled but still coherent enough to sass him.

"Talking back, even when gagged. Impressive," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I hear the rustle of fabric and feel a blindfold being tied over my eyes. The world goes dark, and suddenly, every other sense feels heightened. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin—spice and something alien I can’t quite place—fills my awareness.

"Now," he says, his voice close, making me shiver, "it’s your turn. Make me come."

I tilt my head, trying to convey my confusion and skepticism through the gag. I can’t use my arms, my mouth, or my eyes. What exactly does he expect me to do? Telekinesis?

"Isn’t making it hard literally my job?" I try to say, though it comes out as a garbled mess. I’m sure he gets the gist, though, because I hear his low, rumbling laugh.

"Improvise," he says simply.

Alright, challenge accepted. I can’t see him, but I can feel him. His body heat radiates through the room, and I move toward it, guided by instinct. My rope-bound arms are useless, but my body isn’t. I press my chest against him, feeling the hard plane of his scaled torso. I can feel his cock, hot and throbbing, against my abdomen. I rub my breasts against him, the rough rope adding an extra layer of sensation.

"You’re trying," he says, his voice strained. "But you’re going to have to do better than that."

I step back, frustrated but determined. I hear him shift, and then his voice comes from lower—he’s sitting on the floor. His hands guide my hips, positioning me over him. I lower myself slowly, feeling the thick, scaled length of him press against my entrance. I sink down, gasping around the gag as I take him inside me.

I start to move, my hips grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles. His growl of approval sends a thrill through me, and I pick up the pace, riding him with all the ferocity I can muster. His hands grip my hips, guiding me, encouraging me.

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