Sasha's Story: How to Find a Mate the Hard Way (Alien Erotica) Read Online Free Page B

bit smug. They ate and chatted companionably about their lives prior to their capture. Afterwards, though, she had to relieve herself and was wondering how to politely tell him to go away. He seemed to understand without her having to say a word, slipping back into his cell and taking care of his own business while she did hers. She also took a few minutes’ private time in the sanitizing tube, making sure her clothes were cleansed along with her body.
    Belly full, bladder empty, body clean, Sasha felt almost like a new woman. She settled on her bed with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Now, an escape plan. She mused on this puzzle for a short time. While she was wondering if she could use the moment when someone entered the cell to squeeze past them and bolt, she felt Ocen’s gaze on her and looked over.
    He was leaning against the wall where the barrier used to divide their rooms, arms folded across his chest, watching her with a faintly amused expression. Your mind never stops. His chest rose on a deep breath, tongue sliding out in a slow-motion flick. And you smell delicious. If I had not just eaten, I might consider nibbling on you.
    And just like that, she went from logical thought to mindless lust, an image popping into her mind of his ridged, scaled head between her quivering thighs, that black tongue slipping through her glistening lips.
    Yesss, just like that, he crooned, voice rough-edged with longing.
    Sasha slapped a hand over her eyes and groaned. “Please stop reading every stupid thought that runs through my head. It’s embarrassing.”
    That was not stupid. It was devastating.
    She felt the bed dip and dropped her hand with a little yip of surprise to see him sitting right next to her. A strangely compelling musk reached her nose and she realized it was his scent, alien and attractive. His tongue flicked out at her, a breath away from her skin, and she gasped.
    Please, sayshin, if I cannot have you at least let me taste.
    “You…” she breathed, trying to remember the power of speech. His nearness was driving her mad. “You said you wouldn’t touch.”
    Without your consent , which I await with breathless anticipation. In the meantime, I give you full consent to touch anything you like.
    There was that amusement again, easing her alarm, building her trust. “Hm, touch,” she said thoughtfully, looking from those hypnotic eyes to the ridges on his skull then over the patterns on his skin. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to trace every one. “You have scales. Are you cold-blooded?”
    No, though my core runs cooler than yours. He held out his hand to her in silent invitation to find out for herself.
    Sasha knew it was a mistake but she pretended not to hear that small warning voice in the back of her mind, the last remaining bit of logic in a seething sea of swelling lust. It was just his hand—what harm could there be in satisfying her curiosity?
    She touched her fingertips to his. Cool, smooth, utterly fascinating. The scales gave his skin a firmer texture than her own, but with a silky resilience that captivated her. She wound her fingers with his, enjoying the sliding sensation, before drawing her hand away and letting his black claws trace over her palm. She shivered at the almost-pain, the stinging tickle proof of how sharp those claws truly were. Yet he stayed passive in her grasp, allowing her to explore.
    She turned his hand over, tracing the lighter pattern on his palm with a fingertip before working her way up his wrist . Her fingers stilled, feeling his pulse throb in a rhythm almost as fast as her own. She bit her lip and resisted the urge to meet his gaze, wrapping her fingers around his forearm to feel the heavy strength in his muscles and bones, a seductive contrast to the silky resilience of his skin. Sliding her hand higher, she traced the cut of his muscles, watching those scales yield to her fingers with deep fascination. They gleamed under the lights,