Chapter 25 #3
Say what you will about alien sex dens, but they know how to make sure their companions can be ready for sex with little preparation ahead of time.
My Khedean pleasure ring had cost me objectively too much, but it had been a non-negotiable.
Alet Trident wouldn't have an auvril dancer without a ring, and the principle was the same: it didn't, as a rule, get me off – although wouldn't that have been nice?
– but it did assure that I could roll out of my bed and into someone else's with little trouble or forewarning.
"You will still – prepare yourself," murmured Araxis, his mouth skating against the hot skin of my shoulder. "While I watch." It was a question, although he was trying to say it like a command, his thumb stuttering over the flushed skin of my throat.
I nodded, feverish under his touch. "I'll do whatever you want," I breathed.
I slicked up my fingers, sliding my hand back toward my hole.
"Have you watched videos like this?" I could probably work myself open in my sleep at this point, particularly with the ring doing most of the work for me; I hadn't trusted many clients to do it, especially not with the number of aliens who had talons or who thought that human toughness meant something closer to invulnerability.
Araxis's breath hitched, despite how dark it was in our room. Then again, his night vision was a lot better than mine. I was sure to arch my back a little more, just for him. "Yes, I have seen videos," he rumbled, voice low, his teeth skimming against my skin – hungry.
"Then why don't you tell me what to do?" I said, chest tight, my heart fluttering against my ribs. "Command me. Exert control." I let my fingers trace the pucker of my hole, feeling a little jolt of pleasure even at the simple touch – fuck, it had been awhile – but I didn't do anything else.
"I –" Araxis started, then seemed to struggle to find words. Even his touch had stilled on my neck.
I could help with that. "I bet you'd want me to start with one finger. I bet you'd want me to fuck myself open like that while you started touching yourself."
"Yes," Araxis said, his hand twitching at my neck. "Yes, Sashen. Start with one finger. Touch yourself."
So I did, slipping one finger inside of my entrance as I reminded the muscles of my body how to relax when I asked them to.
It felt easy to fuck myself open, bit by bit; and at the same time, it felt new, like doing this with him, for him, had changed the act fundamentally.
As if I could see it through his eyes, his hand on my throat, his breath skating across the skin at the back of my neck.
"Are you touching yourself?" I asked, slipping my finger out. I couldn't tell: Araxis was too still behind me, too quiet except for the rasp of his breath. "You should tell me about that."
"Hm. Add another."
So I did, my own entrance pliant and cooperative, relaxed and slick from the lube and the pleasure ring, and Araxis slid in closer so that I could feel his own hand shifting against his body as he brought himself off, his forearm brushing mine as I thrust my fingers into myself.
I thought he was going to stay quiet, but then he said, low and urgent, "I worry sometimes that because my language lacks the words for affection you expect, that I've failed to communicate how I feel. "
Not really the dirty talk I'd been expecting, but it must have worked for him judging from the way he was shifting behind me, the little catches in his breaths, how he was trembling as he crept closer and closer to his first climax.
"You are – exquisite, Sashen," he breathed against my skin, which prickled immediately with goosebumps.
I twisted my fingers, pushing them in deeper, feeling myself get slick and ready for him.
"You are the centre of my universe. When I say I cherish you –" in abayan, "it means something that does not translate to either of your languages.
I love you –" in English, "and I do love you –" in Standard, "and also words fail entirely.
You are so –" his hand was moving more rapidly, "so generous and kind and good, beloved.
Eager to please, but all you need to do to please me is to be as you are.
You're utterly perfect, Sashen, and – you're mine.
" The fingers of his hand spasmed just a little against my neck, and I let a breathy moan escape my lips.
Those words, like little bursts of starfire, were better than caresses, better than his mouth on my skin.
"I'm yours," I panted, still pumping my own fingers into my hole, although they were nowhere near sufficient, just stretching me open for what would come.
"Entirely. I'm yours – and I'm ready. I want your cock inside of me.
I want you to fill me up. I want – I want to be your first and your only.
I don't want anyone else to ever touch you; I don't want anyone else to ever touch me.
I want – only you. Only us. Nothing else.
