Chapter 26 I Obey #2
“That was … fuck. That was life-altering.” Her palms grip my face, and she pulls my mouth to hers with surprising force.
When she breaks the kiss, her eyes run hungrily over my body.
“God damn you’re beautiful. You look like a statue.
” Her teeth drag over her bottom lip, and she whispers, “A beautiful fucking statue.” With a finger pressed to the underside of my jaw, she says, “Now stand.”
I obey, not entirely sure what is happening.
She looks up at me from her perch on the bed, head tilted back, face perfectly level with my hips.
“Good alien,” she says with a quirk of her lips.
Zar’vok. The muscles around my spine tighten, and I think I am beginning to understand why she enjoys that so much.
Cool fingers slide down my abdomen, over the medical wrap, and to the sensitive skin just above my leathers. Her eyes go wide when they catch on the head of my already weeping cock, trapped between my waistband and stomach, and she licks her lips with pure, carnal desire.
“Vok’talja,” I curse under my breath as understanding dawns. She is going to be my undoing, of that much I am certain.
“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” she says gently.
“Never.”
My head is spinning. Heart racing. Her hands are on the laces of my leathers.
My erection springs free. Her eyelids flutter.
The urge to touch her is overwhelming, but I give her what I have never given anyone—complete control over my body.
I am terrified and captivated. Drunk on the way she looks at me.
Her searing gaze narrows in on the appendage above my erection, and her curiosity builds. I assumed our species’ anatomical differences were nearly non-existent, but her expression tells me something different.
“It is my virga,” I say, carefully watching her reaction.
Her eyes flick to my face. “Virga?”
“A sensory and sexual organ.”
“What’s it for?”
“Pleasure.”
Her pupils expand. “For me, or for you?”
“Both. It seeks out the electrical impulses of nerve endings and—”
Amara gently touches the writhing appendage. It sucks onto the end of her finger, and her lips form a silent, ‘oh’. “I think I’m going to enjoy that,” she says.
In an attempt to remain calm, I start speaking. “I have little control over what it doe—”
Shockwaves of pleasure surge through me and cut off my speech as Amara wraps her hand around my cock. I grit my teeth and tense to avoid climaxing right then. It is too much. Too good. I want more and less at the same time. My vision narrows, and I hiss out a breath.
Her hand looks small but feels massive as she strokes me from crown to root. The combination of vulnerability and pleasure tugs at my very soul. I have never been so exposed. So vulnerable. Entirely at the whim of another. My legs shake, and I have to steady myself with a hand on her shoulder.
She flashes me a pleased smile and raises a second hand to join the first. A roaring fire consumes my skin. I am coming undone. Breaking at the seams. Falling apart in her hands. My hips buck involuntarily as my virga latches onto the space between her knuckles.
I move to meet her strokes, every second building a blissful tension as I reach the space between torment and rapture.
Is it supposed to feel this good?
A flash of pink is all the warning I get before her small, soft tongue swirls over the head of my cock, sweeping up the beads of precum she has coaxed from me. Throbbing, pulsating euphoria forces an urgent cry from my lungs.
Smoldering eyes meet mine as she wraps her perfect lips around the head of my cock, and takes me into her mouth.
Gods.
I whimper, unable to speak in the throes of near ecstasy. She swirls her tongue. Hollows her cheeks. Moves with abandon. I have never experienced anything—
I have to slow her pace.
Knitting my fingers into her hair, I try to slow her speed, but it does nothing to calm the building pressure.
I am too close. Her hands work the base of my shaft, moving in tandem with her mouth.
The sight of her rosy cheeks and stretched lips imprints into the marrow of my bones. A sight I will never forget.
Tension builds in my groin, squeezing through my center.
“Zet naklá,” I beg, “zarpulá.” I am completely at her mercy, praying she does not stop. Oh gods, do not let her stop.
My hand loosens in her hair as the pleasure builds past the point I thought possible. Fear begins to grip me. It is too much. Too good.
She plunges forward, taking more of me into her mouth until I doubt she can breathe. Her eyes do not leave mine. I am falling into their depths. She swallows around me, squeezing me with the back of her throat, and she moans.
I break. My muscles tremble. A whimper escapes me. And the pleasure takes over. Wave after wave of my pulsing release hits her throat, and I watch in absolute astonishment as she gulps it down with hungry abandon.
The moment her lips release me, I am little more than a trembling mess, ready to collapse. But her tongue flicks out, and, still holding my gaze, she carefully laps up my length, cleaning away the evidence of the power she wields over me.
I sink to my knees and take her face in my hands, kissing her like it is the last thing I will ever do, tasting myself on her tongue and groaning at the shocking intimacy of it.
“Tir’rek tak ennivegit, a vek verla jahv’nek,” I whisper, holding her face and speaking the words of my ancestors. Words that have not been spoken for generations. Words that barely convey the truth that burns in my chest.
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, the question in them clear.