Page 170 of Alien Burn

“You're going to have to touch me eventually, Gol-Vett.”

“I'm memorizing.”

“You can do both.”

He smiled and drew her closer. His palm slid along her ribs, then cupped her breast. When his thumb brushed her nipple, she caught the front of his shirt.

“Like that?”

“You know perfectly well.”

“I enjoy hearing it.”

She tipped her head back when he kissed beneath her jaw. His hand moved down her belly, and her breath caught as he touched between her thighs.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Like that.”

He slid a finger inside her. She pressed her forehead against his chest, gripping his shirt while he moved slowly, giving her time to feel every deliberate stroke.

Then she pulled at the shirt.

“Off.”

He helped her, and she put both hands on his bare shoulders.

His armor was warm. She had known that already, but the feel of it under her palms still surprised her. She traced a ridge from his spine toward his upper arm. It rose beneath her touch, and he lowered his head against her throat.

“That,” he managed, “is a very direct communication channel.”

“Good.”

She did it again.

His hips pressed toward hers. She worked his trousers open and took him in her hand, learning again the weight of him, the heat. His fingers closed gently around her wrist.

“Bed,” he said. “Now. Before I embarrass myself standing up.”

She laughed, then gasped as he lifted her.

He laid her down carefully and finished undressing. For a moment she simply looked. His reddish bronze skin, the rising ridges along his shoulders, the dark hair between the narrow peaks of his horns. He was watching her watch him, and when her gaze lowered, his breath changed.

She reached for him.

He knelt between her thighs instead.

The first touch of his mouth startled a cry from her. She caught his hair, then loosened her grip because she didn't want to hurt him. He lifted his head just long enough to kiss the inside of her thigh.

“You can hold on.”

Then his mouth was on her again, and she did.

He was patient in a way that became almost unbearable. Each time she thought he would hurry, he slowed, drawing pleasure out until her thighs trembled and she could hear herself asking for more.

His hands supported her hips. A horn brushed her skin as he changed the angle, and she arched toward him.

“Dhomhes.”

He answered with his mouth.