The Vanished Specialist Read online K. Webster (Lost Planet #2)

Categories Genre: Alien, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Lost Planet Series by K. Webster
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
<<<<31321222324253343>47
Advertisement2


She nods in resignation and tears well in her eyes. I search her face, but she turns her nog to look out the window to avoid my gaze. Her fingertip runs along the glass and she lets out a heavy sigh. “I feel like I am suffocating.”

Often, these little aliens say things that have other meanings. And since she’s not clutching at her throat for air, I assume she means she feels trapped. “This is not the facility and we’re no longer with our faction,” I tell her gently. “We are on Mortuus, free to travel about as we see fit.”

She swipes the heel of her hand over her cheekbone, erasing the evidence of her tears. “Not figuratively, Calix. Literally. I didn’t want to say anything…” she trails off and a sob catches in her throat. “I feel like I’m dying too quickly and nothing is slowing it down. If anything, I feel like I’m on borrowed time.”

I prowl over to her and move the tray of food from her so I can cradle her face with my hands. “I will not let you die.” The growl that rumbles from me is fierce and terrifying, but it is so convincing, even I nearly believe it.

“Promise?” she chokes out, her hands gripping my wrists as though I might vanish from her sight.

“On my own life,” I vow.

The sadness bleeds from her as her expression changes from one of worry to desire. Her nostrils flare, a slight pink burns across her cheeks, and her supple lips part. When she licks them, I let out a groan, remembering how sweet she tastes. Desperate for another sample of my lilapetal, I lean forward and press my mouth to hers. She moans and it stirs my cock to life.

“Calix,” she breathes as she climbs into my lap. Her legs straddle me and her kisses intensify. I love the way she runs her fingertips through my messy hair. “I need you.”

“What do you need me to do?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

She rolls her hips, grinding her center against my cock through our suits. Pleasure surges through me and my hands grip her waist in warning.

“I need you to make love to me…” she trails off, her breath hot against mine. “I don’t want to die without being with you. It’s irrational to you, I’m sure, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

I kiss her deeply until she seems to melt within my arms. So soft and trusting. I could spend eternity adoring her. “You want to mate with me?” I clarify, making sure I understand her intentions both spoken and unspoken.

“Yes,” she insists, nipping at my bottom lip in a playful way.

I grin and trail kisses along her jaw to her cute little ear. “Our people mate for the purpose of reproducing.”

She lets out a soft chuckle. “And my people mate sometimes just for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” My words are husky. I know her meaning. So often I have lain in bed, tugging at my cock and given in to the throes of one-fisted passion. I know what she insists on us doing will bring pleasure to me. But I am hoping she will find pleasure too.

“Yes,” she says, smiling. “You might have to get me off first to get me ready. Like you did in the lab.”

My cock twitches at the reminder of how I brought her to climax with my fingers. “Then this,” I murmur, tugging at the zipper on the back of her minnasuit, “needs to go. It hinders in our plans to mate.”

Her cheeks redden, but she nods, a wide grin on her face. I love that color has been brought back to her features. It reminds me that she is alive and mine and here right now.

“Your skin is unlike anything I have had the pleasure of touching before,” I utter as my clawed fingertips gently slide down her spine.

She shivers and pushes closer to me, the globes of her breasts smashing against me. It does nothing to help calm the state of my cock. If I am not careful, I will spill my seed just from a few simple touches.

“Let me see you.” I lift my gaze to meet hers. She bites on her bottom lip as she allows me to pull down the front of her suit, baring her breasts to me. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you,” she whispers.

Unable to stop from touching her, I lean forward and press my lips between her breasts. Her heart steadily beats against my mouth. I will check her vitals later with my machine, but I can easily make sure she is well with a few simple tests.

Heartbeat—steady and rhythmic.

Temperature—warm and normal.

Breathing—rapid and raspy, but not too labored.

I splay my palm on her back and reposition us so she is lying down and I am above her. She is too delicate to bend her over and mate properly with her. According to the manual about mating—the one every mort has worn the pages of obsessing over—detailed out how you take your female from behind. With my lilapetal, though, we will make adjustments to accommodate her needs. She’s far too weak to be taken so roughly. Her breath hitches—in a good way—when I begin kissing her breasts. Slowly, with lips only at first, but when I start licking and sucking at her nipples, she lets out a moan and rips at my hair.


Advertisement3

<<<<31321222324253343>47

Advertisement4