Barbarian Alien(24)

He nuzzles it.

And I come so hard I’m seeing stars. My cries echo in the snow, and I’m grinding my sex against his face, working every last bit of my orgasm out from under him. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that I’m using his horns like a steering wheel, driving his mouth this way and that, demanding more from him. He’s all too eager to comply and lick me into oblivion. I keep coming with every flick of that tongue over my sensitive parts, until I feel a second orgasm ripping through me, and I’m practically writhing on the ground, my juices covering his face.

When I come down, I collapse in the snow, wheezing. My cootie rattles a bit, and then settles into a softer thrum, temporarily content.

Raahosh’s cootie is grumbling so hard it sounds like a motor, though, and when he licks me again, I push his face away, because I’m too sensitive right now for another round. “Not yet,” I whimper. “I can’t.”

He looks up at me, his face feral, eyes glowing with an unholy light. His hard, sexy mouth is wet with the taste of me, and as I watch, he bares his fangs and gives me a look that makes my nipples perk all over again.

“Mine,” he growls, and buries his face between my legs again.

He begins to lick me again, and I squeal. I lie back, ready to be all his like he just said and—

Wait a fucking moment. Was that English?

I sit up on my elbows and stare down at the alien licking me out. “What did you just say?”





Part Three




RAAHOSH



A small hand jerks on my horn before I can bury my face between her legs again and drink the sweet nectar that flows from my mate’s body.

“What did you say?” she repeats again. The look on her face is utterly furious.

I narrow my eyes at her and try to dip my head again, but she twines her fingers in my hair and jerks instead, and I snarl at her. I want nothing more than to taste her again, to lick her for hours and hours until she’s trembling beneath me. Then, I will slide my cock into her warm, waiting well and we will be together as mates. As it should be. But the hand in my hair is insistent, and she snaps her knees together, trying to push me out.

“You spoke fucking English.”

“I did,” I say, and force her knees apart again. I want more of her thick, sweet honey. I want to lose myself between her legs for hours. The men of my tribe say that there is no taste like that of a resonance mate on the tongue, and they are right. I never knew what they referred to until now. Now, I want to taste nothing but her for the rest of my days.

Her cunt can be my sustenance. All else is unworthy of notice.

I dip my head again, determined to lick her. She likes it when I lick her. Was she not pushing her slick, wet petals against my face moments ago? Demanding more? I will give her more. My cock aches, as hard as the stone in my spear-tip. I long to bury myself inside her, but I want more of her on my tongue first.

She gives an angry screech and slams a small fist into my eye. Then she cries out in pain and shakes her hand. “Damn you! Why is your head so hard?”

That gets my attention. My mate is hurt. I sit up and take her small hand in mine, only to have her try to hit me again.

“Stop touching me,” she bellows in my ear. “I am so stinking pissed at you! You speak English!”

“I do.” I catch the hand that rises to strike me before she can connect with my forehead again. It’s not that her hits hurt – it’s that she’s going to damage her soft little human hands. My brow is plated, and her tiny fists are weak.

“You lied to me!”

That makes me angry. She thinks I willfully deceived her? For what purpose? “How did I do such a thing?”

“You never told me!”

“You never asked,” I counter, my irritation rising. “You simply talk and talk and assume I don’t understand you. You never bothered to ask me if I could.”

Her pink face flushes, and I watch as she pants, her breath puffing in the cold air. “You are a dick.”

“I do not know what this word means.”

“Oh really?” Her voice is a sneer. “Here I thought you were the expert on the human language.”

“There are words you speak that have no match with what I have learned.”

“Funny. I thought ‘dick’ was the language of your people.”

I frown down at her. “I do not know this word, dick. I am sa-khui. That is my people.”

Her eyes roll and she pushes at my chest again. “It’s called sarcasm.”

“I do not know this word, sarcasm—“

“Never mind,” she bellows, clearly furious with me. “God!”

She’s mad at me? I saved her. If she’d have fallen into the water, they’d have torn the flesh from her bones in an instant. The thought of her suffering – dying – fills me with an incoherent rage. I straighten and stare down at her, naked legs still sprawled in the snow. She’s scowling up at me, which makes it easier to resist her beauty. “You shouldn’t have run from the cave.”