His voice is a growl that vibrates.

In fact, his entire body is vibrating. I didn’t realize that.

In my starstruck state, I didn’t realize how his chest is heaving and how his abdomen is hollowing out. The abdomen that I’m touching, and which is all fevered and heated and sweaty.

My fingers slip and caress those ridges. “You have a six pack.”

“Eight.”

My eyes have never been this wide. “Holy shit.”

“You —”

“You’re a god.”

“Poe, I —”

“No, wait. I don’t think you’re a god. I think…” I frown. “I think you’re beyond that. You’re beyond godly. You’re… otherworldly. You’re a big, sexy alien. Wait, is that better or worse? Than being a hot god.”

He growls, impatient.

“You’re just so beautiful, Alaric. You’re breathtaking. Do you think I could watch you do your punching thingy some time?”

His jaw ticks at my ramblings. His fingers in my hair flex.

Then, “You know that you’ve made this way worse on yourself, don’t you?”

I clutch at his sides. “Worse how?”

He leans even further down. “Kneeling there, giving me those fuck-me eyes while you make me strip for you. You didn’t think that would come without consequences, did you? You didn’t think that twisting me around your tiny little finger and babbling and being all cute little Poe would come without my cock swelling to four times its size, did you?”

He called me cute again.

He thinks I’m cute.

But there’s something more important than that right now.

“F-four times. Is that…”

I want to look down and see if that’s possible. Does that even happen?

And oh my God, how amazing if it does.

But he bends even further, a drop of sweat from his forehead plopping onto mine. “No, it’s not. Not without medical help. But I guess you’re fucking magical and better than western medicine, aren’t you? And that’s bad for you, Poe. That’s bad because my raging monster of a hard-on is going to introduce you to a world of hurt tonight and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”

So that’s what it was.

The words he said to me when he went down on me.

He was preparing me for his cock.

God.

He’s amazing, isn’t he?

My otherworldly, alien, godly guardian.

My heart swells in my chest and I press my thighs together as he continues, “And this isn’t a modest dress.” He tightens his fist in my hair while his other hand comes to grab my bare breast, all rudely and obscenely. “If I could get at your tit with one pull of this useless dress, any other asshole could have too.”

“Alaric, please. Now.”

His jaw clenches with emotion and he simply stares at me for a few moments.

Before he descends on me and claims my mouth in a kiss.

And it’s a kiss that goes on when he grabs my dress and drags it up my body with hasty movements, only breaking for a microsecond when he has to get it up my arms. It’s a kiss that goes on when he unbuttons his pants, breaking for another second to drag them completely off. It’s a kiss that goes on when he lays me down on the bed and comes to settle his muscular and heated bulk between my thighs.

He breaks it again though, waking me up from the drowsy slumber he’d put me in.

But only because he has to go up and kneel between my thighs.

That’s when I get a good look at his cock.

And he’s right.

It is big and swollen. And thick and standing up, touching his belly button.

It’s duskier and darker than his bronzed skin and if it was someone else, anyone else, I would be scared. I would be scared by the length. By the ruddy knobby head. By the fact that it keeps throbbing, leaking pre-cum.

But since it’s him, it’s my Alaric, I’m not scared.

I’m impatient.

I’m horny and squirming on the bed.

When I look at his face to tell him to hurry, I notice that he’s watching me writhe shamelessly. He’s watching me twist my hips and bounce my tits as I clutch my sheets and rub my heels up and down.

“I’m clean,” he says, breaking into my lusty thoughts. “I haven’t had sex in months. I got so caught up in finishing everything in Italy before coming back that I didn’t…”

“Okay,” I whisper, trusting and completely uncaring and only because yes, it’s him.

He swallows. “And I’ve never, not ever, not used a condom before so I’m —”

“Hurry, Alaric.”

A puff of breath escapes him. “This is important, Poe. This is about your safety. This —”

“I don’t care,” I tell him, jerking my hips shamelessly. “It’s you. So please, hurry.”

And thankfully he does.

Maybe because he could see it on my face, how impatient I am. Or maybe he lost the battle with himself.

I watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet, lying on the floor — something he probably got from his pants in all the undressing and kissing — before rolling it down his length and coming over me.

Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net