Lifting her, I press her back to the wall and position my cock against her opening. “Close your eyes, Aria. Relax. I’ll do all the work so you won’t fuss over not having this bath tub.”
She grumbles but it turns into a moan as I slide her down my length until she’s fully seated. With the water soaking us, she’s more slippery and everywhere we rub against each other feels incredible. My mouth seeks hers and I kiss her while I mate with her. It would seem my tongue is made to actively explore her mouth. It belongs there.
I retract my claws and seek out her pleasure button—her clit as she calls it—and rub her until her cunt is clenching around me. Her nog bangs against the panel behind her but she seems to enjoy every panel of my ministrations. Soon, I’m groaning and filling her with my seed. The toxica hits her system, rendering her useless. I hold my little alien, murmuring gentle words to her, until her body begins to move again. Once we’ve both settled from our pleasure and she’s no longer dead weight in my arms, I pull away slightly to look at her.
“I can get used to these showers as long as you’re in them with me,” she murmurs, a smile tilting her lips on one side.
I lift my fingers to her face and run my fingertips along her soft flesh of her cheek. Normally, I keep my claws out all the time because they’re a useful tool. But with my little alien, I enjoy touching her tenderly.
“Tell me something no one else knows about you,” she whispers. “Anything, no matter how small.”
It takes me a moment to think and while I do, I wash her. When I finally think of something, I stroke my fingers through her messy wet hair and smile.
“I like jackaws.”
“Jackaws?”
“They fly around near the windows and sing. It’s beautiful.” I purse my lips and blow, mimicking the sound they make.
She lets out a content sigh and then her voice does something more beautiful than any jackaw. The sound is similar to theirs but it’s accompanied with words. I stare at her, enraptured. Each word that rings from her fills me to the brim. I don’t want her to stop. Eventually, she does, but the bright smile is worth it.
“Singing acapella was one of my talents. Several chick flicks I was cast in called for it. I didn’t realize how much I missed singing.” Her eyes become glassy with tears. The good kind. My heart sings, too.
“I don’t know what any of what you said means. My translator unit is worthless,” I grumble but not angrily.
She giggles. “Maybe I should sing some more. I liked the expression on your face.”
“You better do it again,” I say with a grin. “Just to be sure.”
It’s been seven solars since Aria took me to bed on her own terms. I’m realizing that it’s better that way. Pleasurable for the both of us. She now laughs freely with me and there is a bounce in her step. I love how fond she is of Oz and Avrell and Hadrian. I’ve even seen Draven smile a time or two, which is unheard of.
Aria is life.
Like a little seedling in Galen’s lab.
She grows and grows each solar, and all we can do is watch her in wonder.
Soon, it is my hope, she will bear my young.
Until then, I want to do something special for her. She babbles a lot now and tells me about such things called movies. Her favorites are what she deems “classics”. I listen and take notes. I’m unable to remember the names of them all, but I do pay attention to what the heroes of her tales do for their heroines. It feels silly, but the giddiness in her voice as she retells the stories assures me that she won’t see me as silly if I replicate them.
And that is exactly what I am doing.
Replicating them.
I’ve chosen the parts that light her eyes up the most and created a plan. Much like a mission into The Graveyard that must be executed properly and requires the assistance of all my morts, I throw every ounce of energy into pulling off the most successful mission I can.
Hadrian calls it: Operation Rogstud.
He can call it whatever the rekk he wants, but all I care about is making her happy.
“Try this,” Galen says as he offers me a hard, smooth yellow stone.
“It doesn’t seem appealing,” I grunt.
Nevertheless, I pop the “candy” into my mouth. Sweetness bursts onto my tongue and I widen my eyes. “It is good.” My mate will be pleased.
He grins, baring his double fangs at me. “Well, when Aria started describing the sugary sweet she called butterscotch, it reminded me of a root I came across. The goldenroot has a rich, smooth flavor. I’ve yet to find a use for it for us, but it’s high in vitamins. When she’s carrying your young, it will benefit the young one’s growth and development.”