Page 71 of Secretly Abducted
"Don't need to. We can do this again. And again." I speed up just slightly, the new angle hitting perfect inside me. "We have the rest of our lives."
That breaks his control. He comes with a cry that mingles with thunder, his bioluminescence going supernova bright, and through the bond I feel it all—the pulsing pleasure, the overwhelming love, the complete contentment. His releaseinside me is warm and abundant, and the ridges on his cock seem to pulse with his orgasm.
I follow him over, spilling across his stomach and chest, and the feedback loop through our bond makes it feel like coming forever, waves of pleasure that match the waves of rain against the windows.
I collapse forward, still connected, and he wraps his arms around me. We lie there listening to the storm pass over, feeling heartbeats slow, sharing breath and space and skin.
"The storm didn't hurt anything this time," he says quietly, fingers combing through my damp hair.
"No," I agree, pressing a kiss to his throat. "This one just gave us an excuse to make love while it passed."
"Is that what we did? Made love?" There's wonder in his voice.
"That's what we always do," I tell him. "Even when it's rough or desperate or quick. It's always making love because it's us."
His bioluminescence shifts to pure gold—happiness, contentment, love all mixed together. Through the window, I see the storm moving away, lightning now distant, thunder just a memory.
"Want to go again?" he asks, and I can feel him still hard inside me, one of the benefits of Nereidan physiology.
"Always," I laugh, starting to move again, still slow, still gentle. "Always want you."
We make love twice more as the storm passes, each time slow and thorough, hands learning every inch of skin, mouths mapping territories already claimed. Between rounds, we lie tangled together, watching the lightning paint patterns on the ceiling, sharing quiet observations about nothing and everything.
When we're finally spent, I'm the one glowing—not with bioluminescence but with satisfaction so complete it feels like light. Vel'aan traces patterns on my chest, his touch feather-light.
"Tell me something I don't know about you," I say.
"Like what?"
"Anything. Childhood memory, favorite food before slime pods ruined your palate, secret dream."
He's quiet for a moment, fingers still tracing. "I used to come to the surface during storms when I was young. My creator parents would forbid it, say it was dangerous, but I loved watching the lightning hit the water."
"Rebel."
"Hardly. That was my only rebellion." He pauses. "What about you?"
"I used to be terrified of heights," I admit.
"What changed?"
"Almost dying, I guess. After you saved me, nothing really seemed scary anymore. It seemed like... possibility. Like somewhere out there, you existed, and as long as you were there, I was safe."
His bioluminescence pulses warm gold. "You really thought about me all those years?"
"Not consciously at first. But yeah. You were always there in the back of my mind. This beautiful, glowing figure who pulled me from death."
"I wasn't beautiful then. I was terrified."
"You were beautiful to me."
Lightning flickers one last time in the distance, and the rain has become just a gentle patter. The storm is passing, leaving everything clean and new.
"Best storm ever," I murmur against his shoulder.
"Agreed," he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Though we should check the fields in the morning."
"In the morning," I agree, already feeling sleep pulling at me. "For now, just this."
