Page 15 of Grumpy Alien Lumberjack
“My turn,” she whispered, and the look in her eyes was pure, unadulterated hunger.
She leaned down, her hair curtaining them as she kissed him, a slow, languid exploration that promised more. Her hands roamed his chest, her touch light and curious. Then, she moved lower. Her fingers fumbled for a moment with the fastenings of his pants before she freed him.
When her trembling hand ventured down, closing around the rigid length of him, he hissed, his control fraying as she explored him.
“I was right,” she whispered, her voice breathy. “This is an impressive axe.”
A rough laugh escaped him. Before he could respond, her mouth replaced her hand. The shock of it—the wet, hot heat of her mouth—made his hips buck. He tangled his hands in her hair to anchor himself.
She looked up at him, her lips glistening, a triumphant smile playing on her mouth. “I must really want pie because your cock tastes like pumpkin spice, too.”
A guttural sound ripped from his throat. Jeneva slipped her lips over the tip of his shaft and sucked him into her mouth. An appreciative sound leaked around the seal of her mouth, like he was delicious.
He sat up, gently pulling her away, his hands framing her flushed face. “Somehow,” he said, his voice raw with emotion, “in all this vast, empty space, you made your way to me. That is a gift I will not ignore.”
He laid her back on the furs, pushing the shirt from her shoulders. He kissed the scar on her collarbone, then the hollow of her throat. “Now, it is my turn to… taste and show you that I am grateful the stars brought you here.”
He moved down her body, his mouth and hands worshipping her. He kissed the faint lines of her scars, tasting her skin, learning every inch of her. When his mouth found the soft curls between her thighs, she cried out, her back arching. He held her there, his tongue a gentle torment until she was writhing, her pleas turning into a single, sharp cry of release that echoed off the cabin walls.
He moved up to cover her body with his, settling between her thighs again, bracing his weight on his forearms, careful not to crush her. He looked down at her, at this incredible, brave female who had faced down monsters and laughed at terrible pie.
He entered her slowly, watching her face for any sign of pain. Her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips, but then she relaxed, her body welcoming him, stretching to accommodate him. The feeling of being inside her, of being joined so completely, was an agony of pleasure. He held himself still, letting them both adjust.
She lifted her hips in a silent plea for more.
That was all the invitation he needed.
He withdrew slightly and pushed in again, deeper this time. A guttural moan escaped him. He began to move, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. She answered his movements and met his hips with soft cries.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her nails scoring his back.
“Methic, please…”
He drove into her, faster now, rougher, the warrior in him taking over. He claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss as he felt her body begin to tense and shudder around him. He swallowed her cry as he crushed his lips to hers and spilled his release deep inside her.
After a moment, he rolled onto his side and pulled her against him, cocooning her in the furs. He tucked her head under his chin, his hand stroking her hair. She was already drifting off, her body pliant and relaxed in his arms.
He watched the fire die down to glowing embers. Since he’d come to Asemsa, he’d sworn off taking a mate. The Nexxus was all he needed.
Until now, when he wanted more.
Carefully, he scooped Jeneva into his arms, furs and all, and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed and slid in beside her, pulling the furs over them both before wrapping his body around hers. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer.
It was time.
Time to admit that the forest wasn’t enough. Not when she fit like this against him. Not when he so easily accepted her as if she were meant for him.
If she hadn’t been compelled to stop in the Nexxus to draw, they never would have met. Methic grinned and kissed her hair.
The forest seemed to know he needed more, too, or it wouldn’t have given him Jeneva.
Chapter Seven
Jeneva
She woke slowly, cocooned in a warmth that felt more profound than just the furs piled around her. Methic’s arm was a heavy, possessive weight over her waist, his chest a solid wall against her back. The scent of him, of woodsmoke and that strange, wonderful spice, filled her senses.
A loud, insistent banging on the cabin door shattered the peace.
