Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
His sentence is not grammatically correct. My implant must be malfunctioning. My whole body is malfunctioning. He is making electricity surge through my entire being, from my toes to my follicles. This is more than sex. This is conquest.
Manik surges forward and his cock takes the entirety of me. I feel the head of his monstrous rod pressing against my cervix, sending a sharp bolt through me and bringing a cry of real pain from my lips. He pulls back immediately, just a fraction. Just enough to save me from the agony he could inflict if he so chose. Even in the midst of apparent cruelty, he is showing mercy.
“You’re so easy to hurt,” he muses. “You would be so easy to break. What madness possesses a thing like you to try to do battle with a beast like me?”
“I am not trying to fight you,” I moan as he strokes slowly in and out of me.
“You came here to deprive me of my freedom.”
“Yes, but that was before I caught on fire and you saved my life.”
“I was attacked when I went on patrol. Are you going to pretend you had nothing to do with that?”
It’s very hard to answer that question, especially as he has his hand fisted in the hair at the back of my head and is growling the words against the most sensitive parts of my neck. My knees are caught in a dance of desire, wanting to draw up as if to suck him deeper, and wanting to spread to take him all the more. My body is caught in a dance of desperate sexual need, and thoughts are impossible to follow.
He fucks me harder, as if rougher strokes at a faster tempo will somehow draw the truth from me. All he succeeds in doing is driving me into a post-verbal haze of desire. There’s no sense coming out of my mouth, and certainly no confessions. There is just the constant needy wail of a woman who is finally being fucked after a sexual drought of devastating length.
I am starting to reach the levels of intense pleasure where death itself doesn’t seem as frightening anymore. Every part of my mind is being flooded with the chemicals of lust and connection, and somehow, I cannot muster anything like fear. Even though this creature who has me in his grasp is holding onto me with a growling, snarling fury that has yet to abate, one hand around my throat, the other in my hair, his cock sawing in and out of me with those incredible undulating strokes that stir a foam of desire between us. There’s nothing to fear. There’s just pleasure to be shared.
I reach for him, grasping his shoulders in the greedy attempt to drive him deeper inside me, even though I know that’s not possible. I am filled to my limit and stretched to capacity. The bud of my clit is engorged and rubbing repeatedly against his hard pubic bone. I am being fucked by a monster of an alien and I am loving absolutely every second. It is not enough to say this is the best sex of my life. This has to be the best sex of anybody’s life, past, future, or present.
My toes are curling, my mouth wide open with near constant shrieks of excitement. In his grasp I am nothing more than an animal mating for all she is worth, giving into every base desire and instinct known to the kingdom of flesh.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I curse the ancient words as I come hard, so fucking hard it feels like parts of my soul are being dislodged by the intensity of the energies surging through me. It’s not just me. It’s him. It’s our combined pleasure I am experiencing as he reaches the precipice of pleasure and forgets his loathing in the face of the base biological need to just fucking fill me.
He pulls out of me and comes all over me, sending spurts of blue hued seed over my breasts and my stomach, saving a few hot jets for my ravaged pussy which has yet to recover and take its usual demure form. I am open and I am dripping. I am filthy in every respect.
We part, panting. He stares at me from a few inches away, his expression slightly less intense than before.
“You can try to kill me, but I will not die so easily,” he says. “And I will punish you, though my cock does not seem to be the right sort of tool to teach you a lesson. I think you need something sharper, harsher. More painful.”
“I’m not lying to you. I haven’t tried to hurt you.”
I wish he would believe me, but of course, asking for his belief is asking for too much.
“Explain.”
“It is my ship. I told you she’d look for me. She’s got a personality. And she cares.”