Page 101 of Rok's Captive
I hesitate, torn between embarrassment and an unexpected wave of tenderness. He’s not what I expected when I first saw him—this fierce, golden predator. He’s thoughtful. Considerate. Protective.
When’s the last time a man sacrificed his comfort for mine? Made sure I had water, food, safety? Carried me when I couldn’t go on?
The answer comes quickly: never.
Something shifts inside me, a decision forming before I’m fully aware of it. Why not? Why cling to prudishness on a planet where I might die tomorrow? Why deny both of us something we clearly want?
I rise to my feet, and Rok’s head snaps up at the movement. Even in the dim light, I can see him trying to straighten, to hide his state, to compose himself despite the obvious pain. His hand moves away from his groin, and he tries to adjust the loincloth to hide his predicament.
My heart cracks a little at the gesture. He’s embarrassed—trying to spare me discomfort even while suffering himself.
“I thought you were a wild thing when I first saw you,” I say softly, moving toward him with more confidence than I feel. “But you’re more thoughtful than most men I knew back on Earth.”
His head tilts slightly. That gesture I’ve come to recognize as confusion. Of course, he doesn’t understand my words, but something in my tone or expression must communicate my meaning because his posture relaxes slightly.
The way he’s looking at me now makes my breath catch. His eyes roam over me with naked hunger. As if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, despite my torn clothes, dust-caked hair, and sunburned skin.
No one has ever looked at me like that. Like I’m precious. Like I’m perfect exactly as I am.
I reach him and lower myself to my knees between his outstretched legs. He stiffens, a low growl in his throat.
“Let me help you,” I say, a bit surprised my voice is actually steady. “It’s okay.”
I reach for the loincloth, and he tenses but doesn’t stop me as I unwrap it, revealing his fully erect cock. Fuck. It’s even more impressive up close—long and thick, the skin a slightly darker shade of that amber-gold, with that broader head that makes my mouth water.
I hesitate, suddenly nervous despite my bravado. What if his anatomy works differently? What if I hurt him somehow? What if?—
His hand comes up to touch my face, so gently it’s barely a whisper against my skin. There’s no recognition of my intent in his eyes—just concern mixed with his own barely contained need. He’s checking if I’m alright, even now.
“You have no idea what I’m about to do…do you.”
His slightly furrowed brow makes a soft chuckle leave my lips. He tilts his head, his hand brushing against my jaw more firmly now.
With only a moment’s further hesitation, I wrap my hand around his length. His reaction is immediate and dramatic—he hisses through his teeth, his head falling back against the cave wall, his entire body going taut like a bowstring.
It’s the reaction of someone experiencing a completely new sensation. The realization hits me like a thunderbolt: he’s never been touched like this before. This might be his first sexual experience of any kind. I don’t know why that makes a pleased laugh brush through my nose.
With the cold that seeps in the night, he’s hot—right now warmer than human body temperature—and harder than seems possible, yet the skin is velvet-soft. Perfect, my mind supplies. He’s absolutely perfect.
I stroke him slowly, marveling at how my hand barely wraps around his girth. He responds with a full-body shudder, his hips jerking involuntarily, a sound escaping him that’s half shock, half pleasure.
And then I can’t help myself—I imagine how he would feel inside me, stretching me, filling me completely. The thought alone makes me clench with want.
Rok’s reaction is immediate and startling. His cock pulses in my hand, and a bead of clear fluid forms at the tip—slightly golden, catching the faint light. He makes a sound that’s half growl, half moan, his eyes locked on mine with such intensity a delicious shiver goes down my spine.
It’s as if he knew what I was thinking. As if he could read my mind, see those dirty things I’m thinking about, and react to it. Which…isn’t impossible.
That should probably concern me more than it does, but I’m too far gone to care. Encouraged by his response, I lean forward and, before I can second-guess myself, take him into my mouth.
His entire body jerks in shock, a strangled sound escaping him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a roar. His hands clutch at the stone floor beside him, claws scraping against rock as if he’s desperately trying to anchor himself.
The taste hits me immediately—sweet and rich, like warm honey. Nothing like a human man. It’s delicious, addictive, and I find myself wanting more.
I glance up to find him staring at me with an expression of absolute wonder, as if I’m performing some kind of miracle. It dawns on me that even though he licked me, this,medoing this tohim, might be completely foreign to his species. The thought sends a thrill through me—I’m introducing him to oral sex. I’m his first.
I take him deeper, working him with my hand and mouth together, finding a rhythm that has him panting and trembling beneath me. His restraint is impressive—he’s holding himself back, his hands still pressed flat against the stone rather than touching me, his hips rigid as if he’s afraid to move.
“You can touch me,” I murmur, pulling back just long enough to say the words before taking him in again.
