Page 62 of Tempting Cargo
So did his cock. As my body relaxed and stretched to accommodate him, I pushed back, needing more. He rocked his hips, fucking me in shallow movements, every drag and slide over my pussy walls leaving me gasping.
I tried to keep my ripples under control, to let him do this the human way. My poor confused curl was trapped between us, and when he pulled out halfway to sink back inside with a satisfied grunt, it reached around in the air for the balls it couldn’t find.
Strangely, its neediness fed my arousal, my body searching for something else to replace the sensation it was missing.
I pushed back, hard.
Oh,thiswas what had been missing, Garrison’s rough, deep thrusts as he pounded into me.
So alien. So good.
We slammed against each other, as if trying to prove who could fuck the strongest, satisfying my kri’ith need for battle.
I couldn’t hold back my ripples any longer, an internal orgasm building. Garrison groaned, fighting the draw of my body, adjusting his thrusts as he bottomed out without even trying, my greedy cunt desperate to keep him tight inside me like it expected.
“Really want to make you come,” he said, his ragged voice betraying how near the edge he was, how much he fought for control.
I was there with him, so tantalisingly close, his balls brushing my clit every time he sank home, the ridge of his cock hitting all my sensitive spots. But like yesterday, it wasn’t quite enough, that sharp edge still lingering out of reach.
Shuddering with effort, he slowed. He reached round to stroke my clit, but it wasn’t a natural movement for him.
“It’s okay,” I gasped. “Fuck me. I want to feel you come,mitsha, please.”
With an anguished groan, he grabbed my hips with both hands, gripping me tight. He shuttled into me, fighting my ripples with each thrust until he gave in, burying himself deep. My cunt milked his iron-hard cock, jets of hot cum coating my pussy.
After only a handful of heartbeats, he withdrew, a sharp pang of disappointment hitting me at the abrupt separation.
Careless of his own cum dripping out of me, he shifted onto his back, sucking my clit into his mouth, pressing two, three fingers inside me, twisting them once he realised my cunt wouldn’t let him thrust.
My orgasm built so easily, so quickly.
My knees gave out, and he moaned in bliss, pulling me down so I sat on his face, sucking me in so my clit filled his mouth.
I sobbed as I came, his name on my lips as white-hot pleasure seared through me, and our shared wetness soaked his chin and chest.
I didn’t want to move, but I did, just enough to flop down onto his outstretched body. I didn’t care that my tits got covered in our cum, just wanted his warmth, his arms around me, his hand in my headspines—and his contented silence, because there weren’t the words in all the languages for how perfect this was, and I wanted to pretend I could hold onto it forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dangerous cargo requires additional safety measures
Garrison
WE DIDN’T leavethe bed all morning except to get water from the bathroom.
Languid, post-sex Shohari was almost as open as drunk Shohari, and the morning passed far too quickly in a haze of touching, sucking, coming, and talking.
In a lull as we lay, sated, on the bed, I trailed a finger over the soft curves of her stomach. “Why did you help us, anyway?” Her muscles tensed under my hand. “I know it was because you realised you had to have me in your bed, but it’s okay. You can tell me the reason you tell yourself.”
She rumbled a laugh, the one that sounded almost like a cheetah’s purr. “Impudent male.” God, I shouldn’t like that as much as I did. “The other male told me how you were taken by the Reserve. I suppose I had a degree of empathy.” Her soft tone went back to business. “He didn’t tell me how you ended up in that mess in the first place. Whatever were you doing? Not that they need a good reason to detain anybody.”
It was easy to share her bitterness about the military group. “We got caught up in a riot. The Reserve rounded up everyone and only sorted it once we were light years away from home.” I realised this was a story I’d never told, and one I’d probably tell several times in the years to come.
“A riot? Where?”
“Tathar Refuge.” And now, I supposed, we were the Tathar refugees.
“I’m not familiar with that place. What is it?”
