Read Online Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9) by Ruby Dixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruby Dixon
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cannot help but push a finger into the opening, imagining it is my cock. Her soft cries and the way she jerks against my hand tell me that she is imagining the same. I want to push deeper, to thrust into her and see her body quiver, but…I want it to be my cock, not my hand. So I search for her third nipple instead.
I find it tucked into the front of her folds, a tiny nub hidden in the slick softness. She moans loudly when my fingers skate over it. I want to bring my hand to my mouth and taste her, but I want to keep pleasuring her, too. The need to please her wins out over my own selfishness and I circle my fingertip around her nipple, watching her expression. Her face is tight, her brows wrinkled together as if she is concentrating hard, her lips parted.
She is so lovely to look at that my mouth waters again.
There is another way to taste her, then.
I look around. There is a pile of extra furs in one corner of the storage room, behind a few baskets. I grab Mah-dee by the thighs and heft her in my arms as I get to my feet. She makes a small noise of protest, but it is muffled—she does not want us to be found, either. I carry her to the furs and set her on her back, and before she can say anything, I push her thighs apart and my mouth is on her. I give her a long, thorough lick, making sure to flick my tongue over her nipple. She tastes as sweet and musky as she smells, and I am filled with Mah-dee’s scent, her flavor.
It makes me hungry for more.
Mah-dee whimpers. I feel her legs tremble, and then she hooks one thigh over my shoulder. Her hands grip my horns. She is not pushing me away. She wants more.
I am eager to give her more. With a hungry growl in my throat, I lick her again. And again. I use my tongue to give her pleasure, trying to make her produce more of those little cries that make my body tighten in response.
“I’m so close,” she tells me, pulling on my horns. “Use your fingers, too. Thrust into me with them.”
Her demanding tone fills me with a fierce response. If she wants more, I will give her everything I can. I double up on my ferocity, tonguing and licking at her nipple. I slide my fingers along the slippery folds of her cunt, seeking out her opening, and when I find it, she cries out again. She wants me to use my fingers? I shall. I thrust into her with one, and it is nearly my undoing.
She is so wet inside, so warm, and so very tight. I can feel her cunt clench around my finger in response to my invasion, and I imagine how it would feel around my cock.
I am very, very close to losing control. Gasping, I rear back, abandoning my efforts to pleasure her. If I touch her now, I will spend before my cock even comes close to her cunt.
And I want to spend inside her.
I press a hand to my forehead, willing my body to obey. My cock throbs incessantly, the head coated with my own slickness. I dare not lick my lips, because then I will taste Mah-dee. My hands are still wet with her juices, and I want to taste them even as I know I must not.
She approached me and wished to mate. I must please her and show her that I am worthy of her attention. Spending all over the furs instead of inside her will not do.
Mah-dee makes a small noise of protest. “What? Why’d we stop? Is someone coming? Because I know it isn’t me, if you know what I’m saying.”
I do not know what she is saying, actually. And I do not care if someone is approaching. At this point, I am too far gone. “Give me a moment.”
“I don’t want to,” she says in a teasing voice, and her toe nudges my thigh. “I was so close.”
“Me too,” I grit. “That is my problem.”
“Oooh.” Mah-dee sits up on her elbows. I dare to glance over at her, and it is nearly my undoing. She is lovely to gaze upon, her inner thighs still open and wet and inviting. She bites her lip as she looks over at me and tilts her head. “I don’t think that’s a problem at all, see. Because I want to come, too. So if you’re waiting for
I find it tucked into the front of her folds, a tiny nub hidden in the slick softness. She moans loudly when my fingers skate over it. I want to bring my hand to my mouth and taste her, but I want to keep pleasuring her, too. The need to please her wins out over my own selfishness and I circle my fingertip around her nipple, watching her expression. Her face is tight, her brows wrinkled together as if she is concentrating hard, her lips parted.
She is so lovely to look at that my mouth waters again.
There is another way to taste her, then.
I look around. There is a pile of extra furs in one corner of the storage room, behind a few baskets. I grab Mah-dee by the thighs and heft her in my arms as I get to my feet. She makes a small noise of protest, but it is muffled—she does not want us to be found, either. I carry her to the furs and set her on her back, and before she can say anything, I push her thighs apart and my mouth is on her. I give her a long, thorough lick, making sure to flick my tongue over her nipple. She tastes as sweet and musky as she smells, and I am filled with Mah-dee’s scent, her flavor.
It makes me hungry for more.
Mah-dee whimpers. I feel her legs tremble, and then she hooks one thigh over my shoulder. Her hands grip my horns. She is not pushing me away. She wants more.
I am eager to give her more. With a hungry growl in my throat, I lick her again. And again. I use my tongue to give her pleasure, trying to make her produce more of those little cries that make my body tighten in response.
“I’m so close,” she tells me, pulling on my horns. “Use your fingers, too. Thrust into me with them.”
Her demanding tone fills me with a fierce response. If she wants more, I will give her everything I can. I double up on my ferocity, tonguing and licking at her nipple. I slide my fingers along the slippery folds of her cunt, seeking out her opening, and when I find it, she cries out again. She wants me to use my fingers? I shall. I thrust into her with one, and it is nearly my undoing.
She is so wet inside, so warm, and so very tight. I can feel her cunt clench around my finger in response to my invasion, and I imagine how it would feel around my cock.
I am very, very close to losing control. Gasping, I rear back, abandoning my efforts to pleasure her. If I touch her now, I will spend before my cock even comes close to her cunt.
And I want to spend inside her.
I press a hand to my forehead, willing my body to obey. My cock throbs incessantly, the head coated with my own slickness. I dare not lick my lips, because then I will taste Mah-dee. My hands are still wet with her juices, and I want to taste them even as I know I must not.
She approached me and wished to mate. I must please her and show her that I am worthy of her attention. Spending all over the furs instead of inside her will not do.
Mah-dee makes a small noise of protest. “What? Why’d we stop? Is someone coming? Because I know it isn’t me, if you know what I’m saying.”
I do not know what she is saying, actually. And I do not care if someone is approaching. At this point, I am too far gone. “Give me a moment.”
“I don’t want to,” she says in a teasing voice, and her toe nudges my thigh. “I was so close.”
“Me too,” I grit. “That is my problem.”
“Oooh.” Mah-dee sits up on her elbows. I dare to glance over at her, and it is nearly my undoing. She is lovely to gaze upon, her inner thighs still open and wet and inviting. She bites her lip as she looks over at me and tilts her head. “I don’t think that’s a problem at all, see. Because I want to come, too. So if you’re waiting for
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