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It was also at that exact moment that I climaxed, my sac swelling and my cock shooting seed into the tight clutches of my trousers. I groaned into Cherry’s mouth as pleasure ripped through me, my hands spasming against her breasts, my hips rocking helplessly against her bare belly.
Disgraceful. I had no experience with females, but even I knew that a male was supposed to erupt inside her, not thrusting foolishly against her, soaking his clothing just because she’d been kind enough to let him touch his unworthy tongue to hers. My cock pounded like a second heart, twitching and continuing to give hot little spurts in time to Cherry’s breathing.
“Silar,” she panted, tearing her mouth from mine. “Did you just…”
“I’ll let you get back to your bath. Water should be warmer now.”
“Silar…”
“I won’t interrupt you again.”
17
CHERRY
Iwas starting to get used to Silar’s rapid departures, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I watched his retreating figure through the window and let out a frustrated breath. Having him touch me, his hands on my skin, his hips hitching against me had been… explosive. I was sure he felt it too, based on what I was certain had been a spontaneous alien orgasm… Or at least something big happening in the vicinity of his trousers.
But then he’d just disappeared. Again.
Clearly, communication is not my husband’s strong point.
Except for…
I want to put my tongue inside you.
You couldn’t get much clearer communication than that. There had been a broken sort of hunger in his voice when he’d said it. An honesty so raw and ragged that had made me want to give him everything.
I’d been close to coming myself.
I was, even now. Shakily, I dipped my fingers between my legs and I gasped at the molten wetness I found there. I leaned back against the wall, pressing my other hand over my breast in a pale imitation of Silar’s callous-roughened grip.
Stroking my clit in fast, firm motions, I came almost as fast as Silar had.
The orgasm did little to clear my head or help my mood. If anything, afterwards I just felt… gloomy. The room was too empty, the air too still.
I was probably an absolute dumbass for thinking it, for feeling it, but…
I missed Silar.
Well, he clearly wasn’t missing me, considering just how fast he’d hightailed it the hell out of here. It was pointless to get all up in my feelings about this situation. I needed to get back to looking at this as a more distant, formal arrangement. I was here to escape Magnus’ crime organization and to help Silar out with whatever it was he wanted me to do. I wasn’t here to catch feelings, especially if those feelings could have the undesired effect of pushing Silar away from me.
What if, one of these times after I kissed him, he walked away and he never came back?
My throat pinched painfully. I tore off my top and splashed back into the tub, sloshing water over my face so I could pretend the moisture wasn’t from tears. The water was lukewarm now. Not exactly pleasant, but better than before. I finished washing, using some of the soap and shampoo I’d brought with me, and sat stewing in the water for far too long.
Silar didn’t come back.
Doesn’t matter, I told myself as I dried off and dressed in new clothes.
Doesn’t matter, I repeated as I laundered my pyjamas, hung them to dry outside, made use of the outhouse, and ate a late brunch alone.
“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered aloud when night began to fall and Silar still hadn’t come in.
“What doesn’t matter?”
“Oh!” I whirled in the kitchen to find Silar standing in the doorway, his huge figure blocking the last of sunset’s rays, turning him into a velvety shadow. “I didn’t hear you!”
“You were banging the logs around and muttering to yourself,” he told me. “Probably hindered your hearing.”
