Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You are perfect. So perfect,” he breathes. He sounds like he’s in heaven.
I know this is dangerous territory. I know I’m playing with fire, rubbing my near-naked body all over a near-naked stranger who’s shown evidence of attraction to me. But he’s warm and I’m not, and right now, that trumps everything. I plaster myself against R’jaal’s front, my legs straddling him. I curl up against his chest, my arms pulled tight against my breasts as he holds me against him.
“Better?” he asks.
“Almost.” The parts of me pressing against him are warming. “My back is still really cold. God, I wish we had a blanket.”
He pauses, then his hand strokes down my back. “I have a suggestion, but you might not like it.”
“I am open to any and all suggestions.” I shiver, trying my best not to move too much against him.
R’jaal speaks, his voice so hushed I have to strain to hear it. “My kilt…it is a long wrap that I wear around my waist. I could take it off and drape it over you.”
Oh.
I picture that. I picture me in my short, ill-fitting dress with R’jaal’s bigger naked body under mine. It doesn’t instill fear in me like it should. Maybe it’s the cold. It’s also entirely possible that my brain has been corrupted by fanfiction, because all I can think right now is that this is the unholy combination of two of my favorite tropes—the “only one bed” trope and the “let’s get those wet things off you” trope.
Those always end up in the same way for the characters in my stories, be they Spock and Kirk, or Mulder and Scully. If someone shares a bed, they wake up in the morning making out. If someone gets naked, it always leads to making out.
Both of them combined? This feels like a recipe for disaster.
And yet…the horny fangirl in me doesn’t hate this idea. Maybe I was hit on the head after all, because I know this probably involves things getting hot and heavy at some point between myself and R’jaal and I don’t hate it. Making out with a big alien stranger wasn’t on my bucket list, but he’s kind and sweet and protective and surprisingly attractive and he’s warm.
“Let’s do it,” I say before I change my mind.
I sit up and roll off of him, trying not to watch as he pulls his fur kilt off. He’s right—the belt is just a long strap and when he tugs at the knot holding it to his waist, everything falls to his ankles.
And I get an eyeful.
R’jaal is still aroused. His cock juts into the cold air, as thick and long as anything I’ve ever imagined. I’m pretty sure this is a fanfiction trope, too. I should quit looking and give him privacy, but he’s watching me. He knows I’m looking. And the man straightens and stands fully erect as if to show off the goods.
My cheeks heat and I should look away. It’s like I’m mesmerized by the sight of his equipment. Not only is he enormous and a deep shade of velvety-looking blue, but he’s got ridges rippling up his cock all the way to the prominent head, and there’s a stubby thing just atop his shaft that looks like a finger. I want to ask what it does, but that seems rude.
Well, ruder than staring.
He lets me look my fill, then slowly leans forward and picks up the fur, holding it out to me. “If you want me to dress again, I shall. I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay,” I blurt out. “I’m good. It’s not like I’ve never seen a penis before.”
I’ve just never seen an alien one. Or one that big. Or a blue one. Or one with ridges. Or that little finger-thingy on top. And I didn’t even get a good look at his balls yet.
That feels like an oversight.
I put the fur around my shoulders, and it’s a bit smaller than a towel, it feels like. It’s long in width but not in length, but I can make it work. It beats absolutely nothing, which is what I have, so I’ll take it. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
R’jaal just nods, lying back on the floor and turning his face to watch me. The tips of his horns scrape on the stone, but he ignores them, solely focused in my direction. It’s a little unnerving to see an enormous, naked, purring man stretched out on the floor with his cock jutting into the air and realize I’m supposed to climb him.
But then I remember how warm he is and I don’t even hesitate.
I slide my leg over his hips and settle back down over him, hunching under the fur blanket in an attempt to cover everything that’s not pressing against his warm, warm skin.