Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Ainar nods. “I understand. This is your child, Naomi. If we are still together when the baby is born—and I intend we shall be—then we will revisit things then. Does that ease your fears?”
It does, actually. It’ll allow us to explore being us without the anchor of him being in the child’s life. Would I like him to be part of it? Absolutely, but only if we’re both still friendly. I’ve only known Ainar for a week or so and most of that was apart. It’s too early for us to decide anything yet, other than that we like each other. “So we’re friends that are attracted to each other and made a baby, but that’s all.”
“You may view us as friends, but in my eyes, you are already more.” Ainar’s voice is a soft caress. “My people quickly become covetous of their females, and I am already obsessed with you.”
“I’ll allow it,” I joke. It’s strange, but I feel safe. I know that even if he’s completely infatuated, if I tell him to back off, he will. Heck, he already did. He really is as sweet as he seems.
“Harder!” the voice shrieks from next door.
We both wince.
“Maybe in the future we need to have date nights at my farm,” I whisper to him.
Ainar nods. “First thing tomorrow, I am getting you a bigger bed from provisions.”
I chuckle at that, because I didn’t mind my tiny bed. It allowed us to squeeze in tight next to each other. I get up from my spot at the table and move to his side, brushing my hand up his arm as he gazes at me. “Until then, you’re just going to have to be extra quiet, hmm?”
“Me?” Ainar tilts his head back, regarding me. “You whimper every time I thrust into you.”
Do I? My entire body clenches with arousal at his words. “Do not.”
“You do. Shall I prove it?” His arm encircles my waist as I lean close, and his tail loops around one of my legs. “Shall I put you down on my bed and fill you with my cock and we shall see which one makes more noise?”
“Do it,” I dare him. “Because I bet you’re not quiet either.”
Ainar gets to his feet, looming over me. A year or two ago I would have been utterly terrified of him, his arching horns and muscular build. Of the very alien-ness that stamps his blue features. But now I love them. I love the fact that even though he’s oversized, there’s a gentleness in his big hands. There’s adoration in his eyes when he looks at me, as if I really am the best thing he’s ever seen.
He already considers me his. And as he gently picks me up and swings me into his arms, I suspect it won’t take long for me to see him as mine, either. I might already be halfway there.
He carries me the short distance to his bed and lays me ever-so-gently atop the blankets. With reverent hands, he pulls my tunic dress off of my body, tugging it over my head and then setting it aside. He does the same with my shoes, and when I’m naked on the bed, he drops to his knees at the side of it and pushes my thighs apart.
“Remember,” he breathes. “We must be quiet.”
And then he tongues me in the most explicit, obscene way that makes it utterly impossible to remain quiet. He laps at my clit, teasing it with the flat of his tongue, driving me towards a hot, quick climax. I keep expecting him to change things up, to pull back, but he never does. He’s not interested in edging me. He’s interested in making me come. He’s interested in making me scream like a banshee.
When he finds my G-spot deep inside with that thick finger of his, I’m not even the slightest bit ashamed of the wailing noise I make when I climax. When he continues to tongue me, driving me towards another quick, sharp orgasm, I whimper, all right. And when he flips me over and tugs me to my knees, pushing into me from behind with agonizing slowness, making me feel every ridge and piercing exquisitely, I can’t even remember what noises I make. Just that I can’t stop, and when he starts pounding into me, he’s not quiet, either. He grunts with every stroke, making my skin prickle with just how sexy I find it. His spur thumps against my back door with every movement, and instead of irritating me, I find that I start craving that little push against that spot when he bottoms out. And when he puts a hand on the back of my neck, holding me in place while he fucks me?
I’m pretty sure all his neighbors hear.
I’m pretty sure I don’t care, either. All I know is that I’m happy.