Page 7 of Master
Did aliens kiss?
My mind raced over the last few days and despite the extreme levels of debauchery I’d witnessed both on film and in person, there hadn’t been kissing.
I might have to fuck this guy to survive, but I didn’t have to kiss him. Kissing was special, intimate, that precious moment when two people allowed themselves to explore the promise ofsomething between them. Even now, after all this time, I could feel the tentative, nervous touch of Curtis’ lips against mine the first time we’d kissed. I wouldn’t taint that memory.
I debated asking Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hot as hell if he kissed, but feared bringing up the subject might make him want to. No, I’d just avoid his attempts and claim to have some human disease communicable by saliva.
The same went for asking his name. Somehow, knowing his name would make it personal between us. I needed to avoid that. I needed to keep it clinical—like a gynecologist's visit. This was a business transaction. He had the cash. I provided the service.
I could do this.
The golden orbs studied me. In a movement so slow his fingers trembled, he raised his hand and buried his fingers in the strands of hair near my cheek. On Earth, I’d always blown my wavy tresses straight. Aliens didn’t believe in blow dryers. The shower was a one stop, do it all with a blast of warm air following lather, rinse, and repeat.
“So small and soft.” He whispered, his voice gruff and throaty. His fingertips left my hair to trail along my cheek. “So beautiful.”
Flame flickered low in my belly. I tried to ignore it.
In a movement so graceful it drew a gasp from my lips, the alien shifted onto his knees. My legs were slightly parted, but he made no move to intrude. Instead, his warm, callused fingers traced over my face, neck, and shoulders.
Not going to lie, his touch felt wonderful. Better than I wanted it to. How the hell was I supposed to keep things clinicaland business like with these little sparks of electricity traveling all over my body?
It’s just because I haven’t had sex in a long time.
A really long time.
The last couple of years of Curtis’ illness, a simple kiss was enough to exhaust him. After he died… it just seemed like a betrayal despite the numerous times my friend Agnes tried to set me up. I told my loins to behave themselves and made myself smile at him.
He leaned forward, tilting his face toward the curve of my neck. Despite the tingle of anticipation, worried imaginings crept into play. One species mentioned during my training were the Urapira. While they didn’t have the same habits as Earth’s version of vampires, they did like to bite and taste blood during sex.
Well, at least I got the one that favored Edward Cullen more than Nosferatu.
His face moved closer to my skin, and I tensed, waiting for the pain of a bite.
Large warm palms settled over my shoulders, and I felt the tip of his nose touch the sensitive skin.
He inhaled.
A slow, deep breath that made strands of my hair flutter against my skin. When his breath released, it did so in the form of a heavy sigh with the faintest groan of pleasure at the end, as though my scent was delicious to him.
Damn.
Now that was sexy.
I turned my head, our faces just inches apart. His gold eyes burned like twin suns, but the fingertips stroking my cheek and neck were feathers. I let myself draw in a breath, his spicy, musky scent flooding my senses. He must be giving off pheromones like crazy… any resistance left in me evaporated.
“Are you sure, little one?” He asked again in a husky tone.
Part of me wanted to screamno. Yet in that moment, a baser part of me surged forth. A part that, for this moment in time, wanted more.
“Yes,” I whispered, my throat parched with anticipation. “I’m sure.”
A smile quirked his lips as callused fingers moved with a practiced slowness, gently slipping the straps from my shoulders. I had prepared myself for an awkward and fumbling encounter. In reality, his every move treated me as if I were fragile and delicate. His every touch was careful and deliberate, giving the impression that he was handling something precious and rare.
The pink lace thing fell to my waist, exposing my breasts. It wasn’t cool in the room. In fact, the temperature seemed just south of a sauna, but gooseflesh rippled across my exposed skin. Having male eyes on me was nothing new, but his golden gaze roamed over my flesh slowly with reverence, the cadence of his breath quickening.
“So beautiful,” the deep husky voice said, warm breath tickling the curve of my neck.
His hands remained on my shoulders, lips still inches from my neck, and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
