Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
NICOLE
The alien who kidnapped me is about to eat me out. He's the most annoying guy I've ever met—and also the most complicated.
His lips brush mine downstairs, and I tense. He glances up at me, eyebrows quirked. “Nic-coal, we have barely begun.”
“I… I know. But it's a lot.”
He stands up fully, water running down the planes of his chest in streams. The sight of all his tight muscles flexing makes my mouth run dry. I need to focus on him and what he's going to do to me, rather than let Logan keep holding me back.
He strokes my inner thighs. “Is it too much?”
“A little. But… it’s mostly good.”
He leans over and uncurls my hands from ripping out clumps of grass either side of my hips. "Put your fingers in my hair. Press me down for more or tug me up for less.”
I nod, eyes filling with tears. He's being so patient with me.
He lowers back into the water, guiding my hands to his head as he comes up between my legs.
It's strange seeing him there, arranging himself.
His elbows jut out beyond my knees,, his forearms resting on my inner thighs, applying pressure to keep my legs wide.
His hands keep me pressed open, fixing my hips in place, and I curl my fingers into his hair as if he's a rogue horse.
And then his lips latch onto my pussy. Arture has serious suction power, his strong chin and the bristles of his beard pushing against my opening and tongue lashing my clit.
I rock back and forth and he grabs my hips, lifting them in the air slightly.
His eyes half close, glazing as if this is the greatest pleasure he's ever known.
He noses his way in, pushing his tongue into my vaginal opening, then pulling it out and licking upwards, swirling around my clitoris with his tongue.
I lose track of what he’s doing for a time, waves of something intense surging through me.
It borders on being painful because it’s just so, so intense.
I writhe against the flattened grass, curling my fingers into his hair. He's insatiable, licking, suckling, his tongue flickering and lapping, his face moving into different expressions.
He meets my eyes and smiles, then raises his head. "How does it feel? Good?"
"It's a lot."
"I can tell, you keep wriggling away. I'm applying pressure to some very sensitive parts. Is it too much?"
"I don't know.” I don't know anything about my own body. Prickles of shame spike up my skin, tears pulsing behind my eyes.
He gently takes my wrists, keeping my hands where they are on his head.
“Nic-coal, I'm here. We're together. I want to do this, would adore the chance to bring you to completion, and not just so I can brag about it for all time as my biggest accomplishment.
You deserve this, someone who… who will give you everything you give to others, who will take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. Until then, I'll have to do.”
His words fill something inside me, lending me courage. I nod, guiding his head back between my legs.
Instead of overthinking, I focus on Arture.
His tongue is like nothing I've ever experienced, plunging in deep and then lapping the bundle of nerves of my clit.
He's dogged, and every scrape of his beard sets the sensitive skin of my thighs alight.
He's moaning too, as if every one of my twitches is doing it for him. Well, it's certainly doing it for me.
Sounds escape me and I clamp my mouth shut, but still little gasps and whines break free.
He lifts his head from his feast. “I want to hear you. Shout. Scream.” His smile turns devilish. “You won't be able to help yourself. Besides, no one will hear us.”
He's right, kind of. We're in our own little island of bright twinkling fairy lights under a star strewn sky, swirls of galaxies throbbing high above. But there could be other humans out there. Listening.
“I don't know, I… I don't know.”
His palm strokes the skin of my stomach and thighs, firm but gentle. I can feel the strength in his hand, controlled and precise, as if he’s focused on each individual muscle of my body. “I want to hear you. You're safe with me, Nic-coal. I swear it.”
Safe. It pings deep in my soul.
I close my eyes as he slides his hands down my legs, his palms gliding over my skin with a careful rhythm, as though he’s memorizing every line, every curve, one cool smooth metal, one warm and rough.
His hands are large, almost covering the width of my thigh, his touch both protective and reverent.
I let out a soft sigh, surprised at how good it feels to let go, to let someone else care for me.
His hands rise up my body, fingers spreading wide as he kneads along my sides, working his way up my hips to my breasts with a steady pressure that leaves me feeling weightless and relaxed. His touch is somehow both gentle and possessive, and I find myself leaning into it, savoring every second.
Surrendering to the sensations, I sink deeper along the ground, his touch both soothing and invigorating. A soft groan escapes me, and I catch his low chuckle, warm and unguarded.
