Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9) (6 page)

BOOK: Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9)
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“Wasn’t what I meant, but yeah, I noticed.” And she leans in and rubs her face against my cock.

I groan loudly again and then bite down on my knuckle, staring at the open doorway. Even though the storage cave is tucked away into the back of the tribal cave, I do not want someone coming to see what strange creature is moaning and grunting back here.

I do not want anything to interrupt Mah-dee’s studying of my body.

“Mmm,” she breathes, rubbing the length of my cock against her cheek, and then rubs my cockhead against her soft lips. “I don’t guess you’ve ever had a girl touch you like this before, have you?”

“Never,” I breathe. I clench a fist at my side, because her touch makes me want to spill. Already my sac is tight against my body, my cock throbbing with the need to release. Yet I do not want that; I want her to keep touching me forever because it feels so very good.

“Then let me be the first to blow your mind,” she says, looking up at me. She’s got a wicked little smile on her face as she slips her tongue out and licks the head of my cock.

I stagger backward, almost losing my balance. There is a primal sound rising in my throat that I must work to swallow, but Mah-dee only grins and licks the head of my cock again, her small, smooth tongue lapping up my pre-cum.

And I cannot stop watching. I am utterly entranced by her pink mouth working over the head of my cock, her fingers gripping my ridged length, the look of pleasure on her face as she tastes me.

Did I think that kissing made today the best day of my life? My imagination was not ready for this. Nothing can be better than this.

But then she moans as she drags my cockhead along her tongue, sucking me into her mouth. Her hand slides between her thighs, and I smell the musky scent of her arousal.

It seems my imagination is a poor thing after all.

She pulls her mouth off my length and I feel the loss of her tongue keenly. Instead, she strokes her hand up and down my length, pumping me. Her gaze moves over my body and then she looks up at me. “All right, I need to ask about the elephant in the room. What’s this?” She gestures with her other hand at my spur. “I have to admit that’s new to me. And I’ve been trying to be cool about it, but like…I need to know.”

“It is my spur.”

“Super. What’s it do?”

Do? I shrug, covering her hand with mine so she will stroke me harder. “It is there. I do not know that it does anything.”

“Huh. Human guys don’t have those.” She tilts her head, studying it. “That’s not going to make sex impossible, is it?”

“The other humans have not complained to their mates,” I tell her.

“Hmm. Fair enough. Can I touch it?”

“I would rather you continue to touch my cock, but you can touch it, yes. I am yours to touch wherever.”

She looks up and wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Don’t make me test that theory.”

Her words make new lust surge through me. This female is fearless. I did not realize how appealing such a thing could be.

I remain still as her hand moves from my cock and caresses my spur. “It feels hard,” she says, curiosity in her voice. “How strange.”

Her fingertips are ticklish, and my cock jerks in response to her feather-light touches. “It is, yes.”

“I wonder what sort of evolutionary purpose it serves, you know? There’s a reason for everything, and I can’t figure out the reason for this one.”

“Does it need a reason to exist?” I cannot concentrate on her words, not with her small fingers stroking my spur like my cock.

“I guess it will remain a mystery for a bit longer,” she says, and then leans in to give it a lick. “Can I play with your tail?”

My tail? I shudder at the thought, because then I truly will spill my seed. The underside of it is beyond sensitive. “I…would explore you, now.”

Her eyes brighten. “Would you? I love it when a man volunteers.” She gives a little shimmy and slides her tunic over her head, tossing it to the side. She wears the strange strap across her teats that I have seen a few of the other humans employ, and removes it quickly before shucking her leggings and tossing the leathers aside.

I move closer to her, admiring her body. She is small—all the humans are—but her body seems to be sturdier than the others, her thighs thick and full, her belly rounded. Her scent is light and musky, but lovely, and her teats are large and plump, tipped with rosy nipples that draw my attention.

I brush a knuckle over her pale skin, and she feels smooth but different than sa-khui skin. For a moment, I am overwhelmed. It has been a long time since I have felt the warmth of another’s skin against mine. I did not realize it until I touched her softness. Living as a hunter with no mate is a lonely life, but a hunter in exile? It crushes my spirit. I swallow hard to rid myself of the knot in my throat. “I like the way you feel.”

