Chapter 8 #2
He picked it up and I unfolded myself from the floor and crossed to him, which I told myself was simply faster than making him come to me.
He turned me by the shoulder and guided me gently over the edge of the bed, pressing my chest into the mattress.
My dress was lifted, the cool penthouse air meeting my bare skin.
His fingers slid between my thighs.
I stopped breathing.
He parted my folds with the same unhurried deliberateness he brought to everything, and I felt the glistening evidence of my arousal transfer to his fingertips with no particular drama, as if my body had simply forgotten whose side it was on. My face burned hot against the bedding.
“Raiza,” he said softly.
“I know,” I managed.
The satisfaction in his exhale was warm rather than cruel, which was somehow worse.
He gathered what he found and brought his fingers to the base of the plug, coating it slowly and thoroughly, and I pressed my forehead harder into the mattress and devoted myself entirely to making no sound whatsoever about that.
Then the press of it against my bottom hole. The stainless steel was cool and smooth and patient, while his hand was sure and steady at my lower back.
I exhaled sharply as it seated, the stretch of it different from what I knew, blunter and more deliberate, something my body registered and responded to before I had any say in the matter. I felt it settle and stay. Warm almost immediately. Constant in a way I could not account for or ignore.
He eased me open, and there was no rushing it. There was a moment where I was convinced it was impossible and I cried out at the burning pain that came with the plug pushing into me, stretching my bottom hole wide open, and then a moment where it popped inside me and the ache relented.
The weight of it was substantial inside me, foreign in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I could feel my pulse between my legs, a throb that matched the ache inside me, the fullness of the plug making every sensation more intense.
He stroked my back, a long, soothing motion that made my skin tingle. “Breathe,” he murmured.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.
The exhale left me trembling, and something inside me relaxed. The plug shifted slightly with the movement, and I gasped at the sudden, startling pleasure that shot through me.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and warm.
His fingers traced the curve of my backside, following the contour where flesh met the smooth metal. “You look perfect like this.”
I made a sound that was supposed to be indignant but came out more like a whimper.
His hands slid up to my hips, gripping with that same quiet confidence he always had, and he urged me to stand.
The movement made the plug shift again, sending another wave of sensation through me, and I gasped softly, trying to cover it up.
“Walk for me,” he said.
I shot him a look over my shoulder, but there was no mockery in his eyes—just that calm intensity that always made me feel both exposed and strangely safe. I took a step, and then another. The tail swayed behind me with each movement, the soft fur brushing against the back of my thighs.
It felt obscene.
It felt incredible.
I made it to the full-length mirror at the far end of the room before he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
The reflection was almost unrecognizable—the woman in the mirror with her dress hiked up around her waist, a silver-white tail protruding from between her legs, her eyes wide and dark with desire.
His hands slid around my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. “Beautiful,” he murmured against my ear, his thumbs tracing circles on my hips.
One hand drifted lower, fingers finding my clit with practiced ease. I jerked against him, the sudden pleasure overwhelming after everything else. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back.
“Look at yourself,” he whispered, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. “See what you’ve become.”
I couldn’t look away from the mirror—my flushed face, my lips parted in silent pleasure, the tail swaying gently as his fingers worked me into a frenzy. The fullness of the plug made every touch more intense, every movement more meaningful.
It didn’t take long for his fingers to drive me to the edge, and when I came it was with his name on my lips and my hands clutching at his arms, my body shaking with the force of it. He held me through every tremor, his grip steady and reassuring, his breathing heavy in my ear.
Afterward, he carried me back to the bed, laying me down with surprising tenderness. The tail remained in place, a constant reminder of what had just transpired. He stretched out beside me, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me.
“You’re going to wear it for me,” he said, not a question but a statement of fact. “Whenever I ask you to.”
I nodded, too spent to argue, and far too satisfied to care about the implications.
His smile was small but genuine. “Good girl,” he said again, and the praise warmed me more than I wanted to admit.
As I drifted toward sleep, the weight of the tail was no longer foreign. Just familiar. One more thing that was simply how things were now.
* * *
Later that night, he slid a plate in front of me and it simply looked like a square brick of cheese and red sauce of some kind. I looked at it quizzically at first and he caught my hesitation.
“It’s lasagna,” he said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
I glanced down at it and back up at him with the same perplexed expression. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to explain himself. This absolutely looked like a heart attack on a plate.
“I take it you’ve never had Italian food then,” he replied, and I shook my head.
“It wasn’t really on the menu out there in the woods,” I countered, and he smirked.
“Have I steered you wrong yet, my pet?” he asked.
“No,” I replied bashfully. “It just seems like a lot of cheese.” I added.
“Inside this fancy gluttonous treat is sausage and ground beef, as well as a rather decadent heaping portion of ricotta and mozzarella cheese,” he explained.
“There’s cheese packaged inside of cheese,” I said flatly.
“Technically, it’s packaged between several layers of pasta,” he corrected, smirking as he did so. His eyes practically glimmered with his excitement, and I had to admit that even though he was an alien, he was really quite handsome when he smiled that way.
“Where did you even find a recipe for something this terrible for your arteries?” I questioned.
“There was a really old cookbook stored inside a glass cabinet that I came across several years ago. I’ve tested out a number of recipes from it and found most of them to be quite good,” he explained.
I looked back down at the square of pasta and cheese with reservation.
Before I could reach for my fork, Talyn picked it up and cut a bite from the edge.
Steam rose where the layers had separated.
He held it out across the table with the air of someone who had already accounted for how this was going to end.
I leaned forward and blew on it before I opened my mouth and took that single bite.
I practically moaned as I devoured that single forkful. I spent far too much time just staring down at the plate before I said anything about it. He’d been right and now I was going to have to tell him. Finally, I swallowed my pride because I didn’t want to wait any longer to take another bite.
“That is way too good. That shouldn’t be allowed,” I said hoarsely, already reaching back for seconds.
“Told you so,” he replied. He didn’t even try to hide his pride, but I didn’t blame him.
I ate that whole plate and even went back for another slice.
When I was finished, he surprised me with something he called gelato for dessert and by the time we ate a bowl of that together, I felt like I was so full that I might burst. It was a strange feeling after getting used to being hungry all my life.
The two of us walked out onto his balcony and sat together under the stars.
The tail swished between my legs and I blushed thinking about it again.
The moon was bright and very nearly full, which was quite pretty to behold.
When my food finally settled, I snuggled in against his chest, wanting to hide from the chill of winter that was beginning to set in.
Up here, the breeze was colder. He pulled a soft blanket up over my thighs and tucked me in while I was still on his lap.
It wouldn’t be much longer until the land was hidden in snow.
It dawned on me that this would be the first winter that I wouldn’t have to shiver through.
I wouldn’t have to put on every layer of clothing that I owned just to stay warm.
I had food, shelter, and a growly but mostly kind alien at my side.
The more time I spent with him, the more I appreciated how there was a human side of him that emerged on occasion when we were alone together.
There were several times when we were interrupted by those he led.
They delivered daily reports or any emergency intel to him when necessary.
Any time he interacted with his alien comrades however, he turned into someone I almost didn’t recognize.
His words were harder, his body language and tone used to taking command of a great number of his people through conquest and battle.
He turned into everything that my people had feared, and the affection that I’d become accustomed to receiving from him all but disappeared. He treated me as if I were simply his human pet and nothing more than that.
I didn’t quite know how to handle him when he was that way.