His hands graze my breasts with a featherlight caress, and I can't help but gasp. His huge fingers caress to the tip of my nipples and back down again, gentle, soothing, teasing.
I open my eyes and the tenderness of his gaze makes my heart skip a beat.
I’m so vulnerable like this, spread out in an open field, but his hands stay steady, sure, sliding beneath my shoulders as if I weigh nothing at all.
I let my muscles loosen, breath sinking deep, and the moment I do, he adjusts instantly, drawing me back toward the edge of the springs with quiet care.
As he opens my legs further, he drinks me in. His left eye is dark, his right bright blue as a beacon, both wide, hopefully with amazement.
“Your mypussy is beautiful. You're beautiful,” he says.
“It's actually not one word, it's just—” He thrusts his tongue and fingers of his left hand into me. “Oh, fuck.”
He chuckles and the sound bubbles inside me, filling me with light. His eyes meet mine, intense and searching, as if he’s looking for a sign.
My breath catches, heart hammering in my chest, and I nod ever so slightly, inviting him to do more.
His fingers move in and out of me, tongue pressing warmth onto my clit and sending streaks of heat across my body. It’s like he’s savoring the moment, testing, exploring, as if I’m something precious, yet there’s a restrained intensity, like he’s holding back an entire storm of emotions.
He's waiting for me. Well, if he wants noise, he's going to get noise.
I let a moan escape, and it seems to bounce off the ship and race across the grassland.
His fingers fuck faster, tongue lashing around my clit, and each push lights up my nerves.
I'm sopping wet, relaxed and awash with all the new sensations, his steady finger fucking getting faster and faster, more intense.
I can't help but let out a small gasp in time with each thrust, getting louder and louder in time with each pulse of overwhelming pleasure.
“Scream my name,” he whispers. Not an order. An ask.
“Arture,” I say. Then, “Arture!” as he curls his fingers inside me. Suddenly I'm writhing, caught on the sides of the mountain of pleasure he's finger fucking me to, desperate to climb higher. I can see the peak rushing towards me but this is where it usually stays, out of reach.
“Arture,” I beg. He needs to help me.
The alien’s tongue bathes my clit, his fingers working, grunts and satisfied smacking sounds ringing in my ears. He's feasting, enjoying himself immensely, watching me slide into oblivion.
But I'm not there yet, I need… I need something.
Then he pulls back, easing off just as I was stuck on the peak.
“Arture,” I whine, bucking my hips, searching for friction.
He places his warm metal hand on my stomach, sliding down through my slick wetness. I tip my head up and stare at his rounded fingers, how dexterous they are.
He burrows them inside me and they press outward, shifting and changing, vibrating. They hit the spot inside me and fill me with light, and as Arture moves those vibrating fingers in and out, I throw my head back and scream my orgasm.
It's a powerful tidal wave, sweeping away everything I am. Pulses ride me, shaking me uncontrollably, a wave of pure pleasure.
Through it all is Arture's warm hand on my hip, keeping me safely tethered. And his presence allows me to scream out loud as I come.
Once the waves abate, I lie back, muscles shaking with aftershocks. What's he going to think of me now?
He heaves out of the pool, steam rising from his body and pants, and gathers me in his arms.
“You’re magnificent,” Arture whispers.
I snuggle against his broad chest, allowing myself a little extra moment to just be. “I hope you’re happy with your feedback.”
The grin that crosses his face is perfect: cheeky, cocky, and pure Arture. “I did enjoy it, yes. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding me? Thank you.”
He shakes his head slowly, suddenly serious. “No. I’m the grateful one.”
Sliding his arms underneath my back and knees, he lifts me easily, cradling me close, and walks slowly up the gangplank of the ship as if he’s savoring the moment. Inside the lights are dim, shrouding us in our own little nest.
He lays me down on my bed, on top of the covers, then stands back as if admiring his handiwork. As well he should, because I'm a quivering melted mass of nerves.
“Are you going to brag now?” I ask, half joking.
“Only to myself, when I need a confidence boost. Now. What would you like to do?”
I hold his gaze, but the words won't come. It's hard for me to ask for what I want. It’s risky, too open. Easier to speak for others than actually raise my own voice.
His mechanical eye gleams as he looks down at me. “Do you want more pleasure?”
I squirm. “Not that that wasn't enough. Or not good enough. Far from it. I'm sorry.”