“Do you?” There’s a slightly nervous note in her voice. She gives a little wiggle and puts her hands on my arms, stroking them. “I’m not too weird to you?”

“Perhaps I like weird,” I tell her, gruff. She has no protective ridges on her arms or her round belly. She is vulnerable and soft everywhere. And yet… I like it. I like touching her softness. I like her smooth, pink skin and the tiny tuft of fur between her thighs. And I like her big, bouncy teats. They draw my hands and I cup them, fascinated. The females of my tribe do not grow as bountiful here as the humans do.

Mah-dee sucks in a breath, her nails scratching at my arms. There’s a glazed look in her heavy-lidded eyes as I touch her, and I am fascinated by her response. I want to do more. I caress her heavy teats, tracing their shape. My thumb skims over the tight, pink bud of one nipple, and she makes another choked sound. So I do it again, stroking the nub with the pad of my thumb, over and over as I watch her face.

Her lips part and she closes her eyes. Another soft, throaty sound escapes her, and then I smell the musky scent of her arousal in the air. She likes it when I touch her teats like this. Is it like my cock, then? Because when she rubbed her face against mine, I nearly came undone.

I would like to do that to her.

So I drop to my knees and pull her body against me.

She makes a tiny exclamation, but her hands go to my shoulders. Mah-dee runs her fingers through my hair even as I bury my face between her teats and begin to lick her flesh. Her breathless moan of pleasure is encouraging, and I nuzzle at her soft, soft skin until I find one of those pink nipples and tongue it.

Her hands tighten in my hair and she gasps. “Ohmigod.”

“Tell me if you do not like what I do,” I say between nips to the skin. Even her nipples are soft. My own are hard and rough, but hers feel tender under my tongue, and I lick the underside of one, dragging my tongue over it.

She shivers and moans against me. “I don’t know if that’s humanly possible.”

Her excitement—and the tight grip of her hands in my hair—encourage me to do more. I glide a hand down her side, caressing her hip and bottom. She is plump everywhere, and smooth, and touching her like this makes my cock strain, desperate to be buried inside her warmth.

This is what it is like to have a mate, I realize with wonder. Holding your female in your arms and pleasuring her. Knowing that she is yours for all time. I am filled with longing so intense that it takes my breath away. I imagine Mah-dee in my furs every night, and waking up with her softness curled up against me. I imagine her body rounded with my kit. I imagine her by my fire, giving me those sharp, teasing looks of hers even as she nurses our son in her arms.

My hands tighten on her skin.

I want that.

I want
all
of that.

I squeeze one rounded flank, and then slide my hand over her thigh. I want to touch that thatch of fur between her thighs, and the pink folds it hides underneath. I want to discover the third nipple I have heard the hunters talk about. The sa-khui women do not have one, and I can only imagine what it feels like.

If she is aroused by my tongue on her teats, how will she react if I put my mouth on her there? I groan at the thought, and press my face in the valley between her teats again, trying to keep control. We should not be here, in the storage room, naked and exploring each other. I am in exile. My duty is to hunt and remain scarce around the caves.

And yet…I cannot seem to stop touching Mah-dee.

I will pleasure her first. Then we will stop.

I push my hand between her thighs, cupping her mound. The fur here is not soft like the mane on her head, but tight with curls. It is wet, too, damp with her arousal, and my mouth waters in response. I want to taste her. I want to see what that wetness tastes like on my tongue. But her thighs are quivering against my hand. I do not want to push her too far. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you kidding me?” She sounds as breathless as I feel. “Just now, when you’re getting to the promised land?”

“Land?”

“Never mind. Just keep going.” Mah-dee wiggles against my hand, rubbing her cunt against my palm. “I’ll just be quiet.”

I snort. “You have not been quiet since I entered this cave. I doubt you shall start now.” She feels like all wet folds under my hand, soft and fragrant and slick. I drag one fingertip along the seam of her cunt, tracing it. “Are you sensitive here?”

“Oh my god,” she breathes. “You have no idea how much.”

“I want to learn.”

Mah-dee’s hand knots in my hair, her grip tight. “Then keep going.”

