Cam stood there, his eyes heated with desire, his pants tented by his erection. And what an impressive one. On the sofa when she’d sat on his lap, the long, thick hard length of him had pressed against her bottom.
He stepped close to her and tipped her chin up then ducked his head and slanted his mouth over hers. She went up in flames. This man could kiss! Perfect pressure, not too wet, not too dry. She clung to his biceps as he lifted her off the floor.
When her feet touched the floor again, her heart felt a jolt.
He pulled his shirt over his head. In the glow of the single lamp, his bright-blue skin darkened to midnight. Shadows outlined ripples of muscles in his chest and abdomen. She couldn’t resist dragging a finger across his nippleless chest. He sucked in a breath.
She bit her lower lip and smiled then stepped back, unbuttoned her poet-style blouse, and let it drop to the floor then peeled off her skirt, standing there in her matching bra and panties. Fire flashed in his eyes. Changing her underwear had been a good call.
She hadn’t planned on this happening, hadn’t given it serious thought, but a fantasy? She’d entertained a few. Upon getting home from the spring fling, she’d swapped out her boring plain white bra and blue flowered cotton panties for a matching set of black satin and lace.
He pulled her to him for another kiss that left her weak-kneed, and then he nibbled and kissed his way to her throat and then lower to skim the tops of her breasts. His scratchy chin and jaw sent tingles rushing through her. The brush of his fangs against her skin caused her pussy to contract. His otherness, his alienness was such a turn-on.
No, him. His smell. His looks. His grin. His kiss.
Hell, he was just hot. Except he wore way too many clothes.
She unzipped his pants, and his cock sprang out. She stifled a chuckle, having forgotten he didn’t wear underwear. She shoved his pants to his knees and stroked the prize. Underwear was overrated.
She marveled at his balance as he toed off his boots and kicked off his wadded pants without teetering, and then they kissed their way to the bed and tumbled upon the mattress.
He pulled the straps of her bra down to her elbows and fumbled with the hook. “How do you get this thing off?”
She giggled. “Bras have been befuddling men for generations.” She reached behind and undid it. Her breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He kneaded and stroked, strumming the nipples, then ducked his head and sucked a bud into his mouth.
Sweet sensation hummed.
As he sucked, he tugged her panties down her legs, and then he touched her pussy, tentative at first, then with a firmer, more confident caress that had her rocking against his hand. He slipped a finger then a second, into her wet channel and her greedy muscles clutched tight. His thumb teased her engorged clit sending jolts of need arcing through her.
She caressed his back with long, loving strokes. His skin looked scaled, but the texture was smooth as glass, contrasting with the bumpy length of his spine. She trailed her fingers up and down, and he shuddered. So he was sensitive there… She did it again, and received another growled exhortation.
His long, thick cock was also ridged with a striation resembling a zipper spanning the topside. She explored the thick line, discovering it was extra sensitive. He groaned as she stroked. A pearl of dark precum beaded at the tip of the crown. She swirled her thumb over it, wondering what he tasted like. Different from a human?
She’d started to slip down to find out when she realized he was stroking her thigh. Clarity pierced through the sexual daze as she counted hands. He had one on her pussy and another on her breast, so that left—
A third?
Her head came off the pillow.
His tail had curled around to caress her thigh. She stifled a snort, amused and relieved he hadn’t grown appendages she hadn’t known about. Reaching out, she stroked the length of his tail. Playing with a man’s tail counted as a first. Cam lifted his head. His gaze met hers, and then he curled his tail around her hand.
“Does it feel good when I stroke like this?” she asked.
“Every way you touch me feels good,” he said.
They kissed long and deep. Their touches grew feverish and fast. Moans became low and throaty. Tension and heat rose. Sweat dampened skin.
She rolled toward the nightstand and rummaged for a box of condoms. I hope these things don’t have an expiration date. She didn’t know if she could get pregnant by an alien or catch an STD, but better safe than sorry. Having sworn off men until this evening, she hadn’t needed birth control. She tore a packet open and reached for his cock.
“What’s that?”
“A condom.”
He eyed it dubiously as she rolled it onto his erection. They shifted position, an awkward tangle of arms, legs, and tail. She giggled, and he chuckled, and then they slipped into sync. He moved on top of her and between her thighs, fitting like he belonged there. Rubbing the crown of his cock in her wetness, he guided himself to her entrance and pushed inside. Delicious fullness and satisfying pressure filled her when he seated himself.
He began to thrust then, and she discovered the glory of a ridged hard-on. Every stroke teased her clit. Every withdrawal teased again. Her core burned with delicious fire. His breath flowed warm against her ear, his growled exhortations even hotter. She dragged her fingers along his dorsal ridge and smoothed her palms over his back, slick with perspiration.
Heat and tension wound, wound, wound, and then snapped with a ping that sent her spiraling into ecstasy, engulfed by waves of pleasure. He thrust faster and harder, growling as he orgasmed, the contractions of his cock driving her rapture to a new high.
After-quakes shuddered through her as she lay beneath him, his face buried against her neck, his heart thumping. His exotic scent teasing her senses, and she inhaled, drawing his musk into her lungs. He smells better than lavender.
With a groan, he started to disengage. “Hold on!” She reached between their bodies to grab the condom around the base of his still-tumescent cock while he withdrew. He flopped onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. He brushed the damp hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her temple. She snuggled next to him, more contented than she could ever remember. The sex had been awesome, but they’d shared a connection beyond the physical. There’d been first-time awkwardness, but even that had been warm, affectionate. Pleasure had been a mutual give-and-take. She pressed a kiss to his arm, still damp with perspiration. She never wanted to move; she could stay like this forever.
He’d made her feel desirable and respected—something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“You might be my fantasy man,” she said. “Are you sure you’re real?” Just as she’d been wishing for a handyman, he’d fallen out of the sky like a shooting star. I got my wish.
Silver eyes darkened. “I never dared to even dream about somebody like you.”
“I’m ordinary.”
“Extraordinary.” He stroked her cheek. “You inspire me to believe all things are possible because if I can meet you, then anything can happen. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re smart, beautiful, gentle and kind and amazing.”
His compliments warmed her from the inside out but also aroused discomfort. She didn’t accept praise easily; however, the sincerity in Cam’s gaze convinced her he meant every word.