Page 79 of Claimed By the Alien Assassin
His clawed hand cups my other breast, thumb circling my nipple until it stiffens under his touch. Then lower—he moves with terrifying precision. His hand slides down my belly, fingers parting my folds. I’m soaked, and he growls against my skin at the feel.
“You’re ready for me already,” he says, voice shaking with restraint.
“Ineedyou,” I choke out, grinding against his fingers. “Now.”
He doesn’t tease.
Two fingers—thick, hot, careful—slide inside me. I gasp, body pulsing around the stretch. His mouth returns to my breasts, devouring. I’m pinned under him, each movement precise, deliberate, like he’s memorizing every moan I make.
“You feel like lightning,” he murmurs. “Like gravity is pulling me through your core.”
He fucks me slow with his fingers, curling them just right. Every curl brushes that sweet, maddening place inside me. My clit throbs—so sensitive it aches—and when his thumb presses against it, I jolt, legs tightening around his waist.
“Fuck—*Dayn—*I’m gonna?—”
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “Then come for me. Right now.”
I do.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wave slamming iron. My vision goes white. I cry out, bucking against him, pussy clenching around his fingers so hard I swear I see stars. My whole body hums, thighs trembling.
Before I can even recover, he’s tearing away the last of my clothes. Then he strips—fast, silent. His scaled chest gleams with sweat and soot. His cock—thick, curved, ridged along the shaft—stands flushed and ready between us, leaking at the tip.
I swallow hard.
He sees the way I look at it. Athim. His body—so powerful, so utterlyalien—but so familiar now it makes my chest ache.
He presses the head against my entrance and slides it through my slick folds, slow and teasing. I squirm. My body is still shuddering from the first orgasm, already greedy for more.
“Take me,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Tell me you’re mine,” he says, his voice cracking like lightning across open sky.
“I’m yours. Always.”
He thrusts.
I scream. The stretch is everything—sharp, perfect,real.His cock fills me to the brim, every ridge scraping my inner walls in the most delicious way. He goes slow at first, letting me adjust, and then he drives deeper, grinding against my clit as he bottoms out.
“Fuck—Josie—sotight,” he snarls. “You take me like you weremadefor this.”
“Because Iwas.”
He starts moving—deep, brutal thrusts that push me up against the hull, one hand braced behind my head so I don’t slam into metal. His other hand grips my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. His cock stretches me with every stroke, the ridges stroking every nerve inside me raw and alive.
“Harder,” I beg. “Don’t hold back—Dayn,please?—”
He growls, hips slamming into me harder. The slap of skin against skin is obscene in the jungle silence. Every thrust drives the breath from my lungs, every grind of his cock against my clit makes my eyes roll back.
He pins my wrists above my head and fucks me harder. I scream again, broken, and my second orgasm hits fast—blinding, body-breaking. My pussy spasms around him, milking him, soaking us both in my release.
“I can’t—fuck—I can’t stop coming?—”
“That’s right,” he groans, voice ragged. “Give it to me. Give meeverything.”
His movements go ragged. Desperate. He pounds into me, cock twitching deep. Then his whole body locks and heroars,spilling inside me in thick, hot pulses.
We shake. Shudder. Collapse.