I do. I explore her with my fingers, paying attention to each gasp, each hitch of her breath, and I learn her body. I find the entrance to her core, where she is slickest and hottest, and cannot help but push a finger into the opening, imagining it is my cock. Her soft cries and the way she jerks against my hand tell me that she is imagining the same. I want to push deeper, to thrust into her and see her body quiver, but…I want it to be my cock, not my hand. So I search for her third nipple instead.

I find it tucked into the front of her folds, a tiny nub hidden in the slick softness. She moans loudly when my fingers skate over it. I want to bring my hand to my mouth and taste her, but I want to keep pleasuring her, too. The need to please her wins out over my own selfishness and I circle my fingertip around her nipple, watching her expression. Her face is tight, her brows wrinkled together as if she is concentrating hard, her lips parted.

She is so lovely to look at that my mouth waters again.

There is another way to taste her, then.

I look around. There is a pile of extra furs in one corner of the storage room, behind a few baskets. I grab Mah-dee by the thighs and heft her in my arms as I get to my feet. She makes a small noise of protest, but it is muffled—she does not want us to be found, either. I carry her to the furs and set her on her back, and before she can say anything, I push her thighs apart and my mouth is on her. I give her a long, thorough lick, making sure to flick my tongue over her nipple. She tastes as sweet and musky as she smells, and I am filled with Mah-dee’s scent, her flavor.

It makes me hungry for more.

Mah-dee whimpers. I feel her legs tremble, and then she hooks one thigh over my shoulder. Her hands grip my horns. She is not pushing me away. She wants more.

I am eager to give her more. With a hungry growl in my throat, I lick her again. And again. I use my tongue to give her pleasure, trying to make her produce more of those little cries that make my body tighten in response.

“I’m so close,” she tells me, pulling on my horns. “Use your fingers, too. Thrust into me with them.”

Her demanding tone fills me with a fierce response. If she wants more, I will give her everything I can. I double up on my ferocity, tonguing and licking at her nipple. I slide my fingers along the slippery folds of her cunt, seeking out her opening, and when I find it, she cries out again. She wants me to use my fingers? I shall. I thrust into her with one, and it is nearly my undoing.

She is so wet inside, so warm, and so very tight. I can feel her cunt clench around my finger in response to my invasion, and I imagine how it would feel around my cock.

I am very, very close to losing control. Gasping, I rear back, abandoning my efforts to pleasure her. If I touch her now, I will spend before my cock even comes close to her cunt.

And I want to spend inside her.

I press a hand to my forehead, willing my body to obey. My cock throbs incessantly, the head coated with my own slickness. I dare not lick my lips, because then I will taste Mah-dee. My hands are still wet with her juices, and I want to taste them even as I know I must not.

She approached me and wished to mate. I must please her and show her that I am worthy of her attention. Spending all over the furs instead of inside her will not do.

Mah-dee makes a small noise of protest. “What? Why’d we stop? Is someone coming? Because I know it isn’t me, if you know what I’m saying.”

I do not know what she is saying, actually. And I do not care if someone is approaching. At this point, I am too far gone. “Give me a moment.”

“I don’t want to,” she says in a teasing voice, and her toe nudges my thigh. “I was so close.”

“Me too,” I grit. “That is my problem.”

“Oooh.” Mah-dee sits up on her elbows. I dare to glance over at her, and it is nearly my undoing. She is lovely to gaze upon, her inner thighs still open and wet and inviting. She bites her lip as she looks over at me and tilts her head. “I don’t think that’s a problem at all, see. Because I want to come, too. So if you’re waiting for permission, you have it.”

“Permission?” If I were not in so much physical agony, I would find her words amusing. Does she think I am waiting for her go-ahead? I am trying to control myself so I can make it good for her. So she will ask me to mate with her again and again.

“Yeah. Permission. It’s a fancy word that means have at it, big guy.” And her toe slides over and brushes against my cock.

The control I have been struggling with disappears in an instant. I surge forward, covering her body with mine. She opens her thighs wide, welcoming me, and her arms go around my neck. My mouth lands on hers, and then we are kissing again, lips feverish as I press my cock against her entrance.

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