Page 8 of Abducting the Alien

August watched Clay’s thin gray fingers stroke the ridges of his tail.

Once he’d accepted—too easily, he realized—Clay was a real alien, August had spent the entire night telling himself his attraction came down to the obvious: Clay was beautiful. A little strange, and with a tail, but still beautiful. But that didn’t explain the way he’d been drawn to him before he knew what he was. Even when August found him beside that tree, thinking he was just a hot human.

“My body seems to want that too,” August admitted, closing the distance between them. “More than my body. My mind, too. Every part of me.”

Clay’s expression softened and he dropped his tail, raising his hands to rest on August’s forearms.

“My body feels weird when I step away from you,” August said. “When I shoved Jason out the door, I felt a little sick. I figured I’d just had too many pigs in a blanket. And when I went to get that first aid kit, it felt like I’d swallowed a really hot rock. The kind they have in saunas, you know?”

“No,” Clay said. “I don’t."

August shook his head, his hands trembling as they grabbed Clay’s. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that my body wants me near you. And I want to touch you everywhere, because it feels good.”

“That’s the bond,” Clay said. “Humans can feel it, too. I guess. That’s what I recall from my education, but I’ve never bonded with anyone. You’re my first.”

“First?”

“Yes. My parents have an idea of a mate for me back on my planet, but I saw you in a dream, years ago. I came here to find you, and I crashed on your plant. I am sorry.”

“I can get a new plant,” August said. “So, you’ve never… been on a date, or what? What does not bonding with someone else mean?”

“It means I have never touched someone like this,” Clay said, releasing August’s hand to place his hands on August’s chest. “I was saving myself for my most compatible mate. And I think that is you.”

Clay’s eyes darted down to August’s hand, wrapped around the growing bulge in the front of his pants. Clay licked his lips with a thin black tongue, panting as he breathed out. August moaned quietly. “Fuck.”

“I would like to learn from you,” Clay said, taking one long finger and rubbing against the front of August’s pants, which were so strained by his hard cock that any more pressure might rip them in half.

“Well… We could start with kissing,” August said.

“Kissing,” Clay said, nodding. “I would like to try.”

“Okay.” August leaned in slowly, his breath glancing over Clay’s lips as he gave him every opportunity to pull away. But Clay didn’t move. He stayed perfectly still, watching August through wide, black eyes until their mouths finally met. It was soft and gentle, more of a lingering brush than a kiss.

When Clay still didn’t move, August pulled back. “Is that okay?”

Clay nodded. “Yes. I am enjoying that feeling.”

August laughed softly. “Really? You’re not, um… Here. Do what I do.”

He leaned in again, kissing slowly before sucking and nibbling at Clay’s bottom lip. He pulled back to check Clay’s expression. His eyes were closed, but he was purring, so August licked across the spots he’d bitten. And again, with his lips parted so he could suck Clay’s lips into his mouth. The spot Clay had bitten earlier was sweet, almost like frosting.

“You taste incredible,” August said.

Clay didn’t respond, only purred. August didn’t want to push it, but Clay seemed interested. Maybe if he made an encouraging noise, Clay would feel more comfortable. August moaned a bit.

Clay pulled back. “Did I do it wrong again?”

August let out another soft laugh and stepped closer. “No, but you can move your lips too, if you want. Kissing works best when both people’s mouths are involved.”

“I can do better,” Clay said.

Clay finally mirrored August’s movements, letting their tongues meet. His was rougher than August’s, textured, sending a shiver through him. The thought of that same tongue against his body made his cock jump against Clay’s cool skin. Their kiss was clumsy, a little sloppy, but perfect. Another pleased sound rumbled from Clay, and August’s heartbeat slammed against his ribcage.

August pulled away, moving to his door to press a small circle on the handle.

“Was it better that time?” Clay asked.

“Fuck,” August said, rushing back to Clay’s arms, kissing him hard. “Yes. You’re great. You’re perfect.”