Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
LILY
For the first time since I was thrust into this bizarre joke of a reality survival show, I wake up uncertain of where I am. My first thought is that someone put a heavy blanket on me during the night, and I’m groggy and well-rested thanks to it.
It’s only when my yawn cracks my jaw and I try to move that I realize I’m not at Ellison’s apartment, and the weighted blanket I thought was hanging over me is, in fact, my Draegon partner, Zan-De’Eer.
The heat is the next thing that hits me. Not just the memory of last night, but the heat I’ve managed to keep at bay this long, which is back full force, worse than it ever was.
“I thought you touching me was supposed to make it better,” I groan.
Zan moves slightly, repositioning us so that he’s no longer draped over me, giving me a polite distance. “It won’t be sated until I fill you up with my cum,” he says matter-of-factly.
I stare at him, too asleep to do anything but be shocked, despite the need that his words have spiked in me yet again. It’s getting to be a cruel joke at this point.
“You look surprised,” he says, tracing his talons over my cheek.
I lean into it, surprising both of us. And when I open my eyes, he’s watching me carefully, like he’s memorizing every single little expression I make. It makes me uncomfortable to be scrutinized, to be measured in such a way, and I force my gaze away, back to the chair.
Which I let him eat me out in last night, right. That wasn’t a safe place to look. Fantastic.
“Until you have my cum deep inside you, the heat will continue. It’s our species’ way of making sure that we continue.”
“You don’t have to keep saying it.”
“Well, you seem to be confused about the scientific components of the heat.”
He scratches his chin thoughtfully, his hair spilled all over the pillow we share, and I realize I have no memory of going to sleep last night.
“You tore my clothes off,” I say.
“You liked it.”
I did, but I’m not about to tell him that, so I just glare at him through narrowed slits.
“You’re very adorable when you look so angry at the fact that I satisfied you.”
“Maybe I am.” I shrug a shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t think it was fair.”
“Fair to whom? I was the one taking care of you, if I recall correctly.”
I don’t know what to say to that because it’s not false. And then I start to feel a little guilty for not reciprocating. Haven’t I always hated when partners didn’t even bother to get me off?
My mouth twists to the side as an idea comes out of nowhere, slamming into my brain like a meteor. This would be quite the sonic boom of a move if I can pull it off.
“Yeah. It’s not fair,” I say again, a teasing edge to my voice, and I sound much more confident than I feel. Thankfully, I don’t need him knowing just how nervous I am about this entire endeavor I’m about to embark on. Nope, that little tidbit can be kept to myself.
“You begged me for it. You wanted it." His chest heaves as he inhales deeply. "Do you regret what happened?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the P. “I don’t regret it at all.”
His talon leaves a trail of heat down my skin where he touches me. “You fell asleep and didn’t even teach me how to cuddle.”
“Yet we woke up cuddling,” I say, taken slightly aback, my plan momentarily forgotten as I tilt my head and consider him. “You were holding me. That’s what cuddling is.”
I look down at my naked body, my nipples perking up as I remember the way his fingers felt on them last night. Not that I usually cuddle naked, because that leads to—
I trail off, arching my eyebrow.
“You know I always have complained about my partners—”
“What?”
He looks confused by my train of thought, and frankly, I don’t blame him. I’m a little bit of a mess today. And the heat isn’t helping. Being naked next to the huge Draegon my body wants him and my brain starting to isn’t helping either.
But man, I saw what he’s packing in his pants and that was enough to get me excited for probably the rest of my day and life. Which might be quite short considering what exactly we’re doing here.
“Yeah, it’s not fair when men have sex with me and get off and then they don’t do anything for me. I usually have to finish myself after they leave.”
“Where are these men?” he says, anger clear in his voice, his eyes narrowing to slits of fury. “What are their names? Are they on Earth? Did they live near where you lived? I would like to speak to them about this.”
The way he says speak tells me that he doesn’t mean any kind of conversation that finishes with them alive.
For some reason, the idea of Zan raging bloody havoc on my former sexual partners makes me burst out laughing.
“No, stop,” I say, unable to contain myself.
The change in him is practically instantaneous. After I laugh, he goes from looking like he’s about to commit horrible atrocities on behalf of my clit to smiling right alongside me.
