Page 13

“I’ve had practice,” he says, a hint of a smirk in his voice.

I glance up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “With other women?”

“Yes,” he admits, his gaze steady. “But none like you.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I focus on the dance, on the way his body moves against mine, on the way his hand feels on my back. It’s intoxicating, and, I feel… free. Like I’m not just following the rules, but actually living.

So what if he’s an alien? At least he’s not another Mama’s boy.

The music fades, and Lanz spins me into his arms with practiced ease, his massive frame caging me in. My breath stops, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. His scales press against me, their texture smooth yet firm, and I’m hyper-aware of every inch of him. The strength in his arms, the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest rises and falls in rhythm with mine. It’s overwhelming in the best and worst way.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. Our gazes lock, I can’t look away. They’reintense, almost predatory, but there’s something softer there too. Something special.

I swallow hard, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

He smirks, a flash of sharp teeth. “Liar.”

My cheeks burn, and I glance down, but his hand tilts my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze again. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re braver than that.”

I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the words catch in my throat. He’s so close, somuch. I can feel his arousal pressing against me, and my body betrays me, leaning into him without permission. A shiver runs down my spine as I rub against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through me.

He groans, his grip tightening for a moment before he forces himself to relax. “Careful,” he warns, his voice rough. “You’re playing with fire.”

I pull back suddenly, my face flaming. My hands fly to cover myself as if that will somehow erase what just done. I pull away from his grasp, and he lets me go with some reluctance.

"Take me home," I mumble into my hands. "Please, just take me home."

“What’s wrong?” Lanz asks, his voice steady but softer now. His golden eyes search mine, and I can’t hold his gaze for more than a second. I glance down at my hands, twisting them together like I can wring the shame out of them.

“You must think I’m some kind of hussy,” I mumble, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves against the yacht. “The way I—the way I acted just now.”

He steps closer, the heat of his body already reaching me before his hand does. “You should have no shame for doing what makes you feel good,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “We both enjoyed it. What’s the harm?”

I shake my head, my cheeks burning. The words of my parents echo in my mind, their voices sharp and disapproving.“You’ll end up just like her, Tyler. Tawdry. Loose. A disappointment.”I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it’s no use.

“I’m not—” My voice cracks, and I bite my lip hard to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not that kind of person. I don’t—I don’t do things like that.”

Lanz lets out a breath, and I hear the faint rustle of fabric as he gestures to someone behind me. The musicians disappear silently, their absence leaving the night strangely hollow. His hand lands on my shoulder, and I flinch, not because his touch is unwelcome, but because it’s exactly what I’ve been craving.

“You are not an evil or tainted person for having desires,” he says,, almost soothing. His thumb brushes against my neck, and I shiver despite the warmth of the night. “Your parents raised a magnificent, lovely woman, but they were mistaken about this.” He pauses, and I feel his breath against my ear as he leans closer. “There is nothing wrong with pleasure, so long as it does not come at another’s expense.”

I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, that my parents were right. But the words won’t come. Instead, I stand there, trembling, as his hands slide down my arms and pull me back against him. I should resist. Ishould. But I don’t. I let him draw me into his grasp, my body fitting against his like it was made to be there.

His hand cups my cheek, and I feel the faint scrape of his scales against my skin. It’s not harsh—not like I expected. It’s warm, almost comforting, and when his thumb traces my lower lip, I can’t help the way my breath catches.

“You’re not the devil,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. But he hears it anyway.

“No,” he says, a word that I feel more than hear. “But I’m not a saint either.”

His thumb presses lightly against my lip again, and before I can stop myself, I suck on it, the instinct taking over before my brain can catch up. His breath stutters, and I feel the tension in his body ratchet up a notch. I turn my face into his palm, my lips brushing against the rough texture of his scales. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But it feels soright.

"Surrender to me, Taylor," Lanz rumbles. "You are mine."

I squeal in surprise as Lanz sweeps me off my feet and into his arms. I lose a heel as he carries me to his private cabin on the yacht. My heart pounds in my chest, a wild mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"I can't believe this is happening," I think to myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. Part of me wants to protest, to tell him to put me down. But the larger, more primal part of me is reveling in his show of strength and dominance.

"I've fantasized about being carried off by a Billionaire," I muse, my fingers tracing the intricate patterns of his scaled skin. "I've fantasized about being conquered by an alien. But to have both happen at once feels like winning the lottery and an Academy Award in the same day."