Page 104 of Invasive Species
He fists his hand deeper in my hair, pulling me even closer so we share the superheated oxygen of each other’s panting breaths, his mint and fresh and zinging through me. A surge of strength tingles through me, radiating from where he touches me.
He breaks off, fingers stroking through my tangled wet locks. “You need my knot, yes, but with so much to do and so little time left, I… I don’t know where to start.”
I grin at him, my cheeks aching with even that small effort. “It’s okay, let’s make a list.”
“Oh, Arra-bellah.” He kisses me again, hands roving over my body, scales flickering verdant greens and ochre reds. When he pulls back, his eyes sharp, assessing. “First, I need to relax you, make you pliant in my arms.” His head tilts, looking me critically in the eyes. “Two orgasms ought to do it.”
I laugh, or try to, the chuckle more of a cough.
His lips twitch. “Second, I’ll enter you with my forecock to prepare you for my knotting cock. Its girth will ease you open further, and I’ll aim for a third orgasm to make sure.”
Nodding is all I can do, smiling so he knows I’m totally on board with this checklist.
“Finally, I will… knot you.” He lets out a low breath. “If it will fit.”
“What do you mean? We made it work before.”
He shakes his head. “I need to come up with alternate arrangements in case?—”
“Or, we can try it. Come here, you.” I pull his head to mine but he gently resists, lips lowering to my neck and collarbone, trailing toward my nipple. It leaps to attention as soon as he nears it, skin puckering.
His tongue flicks across my left nipple, large fingers rolling the right, and I arch my back to deliver my breasts into his hand. I give myself over to him, my heart beating a slow pound against my ribcage as pleasure lights up my nerves. His tongue flickers around my nipple, fast, wet, gone again, teasing.
“Gara,” I pant. “What comes first on the list again?”
“You do,” he murmurs against my breast, fingers of his other hand sliding down my stomach. I part my legs for him, and his fingertips stroke the wet curls on my pussy, tantalizingly close to my slit.
His tongue blazes a trail to my other nipple, stoking the fire in my core. Water from the pool gleams on his scales, magnifying the lime and harlequin colors to reflect on my pale skin.
Gara moves down, the warmth from his body covering mine replaced with the cooling breath of a breeze. But not for long; taking each thigh in his big, gentle hands, he eases my legs wider to admit his bulky shoulders, staring into my depths as he does so. Gara can look detached while he's studying something, but I see the feverish light in his eyes, see how close he is to losing his iron-willed control.
He glances up at me. “I'm going to administer the first orgasm now,” he says, and sexier words have never been spoken.
“Whatever that means, I'm in,” I reassure him.
He licks his lips, guiding my legs onto his shoulders to rest my heels on his broad back. I can't close my legs; I'm pinned,exposed to him and his hot mouth, open and trembling for whatever he chooses to do with me.
He passes his lips through my wet curls, my red thatch like little strokes of fiery paint against the grassy green of his chin and cheeks, and then he drags his tongue down, across my nub of nerves. I arch back as heat courses through me, but I can't move far, and he uses the opportunity to seize my ass.
He lifts, further delivering my pussy to his mouth, tongue lashing and swiping and swirling. I writhe and thrash, edged all too quickly to an orgasm. This science guy has learned from previous experiments and brings all that to bear for me, never letting up, keeping a heavy pressure on me, suckling and rocking my butt up and down on his hard chin to get me off. It builds hard and fast like a rocket taking off. Too much, too much, not enough.
I explode in a wave, pleasure jolting through me in muscle spasms from the extreme zero to sixty. Panting, I try to catch my breath. He immediately latches his lips on my clit, but the touch is too much after my orgasm and I try to wriggle away.
His fingers tighten on my hips, holding me in place, lips shining with my release. “I need to do this,” he murmurs, breath warm and wet against my pussy.
“Right. Item two on the list,” I chuckle weakly. I brush my fingers through his hair, the softest of brush bristles, down to his cheek. Darker green speckles his cheeks in a flurry of freckles in my wake.
Like mine.
I put myself at his mercy, letting my thighs relax to give him full access. I already feel better—who wouldn't after a guy gets them to come in thirty seconds?—but it’s deeper than that. A bubble in my chest grows, filled with hot chocolate, sweet and comforting.
His finger slides into my slick heat, the blunt tip probing my walls as he searches deeper and deeper. It feels good,sparking more sopping heat deep inside me, but it's not enough, I want more, I want to be stretched. I lift my hips toward him, and he slides inside a second finger, then a third.
And then he withdraws, inch by torturous inch.
“No,” I groan. “Gara, I need more.”
“You'll get more, love.” He's analyzing me again, watching my every twitch with intense awe, an erotic scientist charting all the new reactions he's sparking in me.
