Reading Online Novel

Barbarian Alien(33)



His hand slides to my pubic hair and he drags his fingers through it before finding my clit again. He brushes the tips of his fingers over it in a careful exploration that makes me grip him against me, hard. “And what purpose does it serve?”

“It, um, just feels good.” I don’t know if the clit has any sort of anatomical purpose. It’s not like a kidney or anything. My breath explodes when he circles it with his finger again. “Oh God. Really, really good.”

“Mm? So you like it when I touch it?”

I cry out and my fingernails dig into his skin when he continues the indolent, aggravating circles around the small patch of sensitive skin. I lift one leg and wrap it around his hips, and my pelvis bucks against his touch. “God, yes. Please…”

“Will you say my name, Liz?” He presses light kisses to my mouth even as he continues to touch my clit in maddeningly slow, grazing motions.

I lick my lips, whimpering with his touches. “Why?”

“Because I want to hear my mate say my name when she comes for me,” he murmurs, and nips at my chin.

Another whimper escapes my throat. “How…” God, it’s getting hard to think. I just want to grab his hand, shove his big fingers inside me, and ride until I’m coming like a madwoman. “How do you know…I’m about to come?”

“Are you not?” His teeth graze my chin, and then he begins to lick down my neck. “Shall I drink your sweet nectar from the source until you do?”

“Oh God,” I moan. My fingernails dig into his shoulders. His filthy, weird words are going to make me come like crazy. I’m so close as it is. “Raahosh…I need a finger inside me. Fuck me with your hand.”

He groans against my throat and his tongue flicks against the cords of my neck. “Say my name again and I shall give you whatever you want.”

“Raahosh,” I cry, and one big finger brushes against my core again. This time when I arch against him, it sinks deep. I bellow his name again, and my cootie gives a long, hard shiver of delight in my chest. “Just like that! Oh God!”

“Say it again,” he demands, and thrusts into me with his finger.

I buck against it, clinging to him. “Raahosh! Raahosh!” My cootie purrs so loud I feel as if it’s drowning me out, and then when he thrusts again, his thumb grazes my clit. My body explodes and I repeat his name with a keening cry as I come.

The breath hisses from him as he continues to pump into me with his finger, over and over again. “I feel that,” he says, voice soft with wonder. “I feel you clenching against my fingers.”

A hot blush heats my cheeks and I push at his hand, since I’m starting to feel oversensitized. He ignores my attempts to brush him away and keeps thrusting into me, a fascinated look on his face.

“My mate,” he says reverently. “My Liz.”

Oh dear. I have a feeling if I don’t distract him away from his shiny new toy, I’m not getting out of this without him ‘claiming’ me for real. Of course, the thought sends another shiver through my body and my thighs clench around his hand, which doesn’t help. His cootie purrs even louder in his chest, and both of them sound like a cacophony in my ears.

“Let me taste you,” he says, and begins to move down my body.

Wait, wait, wait. I’m not ready for that again. Not with my legs still quivering like noodles. “Actually,” I say, latching on to an idea. I slide a hand down his big arm and then move boldly to his front and cup that big, enormous cock. “It’s my turn to play with you. That’s how humans court.”

He looks up at me and frowns. “This is courting?”

“In some circles it is,” I tell him, and wriggle away from his grip. His finger slides out of me, and for a moment, I feel so empty I want to flop right back onto my back and let him fuck me. That’s probably just the cootie talking, though. And I’m determined not to be ruled by it, so I slide my hand up and down his cock to get his attention.

It does the trick. The breath hisses from him and his hand covers mine. “Wait–”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, releasing my squeezing hold on his cock a little. “Have you not had sex in a while?” That’s a legit concern, considering there are four women in the tribe, and two have babies. “We can go slow.”

His jaw clenches and he looks away from me, removing my hand.

“Um. A really, really long time?”

“Does it matter?” he growls.

Oh boy. I have myself a bona-fide alien virgin. I regard him for a long moment, and then my heart squeezes with sympathy. No wonder he thinks he’s ugly. If no one in his tribe has ever touched him, he has to think it’s because of how he looks. A tribe with only four women would mean those ladies have their pick of men – until they get cootie-mated, of course. I guess Raahosh has never had that sort of experience.