Chapter 16
Mariska
Making love to an Aderian was not the same as having sex with a human man.
Having sex with Jeltom, now that was next level, for lack of a better description.
I was not prepared for the slow, reverent kind of assault he’d make on my senses: from the careful way he undressed me, to the strokes of his calloused hands and silky tongue.
Every touch was another fan to the flames, another way to drive my desire higher. And he refused to be rushed.
I clawed at the smooth, anthracite skin on his shoulders and briefly touched the scars that marked his recent near-death.
The rest of him was a work of art, all muscle and shimmering skin, not an ounce of fat.
All of him was smooth too, with no body hair except for that long braid that tempted me to grip it and hold on.
“So pretty,” he growled against the hollow of my throat.
His hands seemed eager to shape the heavy weight of my breasts and equally tempted to smooth over the pudgy softness of my hips.
I knew I was short and stocky, that the fat on my bones sat around my waist like a soft band, but he did not seem to care.
In fact, he seemed to like how soft I was everywhere.
Perhaps the slow seduction was an exploration, and I shouldn’t be impatient. I just wanted to explore too.
When he bared my core to his eyes, he took a long moment to take in my folds and the neatly trimmed patch of hair at the top.
I squirmed and felt awkward, but I didn’t need to be an empath to see how incredibly turned on he was by looking at me.
His pants were still on, and the bulge between his legs was utterly obscene, it was that big.
“Undress. Let me see you too, fair’s fair,” I urged, and he obeyed, rising to stand beside the bed and carefully placing his pistol on my nightstand.
He was a warrior down to the core, his eyes quickly tracking to the window and door to ensure everything was secure.
Then, he undid his belt with a whisper of noise, and my core drew tight and slick at that sound.
Why was it so damn sexy to watch him pull that belt free?
He didn’t wear anything beneath the leather pants, I learned.
When he undid the front fastenings and dropped them to the ground, his cocks sprang free—both of them, and both extremely erect and impressive.
The heads were flushed purple, the shafts that same anthracite as the rest of him but lined with thick veins.
The top shaft was perhaps a little longer and thicker, but the bottom one seemed to curve up slightly, and my whole body tingled as I contemplated how that would fit.
“Oh…” I hadn’t even bothered to read about Aderian women.
Did they have two holes to match? I didn’t think so.
So that bottom cock, was that supposed to go where I thought it was?
My legs clenched together, part fear, part anticipation so tense I ached.
“You’re really big,” I said, stating the obvious.
He didn’t mind, his grin bright and sudden as he climbed back onto the bed with me.
“But you were made to be mine, mate. We are fated, across stars and time, we would always find one another. We will fit.” His hand stroked along my thigh, teasing my skin until I opened for him.
“I will prepare you, Mariska. Trust me.” And I did.
That was a fact. I’d trusted him almost from the start, from the moment he’d growled a disinterested “no” when I tried to hire him to fix my grape-pressing machine. Jeltom would always look out for me.
“Okay,” I sighed, and I let him arrange me on the bed.
He spread my legs wide, his cocks jutting proudly, tempting me to stare, and stare a lot.
Then he licked my folds, and I couldn’t think.
He suckled, nibbled, and flicked with that clever tongue until he figured out exactly what made me tick.
I flew apart when he found the right rhythm against my clit, and shattered a second time on his fingers as he curled them deep inside me, forcing me to stretch.
By the time he rose over me and dragged my hips into his lap, I was limp from pleasure, dazed by it.
“That’s it, sweet mate,” he assured me as I twitched back from the press of his cock against my opening.
“The lower one, the small one first, you can take me.” It was impossible to resist looking down, and I stared in wonder at how pretty it looked: his upper cock jutting proudly over me, the lower one pressing into me, stretching.
His skin was that shimmering anthracite, somewhere between black and silver.
I was pale, nearly white in contrast, and shockingly tiny when gripped by his big hands.
His angle shifted, his lower cock slid deeper, and then the upper one came down against my clit.
It rubbed, slick, warm, oily with its own secretions.
Stars marched across my vision, and my body arched as I moaned.
Oh, fuck, that was good. How had I not considered that option when I pictured us fitting together?
As the lower cock—which definitely did not feel small—sank deep into me, the upper one speared my folds and stroked heat and wetness across the sensitive bundle of nerves.
He rocked us together, a growl rattling deep in his chest. “So good, so wet, my sweet. Come for me. Can you do that?” All he had to do was rock back and forth, thrusting deep and rubbing against me in all the right places—inside me, against my clit—while he caged my body with his and made me feel safe.
I came with a scream, clenching tightly around him, squeezing so hard I nearly pushed him out.
He growled, shoved himself roughly back in, and lifted my leg higher against his chest to open me wider.
“Oh no, I’m not done with you,” he warned me.
Contrary to his words, he pulled his lower cock back out, and I moaned, because now I was suddenly too empty, and that wasn’t right either.
He pressed the upper cock against my core, this one thicker, warmer.
“This one is for mating,” he said, and I wondered what he thought the other one was for.
I’d have to ask later. When he pushed the bigger cock into me, I felt it, but I was slick and prepared after three orgasms. It didn’t hurt, even though I felt fuller than I’d ever been.
As he slid that one deep with one smooth thrust, the cock that had just been in me, slick from my juices, slid between my butt cheeks and nudged against my back passage.
He didn’t push in, but it stroked across the sensitive nerves there the same way the upper one had stroked my clit.
It was naughty, it was amazing, and I knew I’d never last. This time, when he began thrusting, I could tell that it didn’t just feel good to him, it felt like a mountain rising, a wave cresting.
He was going to come this time, and he was taking me with him.
I came hard, overwhelmed by all the nerves he was touching, all the places his cocks stimulated simultaneously.
“Jeltom!” I screamed, hands digging into his arms as I clung to him, my core growing tight again.
His hips shifted hard against mine, cocks kicking, and both erupted with seed.
Most of it came from the one filling me—or at least it seemed that way—but in my delirious state, it was hard to tell.
It spurted in firm jets, warm and silky, the lower cock coating my buttocks.
He ground himself deep, holding me tightly to him until he was completely spent.
As the seed began to cool and dry on my skin, he slowly pulled free, and I felt a rush of wetness gush out of me.
His head was lowered—chin to his chest—as he watched this, that sexy half-smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Then he spread my legs, pushing them back so he could get an even better look.
“So sexy, mate. I wish you could see this.” His fingers stroked through my open folds into the wet, gaping hole, and I shuddered, too sensitive to bear the touch.
“Ah, I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, Mariska,” he promised when he saw me tremble. I knew he would; I didn’t doubt it for a moment.