Love Galaxy (The Intergalactic Dating Show #1)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sorin

“ I cannot read your expression.” I clear my throat, my voice suddenly hoarse.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy,” Briar says slowly, obviously picking her words with care. The right corner of her mouth twitches up in a… half smile? “But here, with you, I’m finding it impossible to not be happy, despite, well, everything.”

I wade forward, closing the distance between us. I want to fall at her feet and kiss my way up her entire body, but the red light of the camera catches my eye, and I change my plans. Taking hold of her hands, I tug her gently back into the dark water, until it’s only our heads above the surface. It is impossible to see into the lake, the natural minerals turning it opaque.

“Are you trying very hard to not be happy?” I ask, wrapping my upper arms around her chest to keep her supported, as she is too short for her feet to be touching the cave floor. My lower hands roam over her curves, moving from her hips to her waist and belly, up toward her breasts.

She arches her back, pressing into my palm, as I knead her flesh. Slippery with water, her skin is incredibly smooth and soft, so different from my scales.

“I—” She bites back a moan. “Very hard,” she agrees, her eyes fluttering closed. “Being happy is really putting a dampener on my plans to escape.” Wrapping her two arms around my neck, she buries her face in my shoulder, and I feel the scrape of blunt teeth as she nips me, not hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to even scratch my scales, but the faux bite is like a fist around my cock. I am thrusting upward, trying to rub my bulge against her thighs. “Very hard,” she repeats with a slow smile. Wrapping her legs around my waist, she sinks lower, until only her eyes are above water and her covered quim is rubbing against my encased cock.

My knees threaten to give away, and for a second, both our heads are under water. I fumble to regain my footing, then straighten. She laughs as she comes up for air, releasing a string of bubbles that pop against the surface and cause the water to dance around our entwined bodies.

“Hard,” I agree, my voice rasping up my throat. “And if you keep doing that?—”

“Doing what?” She blinks. “Doing this?” Holding onto my shoulders for momentum, she sinks back down, rubbing against me again. The movement tugs on my slit, and my cock everts.

Briar’s eyes widen, and she glances down as if wishing she could see through the dark water.

Caught between our bodies, my cock throbs, the sudden friction almost sending me over the edge. I cannot think straight. All I know is that I want to see Briar always happy, and so I skate a hand down her soft belly to the mound of her pelvis. Then her eyes widen quite magnificently, and a small eep sound escapes her mouth.

I push aside the fabric of the small pants she wears, and my fingers are met by hairs. I blink, instantly wishing I could lift her from the water and bring her hot core close to my face for a thorough examination. That I cannot see what I most desire is maddening, another fist around my cock as I try imagining what I am touching.

Pink, I think. With red hairs. My mouth waters.

“So, it’s been a while since I, you know, shaved”—releasing my waist, Briar clamps her thighs together, trapping my hand, much of her bravado draining away—“ down there. ” She emphasizes down there even as she whispers, as if to speak about such things is forbidden.

I lower my voice, too. “Why would you shave away your hairs?”

“Because that’s what Human women do. Some women, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons. Mainly, I guess, because men don’t seem to like seeing body hair on women.” And she clamps her elbows to her sides, as if wanting to hide the hairs I have already seen under her arms.

I rock my hips, rubbing my swollen cock against her clasped legs. “Human Males are fools. I love your hairs. They are part of who you are, Briar.”

Another light thrust of my hips has her eyes fluttering closed and her legs parting again, releasing my trapped hand. I continue my exploration, through her hairs, to find wetness that feels more viscous than water.

“You create wetness.” I rub the moisture between two fingers, marveling at my new discovery. There are so many things I do not yet know about Briar.

“For you,” she agrees, her eyes glinting, her body trembling. “I’m always wet for you.”

My cock pulses, and I instantly tighten my hold, desperate to keep from spilling.

She laughs, pure joy once again, and sinks against my chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my throat, my chin, my temple, my lips, grinding against my hand between her legs.

I have one hand on my cock, one hand exploring her quim, and two hands holding her waist, kneading her perfectly smooth, perfectly flawless flesh. I would leave the imprint of my hands on her skin, if I could, so that she will forever be able to see where I have worshipped her.

Fek, I wish I had six hands—one for each of her heavy breasts, too. I bow my head instead and suck one taut nipple into my mouth. She arches against me, her moan filling the cave.

I come from listening to the sounds she makes, my cock jettisoning milt into the dark water. I am almost blinded by the strength of my own orgasm.

“Sorin. Sorin.” She kisses my brow, holding me tight, as my body shudders.

Between her legs, I continue stroking, teasing her cleft open and exploring what’s hidden. The pad of my finger slips over a small bump, and the results are instantaneous. Briar’s fingers dig into my shoulders, her blunt nails scratching against my scales. She throws her head back, her eyes pressed tightly shut.

With the light reflecting off the water, shadows flitter across Briar’s face, illuminating the pale dots that decorate her nose and cheeks, like stars across the night sky. Her hair is darker wet, and it clings to her throat before pooling around her shoulders.

Entranced, I fixate on the small bud between her legs—circling it, caressing it, relishing in the power I hold in my hand. Me. I have done this to Briar.

