Page 8 of My Big Alien Bodyguard

This does mean that I get to touch him, though. I get to splay my fingers across his chest and abdomen and I can feel how powerful he is. A little of his blood gets on my fingers, a viscous green liquid that clings to my digits. I have no idea how this could possibly be pumped around a body, and I also have a very strong, intrusive thought telling me to lick it. I don’t do that, but I really want to. There’s just something almost candy-like about it, perhaps the stickiness. I wiggle my thumb and forefinger back and forth, watching it glob and then spread out into thinner, translucent, slime-like sheeting.

“Is this blood?”

“It’s more like a protective gel layer,” he explains. “It lies between our outer scaled skin and a softer layer of skin more like your own.”

“Oh, okay. So we, to you, I guess, I guess we look like we’ve been peeled?”

He barks with sudden laughter, loud enough to frighten me and make me flinch away.

“Sorry,” he says, his teeth flashing, lips still curled back in a dragon smile. “That amused me greatly. Peeled. Yes. I suppose you do. But you look cute peeled.”

I look down because I don’t want him to see me blushing. That deep, growly voice calling me cute makes me absolutely melt. I have gotten a lot of praise lately, and adulation. People have been charming me, courting me, cheating me into a contract that might get me killed… but that compliment was the most genuine one I have felt in a long time.

While looking down, I can’t help but notice that he is wearing pants with a rubbery sort of consistency that makes me sweat just looking at it.

“You must be so hot in those things.”

I don’t mean to sound suggestive, but it comes out thirsty as hell. I canfeelhim smirk at me. There’s an energy between us, an intensity that’s making me very nervous. I sound like the thirstiest groupie ever. I am supposed to be the starlet, the one who is worshipped, but this guy makes me want to drop to my knees and do filthy, debasing things. It’s my best-kept secret that I am curious about submission. Not in everything, but you know, in the bedroom. Problem is I never found any man I wouldconsider submitting to, even for fun. They were all too… human, I guess.

Zayne isn’t human. He’s an alien, a monster of sorts. He’s also my guardian and protector and after the day I’ve had, that’s becomeveryattractive.

I slide down to the bathroom floor, my knees cushioned by a soft mat. He parts his legs to allow me closer in an apparent effort to bandage his boo-boo. That puts me in the enclosure of his muscular thighs and right at the level of where his manhood, or alien dragonhood would be. His pants are tight but stretchy. They are the kind of attire that allow him to move freely when he has to. I am assuming if he was in any way aroused, I’d be able to tell at this point.

Resting my hands lightly on his thighs, I feel the muscularity and power of his body. I look up at him, and I see him returning my gaze with what feels like way too much of a knowing stare.

“Uhm. I….er… I don’t think these bandages are going to work,” I say lamely. “Maybe there’s some other way I can make you feel better?”

I can’t believe I just said that! It tripped right off my tongue without even bothering to ask my brain, an arch suggestion of obvious sexuality.

“Oh yes, what’s that?” He hasn’t moved at all. Hasn’t done anything to either accept my fumbling overtures, or reject them either.

“You tell me.”

Okay, that’s a better response. It could be taken sexually, or just generically. My ass is still covered from the potential humiliation of what I’m doing here.

He chuckles softly and reaches out to me, one finger under my chin, looking into my eyes with his knowing dragon gaze. “I think I had better take care of you,” he purrs, his voice deep and rolling in a way that makes each and every sound wave resonate through me, finding the sensitive parts of my being and making them vibrate in time with his essence. Suddenly, being this close to him isn’t just kind of hot. It’s like a whole new existential experience. I feel like a different person entirely. I feel hot and melty and soft.

“Take care of me?” I almost whisper the question.

“You have a wound as well, remember?”

“I do?” I am momentarily confused.

He smiles slightly, as if I am a very silly girl. “The burn under your chin.”

That has been smoldering away since it happened, but I’ve been so hopped up first on adrenaline, and then with desire, that I barely even felt that little source of pain anymore.

“Oh. Yes. I forgot.”

He leans forward, reaching for the med kit and a tube of burn cream. I shrink down a little, becoming somewhat covered by his body, the rippling planes of his sculpted abdominals suddenly coming to a stop very close to my face. The tip of my tongue extends and makes contact with unwounded, scaled flesh. Just for a brief moment. I bet he won’t even notice. He tastes slightlysalty and metallic, but not in a bad way. He tastes like minerals and strength, and fire.

Zayne pulls back to sit up, the tube of burn cream looking comically small in his oversized hand.

“Did you just lick me, Lyric?”

His use of my name snaps me out of whatever erotic reverie I’ve been in and plunges me into another vat of intense feeling. Oh no. I have been terribly naughty.

“Uhm,” I grin a little. “Maybe?”

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