And also his determination that nothing will ever harm me. How he’ll cherish me. How thoughts of me torment him day and night, how I’ve started to cloud his mission and everything he thought he wanted.

I feel how he felt when he tasted me. He feels like his life was a swath of gray and then suddenly I burst in like sunlight on his frozen, iced over planet of unending night.

After closing off his feelings and trying to stay as cold and calculating as his mother, suddenly he’s awash in emotion and it’s like a tidal wave sweeping him away. But instead of being afraid of it, he’s thrown himself in the deep end. Because of me. For me.

I toss away his hand and, lost in the swirl of both his emotion and mine, I throw my arms up and around as much of his neck as I can reach.

He leans down and our lips crash together the next moment.



She kisses me as if there is nowhere she would rather be, no others’ arms she would rather have wrapped around her.

I do not squabble or ask questions. When I am given a gift, I receive and count my blessings.

I kiss her back, tasting and scenting her with my tongue, careful to protect her delicate lips and tongue from my rear fangs.

She leaps up and wraps her legs around my waist. Such tiny little limbs and so soft. I grip underneath her thigh, grasping her buttock and squeezing.

She arches into me as we kiss and, hand still on her buttock, I pull her wide and slide my hand between the heat of her legs. Her clothing keeps me from my quarry, but she squirms against my hand all the same, a little mewling pleasured noise escaping her throat. She likes that.

It is too much. I must have her naked. I must see all of what was teased when she was bathing me.

I set her down and then grab the cloth covering her beautiful teats from me. I tear it, rending the cloth down the center, and throw the pieces to the floor. She shrieks a little in surprise, but then she laughs. “Next time, just ask,” she says.

And then she’s kissing me again, at the same time her hands are on the length of leather at her waist. In no time she is pulling it out of the loops of cloth covering her legs and then pushing them down and off.

I choke a little when I see that, unlike earlier, she is wearing no extra underclothes coverings.

“They were wet after the shower,” she says in explanation, obviously seeing my pause. And then she’s grabbed my hand and is pulling me down the hallway.

At first, I am confused by her actions, until I realize where she is leading us.

To the room with the bed.

She is eager to fuck now. What has changed? I also am eager to fuck, but in spite of my overwhelming need to plunge myself inside her, first one cock and then the other, I do not trust anything so…miraculous. I know I asked faith of her, but first I need to understand more.

So once we get to the bed, I easily heft her onto the mattress and climb atop her. But I stop once I get to her belly, plunging headfirst into her sex with my tongue.

Her petite little human hands come to my head, but she does not pull me away. Instead she begins to caress the ridge along the back of my skull.

I shudder as I dip inside her sweet little cunt with my tongue. The scent of her, along with the waves of psychically feeling her pleasure all but bowl me over. It’s obscene that such pleasure should be possible—

My cocks harden to stone as I continue to pillage and swirl my tongue. She arches and trembles beneath me, and I feel all of it. Sinking in her mind, I feel her shocked delight at having me so large and masculine between her legs, my shoulders hulking as I grab her legs and draw her open even wider to my mouth. It only makes me hungrier for her. I absolutely bury my face in her. In her scent. In her taste. In the soft, wet folds of her flesh. In the erotic shudder of her thighs around my head as pleasure shatters her.

I can barely keep myself in check as I climb up the bed, wiping my mouth on my arm as I go. It takes everything I have not to spill on her stomach, I want her so badly. I want inside her. I want this connection more than I want my next breath.

Will she reject me at the last moment like she did last time?

But no, she looks up at me with eyes bright with shock, still spasming with her pleasure. And then she reaches down herself and grasps my shaft. She lines me up at her wet center.

Tags: Stasia Black Draci Alien Science Fiction