Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
I glance down. I tend to sleep hot, so my nightgown has no sleeves and is cut low. My tits are practically hanging out of the neck, and my nipples are prominent through the thin fabric. I should probably be embarrassed, but I still feel comfortable around him. If anything, I kind of want to tug the neckline lower, just to see his reaction. “It’s your fault for trying to break into my house.”
“I wasn’t trying to break in. I was trying to jerk off on your door.” One claw grazes my shoulder and then trails down my arm, as if he’s reluctant to stop touching me. “I don’t want this male sniffing around getting ideas about you.”
“He’s not going to get ideas.” I step a little closer to him, putting my hand on his belt. I’m giddy with the power I feel at this moment. Knowing that Jrrru is wild over me gives me a sense of control, even if he’s bigger and stronger. It makes it easy to flirt with him. “You never answered if I could kiss you or not, by the way.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “My mouth isn’t like yours.”
“I don’t care.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
That is…achingly sweet. He’s worried about disappointing me? So many kisses are disappointing things, but we keep trying them anyhow. Only an alien would think they need to be perfect at the task—a human would just shove their mouth against mine and hope for the best. “You’re worrying too much. I’m only going to be disappointed if we don’t kiss. It’s not as if I’m some great expert at it anyhow. The last person I kissed was a long time ago and back on Earth, and he was a terrible kisser. I can’t even remember his name, just that he had a really dry mouth.”
“And now I have yet another thing to stress over,” Jrrru murmurs, gaze still locked on me. “Dry mouthing.”
I chuckle, and the sound is high and girlish to my own ears. “Why don’t you kiss me first and then I’ll tell you if your mouth is dry?”
“You’re determined, aren’t you?”
“I really am.” Then I pause. “Unless you think you won’t like it.”
His hand drifts back to my hair, then the side of my neck, and he strokes it with light finger-pads. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Then quit stalling,” I whisper, and tilt my face up to his, waiting.
Jrrru leans in, and he’s so tall he practically hunches over me. It looks vaguely uncomfortable, but his hand on my skin is warm and he gazes down at me with fierce concentration. Then, he closes the distance between us and kisses me.
Well, kind of. His mouth is on mine but it’s clear it’s not quite an embrace. It’s also clear he’s not entirely certain of what he’s doing.
So I take the lead. I touch my hand to his jaw and angle his face slightly, and I kiss him. I press my lips to his in a light, caressing fashion. I give him soft, gentle pecks that take the stress out of this moment. That there’s nothing needed but relaxing and enjoying. I can feel some of the tension leaving him, and I continue my task, peppering his strange mouth with kisses. He definitely doesn’t feel like a human man—his lips are almost nonexistent and thin, and the bristles of his fur brush against my lips when I kiss him. But his breath is warm, and his embrace feels good, and so I keep kissing him, making each press of my mouth last a little longer than the prior one.
And when I feel a little bolder, I nip at his lip.
That gets a reaction. He groans, and a shudder ripples through him. Pleasure rushes through me, followed with a sense of power, the knowledge that I’m in control, and I can make him erupt with those sorts of noises. It makes me want to do more. I bury my fingers in the thick fur on his cheeks and kiss harder, nipping again and again with lips and teeth, and when his mouth parts, I stroke my tongue against one hard canine tooth.
He groans again, clutching me close, and then it’s as if the dam breaks for both of us. In the next moment, we’re kissing hard, open-mouthed and full of tongue. I forget all about the strange fit of his mouth to mine, or his thin lips and sharp teeth, and I’m lost in the taste of him, the feel of his raspy tongue against mine, and the sheer pleasure of the intimacy we’re sharing.
It doesn’t matter that we don’t fit perfectly. All that matters is that we’re enjoying ourselves.
When we finally break apart, he nuzzles his cold nose against my brow and I sigh heavily, my knees strangely weak. “Too…dry?” he asks, panting.