Page 70 of Secretly Abducted
"We have all night," I agree, though my body is already aching for more.
He reaches between us, wrapping his hand around both of us together, and the contrast—his coolness against my heat—makes me shiver. Lightning flashes again, and I see his face clearly, the wonder there, the complete focus on me.
"The storm makes you glow," he says. "Each flash turns you silver."
"You always glow," I counter, then gasp as his hand moves just right. "Fuck, Vel'aan."
"Not yet." He releases us both, hands returning to my thighs. "Want to touch you more first."
His exploration becomes worship—fingers tracing every line of muscle, palms learning the shape of me, thumbs finding sensitive spots I didn't know I had. When he reaches between my legs to cup my balls, rolling them gently, I have to brace myself on his chest.
"Sensitive?"
"Everything's sensitive when you touch me."
Thunder rumbles, closer now, and the rain becomes a downpour. The sound fills the room, creates a cocoon of white noise that makes the world shrink to just us, just this bed, just his hands on my body.
He's producing so much natural lubrication that his cock is slick with it, glistening in his own light. I reach back to stroke him, gathering the wetness on my fingers.
"You're so wet for me," I murmur, bringing my fingers to my mouth to taste—that slightly sweet, ocean-salt flavor that's uniquely him.
"Alex," he groans, watching me lick my fingers clean. "You can't just—"
"I love how you taste," I tell him, reaching back for more. This time I use it on myself, working myself open while he watches with dark, hungry eyes.
"Are you—do you want—"
"Want you inside me," I confirm, adding a second finger. "Want to ride you while the storm passes over. Want to go slow, so slow, until we can't tell where the thunder ends and our heartbeats begin."
His hands find my hips again, steadying me as I rise up on my knees. "Are you ready?"
"Almost." Two fingers now, then three, using his slickness to prepare myself while he watches everything with such intensity I can feel it through the bond—his desire, his restraint, his overwhelming love. "Okay. Now."
I position myself over him, and we both hold our breath as I start to sink down. Even with all our times together, the size of him still makes me go slow, careful, feeling every ridge as he fills me inch by inch.
"Oh fuck," I breathe when I'm halfway. "You're so—"
Lightning illuminates us, and in that snapshot moment I see everything—his face twisted in pleasure, his bioluminescence so bright it rivals the storm, his hands gentle but firm on my hips, not pushing, just supporting.
When I'm fully seated, we both need a moment. The bond between us is singing, each of us feeling what the other feels—his sensation of being surrounded by tight heat, my feeling of being completely filled. The feedback loop is almost overwhelming.
"Move," he whispers. "Please."
I do, rising up slowly until just the tip remains, then sinking back down just as carefully. The pace is nothing like our usual desperation—this is meditation, is worship, is taking our time because we have forever.
His hands roam my body as I ride him—across my chest, down my arms, along my thighs. When I lean forward to kiss him, the angle changes and we both moan into each other's mouths.
"Love you," I gasp against his lips. "Love you so much."
"Love you too." His hands frame my face, holding me steady so he can look into my eyes. "My salvation. My unexpected gift."
Thunder crashes overhead, but neither of us startles. The storm is part of this now, providing percussion for our bodies' rhythm. Rain streams down the windows, and each lightning flash shows us to each other—sweat-slicked and glowing, moving together like we have all the time in the world.
Because we do.
I sit back up, changing the angle again, and his hands immediately find my cock, stroking in time with my movements. Through the bond, I feel his pleasure building, slow and deep like the tide coming in.
"Not going to last," he warns, his bioluminescence pulsing erratically.