The two of us forever." And I knew I was babbling; I knew it was fantasy, just pillow talk; I knew that, and I was shocked to realize that there was a part of me that meant it.
That I couldn't imagine anyone else touching me; I didn't want that.
I wanted Araxis with an intensity that felt hungry, elemental, possessive.
Who was I?
But that thought evaporated as he made a pleased, heated sound, teeth grazing my shoulder blade as his body curled against mine in a convulsion. And then I felt the wet length of his cock nudge against me in the dark.
I let my fingers slip free and rolled over so that I could touch him and kiss him hungrily, there late at night in our room, my hand grasping his cock, already slick, and getting it wetter as he hissed into my mouth, all teeth and heat and possession.
I shifted my wrist to get a better grip on him, and his hips ground into my touch, as needy and demanding as the sounds he was making.
He slipped one of his hands around my hip, touch delicate and careful as he pressed one finger to my hole, exploratory.
A sharp sound caught in my throat, the pressure from the pad of his finger and the gentle way he was touching me enough to make my cock jerk between us, especially as he rubbed his finger back and forth over the pucker of skin, all slick and waiting for him.
Araxis tore his mouth free from mine, nuzzling against my neck. "Roll over."
Who was I to disobey? I let go of his cock and moved, spreading my knees wide and arching my back in the way that he'd been admiring back in the kitchen.
I heard the breathy sound of disbelief he made as he moved to kneel behind me, one hand pressing my lower back, feeling the curve there.
"Tisqen, Sashen," he hissed, leaning forward to kiss and then bite the skin at my hip, the muscle of my ass.
"You are –" His voice was hoarse, raw, as if he'd been crying or as if he'd had some sort of revelation.
Which struck me as particularly fitting. "Oh, am I revelatory?" I supplied. "Just wait until you're inside me." That was a guess. He might not even like it, and maybe the way he liked it wouldn't be the way I liked it, but I figured the confidence couldn't hurt.
A trill choked free from his throat, and then his hands grabbed my hips, commanding, as he tugged me back, knocking my knees a bit wider so that I was spread out before him, there in the dark, my head cradled in the nest I'd made with my forearms. The length of his cock slid between my cheeks, rubbing against my hole, and I felt myself jerk a little under his touch.
"How slowly should I go?" he asked, sounding choked, like it was hard to force words out while he was gliding his cock along my body.
And fair: I was having a hard time even thinking as his slick skin moved against me, the ridges of his cock pressing into me, rubbing deliciously over the sensitive skin. Stars above, I liked this part; I thought I'd probably like the next part even more. "You aren't going to hurt me. I'm ready."
His fingers, tipped with the start of talons, barely pricked the skin of my hip as his hands flexed. "Sashen, please. A real answer."
How could I deny him when he asked so nicely?
"You can – try a couple inches and check in?
" I was panting now as he continued to rub himself against me, my hips rocking back into him, the feel of his hands on my skin narrowing my focus to his palms, his fingers, his grip, and the slick slide of his cock against me.
One hand dropped away as he positioned himself, and I felt the tip of his cock nudge my hole and then press inwards.
I reminded myself to relax, opening myself to him, as he pushed in, stretching me in a way that fingers never could.
An obscene sound – plaintive, desperate – slipped from my mouth as he slid into me, one of his hands snaking forward to plant itself between my shoulder blades.
Araxis stopped moving, his cock hot and so wet inside of me – he felt different, there in my body, and this felt different, knowing it was him – as he gave me time to adjust, time to check in. But I didn't need him to check in.
"Do you – trust me to know my limits?" I gasped out beneath him, feeling him resting inside of me, the pressure of his body inside of mine sweet beyond all measure.
The hand on my back flexed, and he exhaled. "Yes. I – yes."
I wanted him to be seated in me. I wanted every inch of him, so I rocked back against him, and he made a broken little sound as his hips met the curve of my ass, his length filling me up, a line of heat opening my body, unlocking me.
I was panting, pressed up on my forearms, feeling the hard pressure of him inside of me, but Araxis was quiet and still. "Is that – Is this okay?" I asked, chest heaving, thighs burning from the angle I was at. "If you don't like it, we can –"