“I meant I never wanted to be a partner in bed,” I say, pointing to the mattress needlessly, “who leaves the other person unsatisfied.”
“Why do you think I was not satisfied with you?” he says, going still. “I was greatly satisfied. I’ve never had a better satisfaction.”
“Okay,” I say, slowly dragging out the word, trying to think it through. “Maybe the word ‘satisfied’ isn’t translating correctly. I meant I want to make you come too. It’s only fair.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Well, far be it for me to stop you,” he says, leaning back, putting both hands behind his head. “If you’re so concerned about being unfair to me, be my guest. Do as you will with me.”
“Oh, well if you’re not going to beg, then I’m not interested.”
“Take my cock and that pretty pink little mouth and do with it what you will,” he growls.
His hand moves so quickly I don’t even see it until it’s at the base of my neck. He pushes me down slightly, and a thrill of excitement goes through me because damn, I like this side of him.
“That’s not begging,” I grind out, trying to resist the urge to do exactly as he says. I’m wet just thinking about it. In fact, I don’t think I ever wasn’t wet. I’m pretty sure I’ve been wet the entire time I’ve been on this planet.
So maybe I should stop thinking about how wet I am, because it just makes the whole situation worse.
“Take my cock in your mouth like a good little female,” he grinds out, pausing between each word. “Please.”
I’m horny enough that his “please” is doing enough work for me that all I can do is grin up at him before I smooth my hands down his thighs and take in the thing that’s been erect between us for the last week or so.
Unlike me, he’s hairless, and while he didn’t have any complaints last night about the small amount of hair I prefer to keep on my body, I’m suddenly self-conscious after the realization that he is so different from me.
What if he thought I was gross? What if that’s why he didn’t want me to reciprocate until I brought it up this morning?
The thought hadn’t even occurred to me until now that he might find me disgusting compared to his species, because as annoyed as I’ve been with him, I never once found him disgusting. I think he’s fascinating. I like how different he looks from me.
I pull his pants down further, and the massive ridge of his cock finally bobs free.
“Holy shit.”
“Hallowed poop?” Zan repeats, clearly flummoxed.
“What’s wrong?” he says, leaning forward, putting one index finger under my chin to force me to look up at him.
“You do not have to do this if you do not want to. I do know that I commanded you around, but it is only because the scent of your desire increases when I boss you. Please know that I would never ask you to do this if I did not think that you wanted to.”
“You don’t have any hair.”
“It displeases you,” he says quickly. “I understand why—I’ve never seen a female with hair between their legs like you have, but now that I have, I’m obsessed with it. It holds your smell in such a way that is intoxicating and addictive, and I understand that it might disgust you that I am—”
“What?” I say, staring at him, completely confused.
Beneath me, his cock has begun that strange movement, brushing against my chest as I stare up at him, perplexed, trying to focus on what he’s saying and not the huge alien appendage that’s practically waving itself back and forth against my chest. Distracting, to say the least.
“Are you disgusted by my lack of hair? I have plenty on my head, but I do not have any anywhere else.”
He looks distraught at the idea, and I realize how ridiculous I’m being.
“No, I was wondering if you thought I was gross because I had hair down there.”
“I cannot get enough of your hair down there,” he repeats gravely.
“I don’t like it when you say it like that,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head.
His cock jerks, and we both groan. It shouldn’t feel so good against my skin, and it’s not as if my chest has ever really been an erogenous zone other than my nipples, but man, there’s something about the way we feel against each other that’s just—
I rub my chest against him.
He moves his finger back to my neck, pushing gently. “Are you going to tease me, or are you going to do this?”
While there’s fire in the question, his eyes are gentle and kind, and I know with all the fiber of my being and complete certainty that if I told him I changed my mind, that I wasn’t interested anymore, he would stop.
And he wouldn’t be angry with me; he wouldn’t be resentful like other men I’ve been with.
There’s a care in this moment that makes my heart ache with the purity of it, in spite of this is one of the least pure situations I’ve been in. Intergalactic reality TV, being forced to mate with an alien? Yeah, not exactly pure of intention.
“You don’t think they’re recording the inside of this, are they?” I ask, suddenly terrified as everything we’ve done together comes crashing back to me.