Page 118
He pulls out of me and laps at the mess I made, his eyes closed as if relishing it.
When he finishes, he moves back up my body, his head resting against my shoulder. He’s heavy, but I can take it, my hands moving around him, holding him to me tightly. I can feel his cockheads against my stomach, hard and throbbing.
I can take care of that for you.
His breath hits my chin, and then I see him, his hands moving through my mind. If I start, I fear I won’t be able to stop.
I trust you.
You shouldn’t. I cannot control myself. It is too soon…
His words trail off, and he exits my mind, leaving it buzzing. So I do nothing but hold him, allowing his full weight against me as I doze off to sleep.
The Eretharian atmosphere feels denser than Earth’s. That much is obvious. The moons must be closer too, and their star must be incredibly bright for it to shine through. As I’ve been told, we’re not in the same universe as Earth. It’s similar but not the same. And the portals aren’t a matter of folding space or any kind of physics humans understand.
When I asked Eissa about space travel, he simply shook his head and said, ‘No. We don’t do that.’
It was so final. So…interesting.
It’s not something I’m willing to push, but being on my own so often has left me bored and curious. There are no books here. Eissa left me with a tablet that I can’t really navigate and with the direct order to stay out of trouble.
Which I have.
Mostly.
I’m still feeling little punches and pulls of guilt for not telling Eissa about Jyrion’s visits, but the truth is, I’m terrified about what he’ll do. There’s history there that I don’t quite understand yet. Jyrion seems pretty set on getting under my skin.
It’s like he doesn’t want me to believe Eissa. To trust him.
To feel safe.
I know better than to tell a Vyastil like Prince Jyrion that Eissa and I can hear each other’s thoughts, but it’s a wonder he can’t sense how close we are. He’s got an agenda; I just don’t know what, and I’m curious how much of what he says is lies encased in small truths, or the other way around.
Luckily, the next day, Eissa doesn’t have to run off. I wake in the morning, basking in his soft touch, claws running over my skin as he traces the shape of my body. I feel a little surge of need as his velvet-soft skin skims over mine, but he doesn’t seem to be working toward our usual conclusion.
He takes cum, of course. He settles between my legs and sucks me off with gentle pulses of his long tongue wrapped around my dick, milking me for every drop. But unlike Rathyn—greedy for it over and over—Eissa seems satisfied with just once.
Or maybe he’s settled?
Maybe this has something to do with his former human.
Maybe I’m not enough.
I don’t let myself think about that too hard.
We have a small water allotment which Eissa has allowed me to use to bathe, and I find him sitting outside watching Gerald tear around the yard, moving logs and boulders to his heart’s content.
‘Do kradun get lonely?’ I ask as I sit.
Eissa frowns at me. ‘I don’t understand.’
I lift my hands to tell him that Jyrion was surprised a Vyastil as busy as Eissa would have a pet like Gerald, but that would blow my cover. Instead, I lean back on my elbows and don’t answer him. My eyes close as I let the warmth of the Eretharian sun cascade over my face, my lungs filling with sweet air.
It’s still a little humid from the storm yesterday, but it feels nice. I shudder when Eissa pushes some of my hair back from my forehead, then taps his claws along my cheeks and nose. I know he’s tracing my freckles.
‘You are beautiful,’ he signs with purpose when I finally look at him.
I can’t help but smile. The way he makes me feel, god, I wonder how I lived without it for so long. How am I supposed to cope when all of this is over and he sends me home? He is the Vyastil-human liaison, so I know he’ll still have business on Earth, but it’ll be different.
