Page 32 of Chloe

She moved her feet apart slowly, opening herself to him.

He leaned closer, mesmerized by the sweet treasure between her legs.

Her sex was like a pink flower, the petals so delicate that it seemed he would tear her to pieces if he tried to claim her.

Maltaffians and Terrans are compatible, he reminded himself. It is known.

And the more he readied her, the easier it would be.

He pressed his lips to her inner thigh, kissing his way up to paradise as she held perfectly still under his mouth.

Most women would have been running their hands all over his sensitive horns, or at the very least tugging at his hair for more, showing Jubal Ash how much they wanted him.

But Chloe was so still it almost seemed that she was holding her breath.

It struck him that she was truly present in the moment in a way he hadn’t experienced with a woman before. And he found that her stillness excited him more than the moaning and writhing of the flashiest tour groupie.

He nuzzled her sex, letting his hot breath tease her before he even touched her with his mouth.

Her hips began to quiver, but she didn’t make a sound.

He nuzzled her again, sucking in her spicy scent, then slowly licked a line up her seam.

Chloe let out a little pant.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered with her eyes squeezed shut.

“Good girl,” he told her, moving his hands up her creamy thighs to spread her wide for him.

Her perfect pink sex was glistening and pulsing for him.

“Jubal,” she whispered.

“So beautiful,” he groaned, leaning forward to press his lips to her.

He lost himself in the fragrant warmth of her, lapping at her honey and exploring every delicate fold.

Chloe moaned helplessly, the sound echoing off the tiles and making him wild with lust.

Unable to help himself, he worked a finger into her folds, massaging her lightly as he flicked her little pearl with his tongue.

Her whole body tensed, and he waited for her to detonate.

13

CHLOE

Chloe was coiled tight with need, Jubal’s mouth working her hungry sex, his finger just inside her, coaxing and teasing her closer and closer to the edge of madness.

Was this sweet torture the poets wrote about?

Even as she cried out at the delicious sensations, she wasn’t sure she could bear any more. It was too much and not enough at the same time, the tension rising so steeply she thought it would pull her apart.

“Jubal, please,” she moaned, intending to beg him to stop. “I can’t—”

Instantly, he pressed harder with his finger, sucking her into his mouth at the same time, moving with a furious rhythm.

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