Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"Mmm, I just needed to hear you say it aloud. How many more before your needs are sated? Three? Four?"
"W-what?" I'm not sure we're talking about the same thing suddenly.
Zhur lifts his head. "How many climaxes does a human woman require to be satisfied? Every race has a different body and different needs, and I want to ensure you get what you need."
Jesus Christ, is he serious? He's going to have to peel me off the floor from just one, especially if they're all like that. It feels almost greedy to ask for more than one. In the past, I'm lucky to orgasm at all with a partner because I always seem to pick guys that talk a good game and then get incredibly selfish the moment the lights go out. But this isn't Earth, I remind myself. No one's going to call me a slut or think I'm a jezebel if I demand more than one. Even so, it's harder for me to break out of the prison my thoughts create.
I end up giving him a non-answer, stroking my fingers through the thick tufts of fur atop his head. "You know, whatever you're comfortable with."
"I am comfortable with making you climax as often as you need," he continues in that same easy voice, and strokes his fingers through the sensitive cleft of my pussy, seeking out my clit again.
Just like that, the sated arousal flares again. I suck in a breath as he rubs his thumb against the underside of my clit, as if he knows instinctively which touches I like the best. Of course I'm going to want more of everything when he does that. "I mean...I wouldn't be opposed to more..."
"How much more?" His tongue rasps over the peak of my breast.
I whimper, because how can I possibly answer such a thing?
"Then just tell me when to stop," he murmurs, as if understanding the mess going on inside my head. "We will both learn how much you need."
My hips arch, and I rock against his hand as he continues to finger me. "You...what about you?" It takes me a moment to realize that while I'm sprawled and flushed, he's still fully dressed. Oh my god. I'm writhing on his hand and he's completely clothed. What is wrong with me? "Shouldn't you get naked?"
His mouth moves over my skin, his lips soft compared to the strange raspiness of his tongue. "If I bare myself, I'm not going to be able to concentrate on anything. Let me focus upon you and your needs, and then I will undress."
I should protest. Probably. But his fingers are dipping inside my channel again even as he continues to thumb my clit and I decide I'm going to be greedy. So fucking greedy. "Okay. Make me come again and then you get naked, because I need to feel you on top of me."
Zhur chuckles. "It shall be as you command, my wife."
Oh god, that shouldn't be nearly as sexy as it is, but with his mouth on my breast and his fingers deep inside me? I've never heard anything more erotic. I ride his hand and moan my way through a second orgasm, this one far quicker and not nearly as blinding as the last one, but just as decadent.
All the while, my alien husband murmurs filthy words about his fingers and my anatomy and purrs with satisfaction at my responses.
A gal could get used to this sort of thing.
CHAPTER
SIXTY
ZHUR
I'm the Heir, the inheritor of the seat of power on Praxii Minor. It's natural for me to assume the lead in all things, as others look to me to be in charge. I am the one that sets the pace. I am the one that takes control.
But in Maeve's bed? I want her to be in charge.
My strange human wife is so delicately made compared to me, her thoughts scattered and so nervous that I need her to wrest control. I want her to make demands upon me. I want her to insist upon her needs being met, so she feels that she is the one in power. The truth is that she does hold sway over me. All she needs to do is make one of those soft, needy noises in her throat and I want nothing more than to bring her pleasure. Her fingers stroke over my ears and I want to rub up against her.
This is dangerous territory. If she knew how much power she held over me, she'd probably use it against me. She'd demand that I service her and then make me sleep out in the barn, perhaps. Even that doesn't sound so terrible, because I'm envisioning a night with my mouth buried where my hand currently is, and that seems incredibly pleasant. My cock is throbbing and aching in my clothes, reminding me that I haven't come, but it reminds me that there's a pleasure to be had in subjugating my own needs for those of others.