Page 46 of Kidnapped By the Beast
Her thoughts were in a turmoil.
Great. Perfect. Congratulations, Lexi—you’ve officially lost any claim to pure scientific status. Being milked for the Bacillus Aurum is one thing—giving the scientist doing the milking blowjobs afterwards is going too far!
Her cheeks burned hot enough to catch her hair on fire. She wanted to hide. She wanted to die. She wanted…
Well, if she was being honest? She wanted to do it again.
That thought made her face flame even hotter.
She could still hear his voice in her head, rough and sweet all at once?—
That’s it, little Lexi. Swallow every drop for me.
And damn it all, she’d loved it. Loved the way he stroked her hair and never shoved, never forced, just let her go at her own pace while he praised her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
And God help her, she liked it when he called her little Lexi. The rest of the time it was Alexandra this and Alexandra that, but when his voice dropped low and he used that nickname, it made something warm and gooey melt in her chest.
She pressed her cheek deeper against his lap, groaning softly.
I’m a mess. A kinky, needy mess. When did this happen? What’s wrong with me?
Because it wasn’t just about the blowjob. Her mind kept flashing back to him behind her, thrusting that alien dildo into her while the milking machine tugged at her nipples. The obscene sounds…the shame…the way she had come so hard despite trying not to. Nectar shooting from her nipples…her voice sobbing for more… his deep voice whispering encouragement in her ear, calling her a “good girl” urging her to take it all…to take it deep…
And I liked it. I more than liked it. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I secretly kinky? Like, have I been hiding a freak flag all this time and just never noticed?
The memory of her ex, Greg popped into her head. Three-minute Greg…Vanilla Greg. The man who thought keeping the lights on during Missionary was experimental and considered her suggestion that he might try kissing her “down there” some kind of dirty, scandalous perversion.
Yeah. No wonder I read spicy romance novels by the truckload when I was with him. Somebody had to pick up the slack. But this? Living out a plot of one of the stories I used to read? I never signed up for that.
Yet here she was, starring in her very own Alien Milking Farm fantasy.
She bit her lip, sneaking a glance up at Dr. Brandt’s face. His strong jaw was set in its usual stern lines and his golden eyes looked as though he were deep in thought. He looked calm, composed, and perfectly in control—as always.
But that wasn’t the whole truth. She’d seen him lose control. She’d felt him shudder under her tongue…heard him groan her name like she was more than just a lab subject.
And that was maybe the most confusing part of all.
Did he feel anything for her—anything real? Or was she just a science experiment for the big Kindred? One minute he was barking orders and the next he was stroking her hair like she was something precious to be cherished. It was like he was too different warriors.
Which one was the real Dr. Brandt?
Lexi didn’t know. She sighed softly and burrowed further into his lap, even though her pride screamed at her not to. She shouldn’t be doing this…and yet she couldn’t seem to stop.
God, Lexi. You’re in so much trouble, whispered a little voice in her head.
Unfortunately, Lexi knew it was right. She had no idea how much trouble her growing feelings for Dr. Brandt were going to cause her…but she was soon to find out.
25
LEXI
Lexi hadn’t expected to find herself wandering around an alien farmer’s market with her grumpy Beast Kindred employer-slash-owner. Yet, somehow, that’s exactly where she’d ended up.
It had started that morning.
She’d woken in the soft moss-covered bed in her Terian guest room with her breasts still aching faintly, her nipples tender from the last session with the suction cups. She’d braced herself for the usual routine—Brandt coming in to take her to the milking lab…checking her body and hooking her up to the milking machine…then murmuring scientific observations while she tried not to die of embarrassment and pleasure.
Instead, he’d stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his massive chest, his golden eyes unusually thoughtful.
