Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him what the bleeping bleep he's going on about when he pulls the plas-film cloth back from his hips and shows me his new piercing. There's a large, rounded double-stud on the top of his cockhead. A spider bite, I recall vaguely from my knowledge of piercings back on Earth.
"You…oh," I say, breathless.
"It is tradition for most mesakkah to pierce their cocks in order to bring greater pleasure to their females," Rektar tells me in a grave voice. "I never had mine done because I thought it would not be necessary. There would be no female to please, because I am a nobody amongst my people. But then I met you. And I wanted you to have everything I could give you. So I got this done. I have been thinking about it for a while, but I thought now might be the time, when you are not interested in mating. It will take a few weeks to heal." He shifts on the table, his expression a little uncomfortable. "And it hurts more than I expected."
"I bet." I reach out to lightly touch one of the rounded metal protuberances. When he's inside me, I have no doubt that they're going to rub against my G-spot with every stroke, and I'm pretty excited to try that out. But the tip of him is swollen and looks painful, and I make a clucking sound in my throat. "You hurt yourself for me?"
"I would do everything for you, my Lucy. You are my world."
Damn it. I sniff hard, determined not to start crying again. "I love you," I tell him again, my voice wobbly. "Happy anniversary."
"I love you too, my mate," he tells me with the most gentle, affectionate tone in his voice. "And…I think you are leaking."
Leaking?
I hear the sound of something wet on the floor, and I realize that my dress is now stuck to my legs. "I think my water just broke," I tell Rektar, dazed.
"Then it is a good thing we are already at the med-center," he says, in the most calm, natural voice ever. He gets off the table and picks me up, setting me on it. "Now we will greet our daughter on our anniversary, and it will truly be the best day ever." He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingers, and his smile is so beautiful it could light up the universe.
Six hours later, I'm on all kinds of good drugs, drowsing sleepily in the med-center bed. Rektar is beside me, a pair of loose (very loose) pants on, and our daughter in his arms. Since I was made pregnant by the largest alien I've ever seen, it shouldn't surprise me that my baby is the largest infant ever, but the size of the newborn surprises even the attendants. They coo over her four-fingered little hands and her sweet little mouth and the fact that she looks like a sausage in the baby clothes they give me.
She's completely perfect, of course, and Rektar looks down at her as if she's the most wondrous thing he's ever seen.
"You are a marvel, my mate," Rektar tells me, leaning over to press a kiss on my brow as our daughter sleeps in his arms. "To think you were carrying something so large inside your small body."
"That's why I love you," I tease him sleepily. "Because you see the size of my hips every day and you still think I'm dainty."
"You are to me," he says, and tilts his arms so I can look at our daughter's sleeping face. "She looks just like you."
"Don't make me laugh," I beg, even as I chuckle. "Everything hurts. You know she looks just like you, silly."
"She has your fingers," Rektar tells me staunchly, and I bubble over into more laughter. My fingers?! "All right," he admits with a sheepish smile. "She looks a bit like me. It seems unfair, since you did all the work."
"That child is the spitting image of you," I tell him, smiling. She's got his nose, right down to the plates, his wide cheekbones, and his eyes. There'll never be any doubt in anyone's mind that this baby girl is a hundred percent his. It's amazing to me that I can see so many of his features in her small, scrunched up face. "Isn't she beautiful, though?"
"Almost as beautiful as her mother," he agrees, and kisses my brow again. "Did you decide on a name?"