Page 56 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid
“What is it called?” he asked again, this time penetrating her with his finger.
Her channel, wet and hotter than he’d imagined, squeezed tight around him. She tensed at the intrusion, but the broken sound she made was one of pleasure.
“Vagina.” The word was strangled. Her fingers were still strumming over her clit, her body ratcheting tighter with tension. “Move your finger, Rentir. Pump it into me.”
“It is too small.” He informed her as he obeyed her command, sliding his finger out before pressing it back in.
A muscle ticced in her jaw, her body strung tight as he mated her with one long finger. He could feel the spongy tissue at the top of her channel as he bottomed out to his knuckles with every stroke.
“It—ohhh, God—it stretches!” she gritted. “Another finger, Ren.Please.”
He obliged, skeptical as he was. With fascination, he watched her stretch to accommodate his second finger, her walls twitching around him as he pressed them deep and dragged them back out. Some of his dismay dissipated as he realized she was right—her body was changing to fit him.
She groaned, rocking her hips hard to drive them into her, impatient with his lazy pace. Her wetness spread over him, her muscles stretched, and hope bloomed within him. Theywouldfit, surely. Of course, it couldn’t hurt to further test his theory first…
His tail twitched in his peripheral vision, the metallic black scales glinting in a flash of lightning. He pulled his fingers free, inciting an angry mewl from Cordelia.
“I was almost there, why did you—oh!” Her eyes went wide as the tip of his tail pressed against her entrance, sliding to collect her slick before it began to test the limits of her muscles.
He met eyes with Cordelia, looking askance at her as her muscles strained against his tail. She bit her bottom lip, nodding emphatically, and he increased the pressure, sliding into her.He pushed until he felt the end of her channel, bumping gently against it. She seemed to like that, if the guttural sound she made was any indication. He did it again, withdrawing and driving home slowly, fascinated by her pleasure.
She was so beautiful. Her brows were pinched, her eyes wild and desperate. She bit her bottom lip so hard he feared it would bleed. He skimmed his hands along her inner thighs, holding them wide as they trembled, not wanting this view taken from him.
“I’m about to?—”
Her eyes rolled back as a bolt of lightning struck, and her cry was so loud that it drowned out the following roll of thunder. Her channel spasmed around him, milking rhythmically, and all he could think about was what it would feel like to have her wringing the seed from his cock. Her thighs clenched beneath his palms as she shuddered, but he wouldn’t let her close her legs. He wanted to see all of it.
Her hand finally fell away from her clit, latching onto his wrist as her inner muscles continued twitching around him. She tugged at him, and he allowed her to drag him down beside her, though he refused to remove his tail. He wanted to feel every tiny flutter to the very end.
“Ren,” she breathed, turning her face into his chest.
No one had ever called him that. They’d been reprimanded for impropriety as youths if they gave one another shortened names. Now, warmed by the way she said it, he wondered if they were really being punished for attempting to find camaraderie in one another.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he pushed wet tendrils of hair off her cheek.
“That was…” She shook her head and laughed.
“Good?”
“Very good.”
She sighed against him, her breath tickling the damp skin of his collarbone. Her fingers trailed over his shoulder and down his pectoral, tracing the edge of the black tattoo that took up most of one side of his chest.
“I didn’t notice this before. What is it?” Her finger traced the whorl that was the Aurillon’s symbol, now bisected by a thick, raised scar.
“It’s the mark of the Aurillon. This whorl”—he caught her fingers and traced them over it again—“is the symbol of the empire. These hashmarks are my batch number. This symbol at the bottom is the purpose I was bred for.” He dragged her finger to the other side of the loop that split the circle. “And this is the role I was assigned.”
She traced that symbol, a circle with a dot at its center and four more at its cardinal points. “So, this says ‘security’ in their language?”
“Yes.” A lie. The word they’d inked into his skin translated more accurately to “leashedgarral”, a type of creature domesticated on Auretia to protect its master’s interests.
“And the scar?” she asked, running her finger over it.
“A declaration of my freedom. We have each carved through our own marks.”
She petted that warped skin appreciatively as she hummed her approval. Her lashes glittered as her eyes moved, dappled with tiny drops of water. In that moment, basking in the afterglow of what they’d done together, he was sure there was nothing more glorious in all of the universe than the alien woman in his arms.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured into her ear, kneading the tense muscles of her neck. “I feel like every moment of my life has led me to you. Every moment of struggle was worth it to have you here in my arms now. I do not know what to call thefeeling. It is pain and it is pleasure all at once. It suffocates me, and I never want it to stop.”