I speed up my movements, then slow them down, studying her reactions as she grips my shoulders, digging her fingers into my muscle.

“So close,” she pants. “Faster. Faster.”

I obey, keeping a firm pressure, but varying my movements–sometimes small circles, sometimes larger, always focused on her demands.

“Oh!” Suddenly, her body convulses. Her legs clamp around my hand. Her pleasure is beautiful. Stunning. Everything I could ever have wished for and never believed I would have.

This moment, I know, is imprinting itself on my very existence. Briar has altered the course of my life, and I will judge every moment from now until I die against this one event.

I can never return to who I was before Briar. And I will never wish to.

Around us, the water undulates, lapping at the cave walls.

“Do you think we don’t know what you’re doing?” John Smith’s voice bounces off the walls.

Briar splutters, releases my shoulders and sinks under the water. I tighten my hold on her waist, pulling her back up. She spits out water, coughing.

“Fucking hell!” Pink stains her cheeks and travels down her throat. “Pervert.”

She disentangles herself from my arms and swims back to shore, pulling on her dress. Immediately, the fabric sticks to her wet skin, outlining every curve. Interested, my cock twitches, so I hurriedly tuck it out of sight and follow Briar from the lake.

She has her arms crossed over her breasts, and she steps behind me, using me as a shield from the camera.

I puff out my chest and glare into the lens. “How long have you been watching?”

Silence follows. It is impossible to know if John Smith is still watching and refusing to answer, or if he has left. I turn to face Briar. She has her face in her hands and her head bowed.

“We shouldn’t have—” she starts to say, but I interrupt.

“Nothing John Smith can do or say will ever ruin my memory of today.”

“No?” She spreads her fingers and peeks at me through the gaps.

I shake my head, even as a pulse beats in my temple—that is how hard I am clenching my teeth, determined not to show Briar how much I want to kill John Smith. Were he here, I would wrap all four hands around his throat and squeeze the life out of him, as punishment for all the suffering he has caused my Briar.

She releases a long breath. “I need to find some dry clothes.”

Dripping water, I follow her back into the kitchen.

My datapad is releasing a high-pitched beeping sound that has me clutching my ears.

Briar pokes it with a finger, her free hand covering one ear, and so I cover her other ear for her. Lines pinch her mouth, but at her touch, the datapad stops screaming at us, and the screen clears to reveal two paragraphs. One is in a writing which I cannot read but which presumably is for Briar.

“It looks like this task is specifically for you,” she says, her eyes scanning the words. “Hashtag getting physical. Hashtag tell all.” She raises her voice, glancing toward the camera clipped to the kitchen counter. “I think what you actually mean is hashtag coitus interruptus.”

Confused, I frown.

“ Humping interruptus isn’t as funny a joke,” she explains without laughing, as if that clarifies everything.

I hurriedly read:

Sorin,

Briar taught you Human kisses.

Now it is your turn to reciprocate.

Your second task is to instruct your partner in the ways of Ril’os mating rituals.

#GettingPhyscial #TellAll

“I do not know… ” I falter, my heart beating uncomfortably fast.

“It’ll be fine.” Briar smiles, but there is a tightness to her jaw that was not there before John Smith’s interruption. “You’ll think of something.”

“I left Ril when I was five,” I try explaining, my mouth suddenly dry. “I do not know what the Males of my species do when they wish to gain the attention of a Female.” I shift uneasily, hating that I have to admit to such a weakness out loud.

Briar pushes on my chest, and my knees bump into the chair behind me. I sit, and she climbs onto my thighs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and twisting at the waist to look at me. Her wet dress sticks to my scales too, and water from her hairs drops onto my chest.

Like this, our eyes are nearly level, and I bow my head, resting my forehead against hers, wishing I could sink inside her body entirely and hide my humiliation from the cameras.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, her warm breath tickling my lips. “Why don’t you show me something you like instead?”

“The task?—”

“Fuck the task,” she says with venom.

I straighten, confused. “You wish to rut with the task?”

“What? No! It’s an expression. It means ignore the task. I think you should show me something you like.” She squeezes the back of my neck, and immediately I am thinking about her hand on my cock. Or, better yet, my hand on her pearl. I like that very much.

Reluctantly, though, I dismiss the idea, and not only because those are things she does not wish to do while being filmed. More to the point, human kisses are special, intimate, something Briar and I can do together that is not rutting. Kissing is more like a prelude. Or a promise. And scudding fek, I can think of no Ril’os ritual that compares.

I stare down at the datapad, hating LOVE GALAXY for putting me in such a position. Neglected, the screen fades into black as the datapad switches to power-saving mode.

Maybe I could use it to research Ril’os mating rituals. There is sure to be such information stored in the database. Again, humiliation churns my stomach. How do I not know such things? How did I not make it my mission to learn such skills for this very moment?

Because I never thought I would have a moment like this. I never allowed myself to believe I would meet a Female, let alone Briar.

I pull the datapad toward us, and when the screen wakes, I click a few buttons.

“What are you doing?” Briar frowns at the screen, evidently unable to understand what I am typing.

As the datapad connects to Roan’s, I kiss her temple. “This is what I would like to gift you.”