Page 20 of Alien Attachment (You’ve Got Alien Mail #2)

I lean closer, my bioluminescence casting shifting patterns across her skin. “It would start with me mapping every sensitive spot on your body. Finding the places that make you gasp, the touches that make you arch toward me instead of away.”

“And then?”

“Then I’d use everything I learned against you,” I say, my voice dropping to a growl.

“Every pulse, every caress, every way of touching you that drives you wild. I’d build the pleasure so carefully, so perfectly, that when I finally let you fall apart in my arms, you’d forget everything except how good I can make you feel. ”

Her pupils are dilated now, her breathing rapid and shallow. “Show me,” she breathes.

Those two words shatter the last of my restraint. “Are you certain? Because once I start touching you properly, I won’t want to stop.”

“I’m certain I’ve been wanting this since you first demonstrated what those tendrils could do.” Her eyes are dark with desire. “I’m certain I trust you. And I’m certain that if we don’t explore this now, I’ll go insane from wanting it.”

The confession sends such a surge of need through me that my bioluminescence flares bright enough to light the entire cabin. “Then let me show you exactly what I’m capable of.”

I start with one tendril tracing the line of her collarbone while another follows the graceful curve of her neck, each touch accompanied by gentle bioelectric pulses that make her breath catch. Through our bond, I feel her wonder transforming into raw hunger as the sensations build.

“That’s just the beginning,” I tell her, letting a third tendril explore the sensitive hollow behind her ear while sending coordinated pulses through all three contact points. Her knees nearly buckle, and she grabs my shoulders for support.

“Stars above,” she gasps, her head falling back to give me better access. “I can’t... that’s incredible.”

“This is nothing,” I promise, my voice rough with barely contained desire. “With full contact, with time to explore every response, I could make you forget your own name.”

I demonstrate by allowing two more tendrils to join the exploration, one tracing the elegant line of her throat while another maps the curve of her shoulder where her jumpsuit has slipped slightly.

The bioelectric currents I send through each contact point are carefully modulated—some quick and sharp like lightning strikes, others slow and rolling like waves.

Her response is everything I could have hoped for. She arches against me, her breathing ragged, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips that go straight through me like fire.

“What would that feel like?” she manages, her voice thick with arousal.

“Like drowning in pleasure,” I say, increasing the intensity of the bioelectric pulses until she’s trembling against me.

“I could bring you to the edge again and again until you’re begging me to let you fall.

Or I could build the sensation so slowly, so perfectly, that when you finally climax it would shatter you completely. ”

The word ‘climax’ makes her gasp, and through our bond I feel the spike of heat it creates. “You can really do that? Just with... touch?”

“Touch, bioelectric stimulation, and the bond between us amplifying every sensation,” I explain, letting my tendrils demonstrate with perfectly timed pulses that make her cry out. “The combination is... potent.”

“Potent,” she repeats weakly. “That’s one word for it.”

I lean closer, my mouth near her ear. “I could map every erogenous zone on your body, learn exactly what pressure and rhythm drive you wild, then use that knowledge to keep you on the edge until you’re sobbing with need.”

Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. “Jhorn... I want...”

“Tell me,” I demand, letting more tendrils extend to map the curves of her body through her jumpsuit. Each contact point receives its own carefully calibrated pulse, creating a symphony of sensation across her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to know what it feels like when you stop holding back,” she whispers against my throat. “I want you to touch me like you mean it. Like you need it as much as I do.”

The confession breaks what little control I have left.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her flush against me, and for a moment I just hold her, savoring the feel of her body pressed against mine.

She’s so warm, so perfectly soft in all the right places, and the way she melts into my embrace sends heat cascading through every system I possess.

My tendrils begin their exploration slowly, reverently, mapping every accessible inch of exposed skin with the careful attention of a scholar studying ancient texts.

One traces the elegant line of her collarbone, another follows the graceful curve of her neck, while a third explores the sensitive hollow behind her ear where her pulse flutters like a trapped bird.

The bioelectric pulses I send through each contact point are stronger than before but carefully controlled—not enough to overwhelm, just enough to make her gasp and arch against me.

I want to savor every response, memorize every sound she makes, learn exactly what touch makes her breathing hitch and what caress makes her fingers dig into my shoulders.

Through our bond, I experience everything she feels—the electric heat racing across her skin like liquid lightning, the way her pulse hammers against her throat, the slow, building heat that starts in her core and spreads outward in waves.

But I also feel her growing desperation, the way her body begins to crave more pressure, more contact, more everything.

“Jhorn,” she breathes, and my name on her lips is better than any symphony. “Please...”

“Please what?” I murmur against her ear, letting my breath ghost across the sensitive skin there. “Tell me what you need.”

“More,” she gasps, her hands fisting in my shirt. “I need more of you. All of you.”

I demonstrate by allowing more tendrils to join the exploration, each one finding a new patch of skin to worship.

One maps the curve of her shoulder where her jumpsuit has slipped, another traces the line of her spine through the fabric, while others explore the soft skin of her wrists and the sensitive inner curve of her elbow.

The sensation of having so many contact points, each one sending perfectly timed bioelectric pulses, makes her cry out and arch against me.

But I’m careful to keep the intensity just below the threshold that would push her over the edge.

This is about building need, creating hunger, making her understand exactly what she’s choosing when she chooses me.

“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, my voice rough with barely contained desire. “To feel what I can do when I stop holding back?”

“Yes,” she whispers, then louder, more desperate: “Yes, but I need... I need...”

“You need release,” I finish for her, feeling the truth of it through our bond. “You need me to stop teasing and give you what your body is begging for.”

“Please,” she says again, and the naked want in her voice nearly breaks my resolve.

I’m torn between giving her what she’s begging for and continuing this exquisite torture that has her trembling against me. The decision is made for me when she shifts in my arms, pressing closer, and I feel exactly how much she needs this through our bond.

“More,” she gasps, and the word nearly destroys me.

“Careful what you ask for,” I warn, my voice barely recognizable as I let more tendrils join the exploration. “Because I want to give you everything. Every touch you crave, every sensation that makes you tremble, every way of making you mine.”

I demonstrate by sending a coordinated wave of bioelectric pulses through every contact point simultaneously. The sensation is intense enough that she actually lifts off her feet for a moment, supported entirely by my embrace and the network of tendrils surrounding her.

“Oh, gods,” she breathes, her voice breaking. “That’s... I didn’t know anything could feel like that.”

“That’s still just a fraction of what’s possible,” I tell her, my own voice strained with the effort of maintaining even this much control. “With the right stimulation, in the right places, I could make you experience pleasure beyond anything your nervous system was designed to handle.”

“Show me,” she demands, her eyes dark with need. “Stop treating me like I’ll break.”

The challenge in her voice, the trust implicit in her demand, the way she’s looking at me like I’m everything she wants—it nearly overwhelms my higher reasoning functions entirely.

“Kaylee,” I growl against her ear, my voice barely recognizable. “If I give you more, I won’t be able to stop. I’ll want all of you. Every sound, every response, every perfect way your body fits against mine.”

“Then don’t stop,” she breathes. “I want all of it. I want you.”

The words hit me like a shock wave. Through our bond, I feel her certainty, her desire, her complete willingness to surrender to what’s building between us. She’s not just allowing this—she’s actively choosing it, demanding it, claiming what she wants from me.

It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

I’m about to show her exactly what “all of it” means—about to demonstrate capabilities that go far beyond simple bioelectric stimulation—when proximity alarms start screaming, cutting through our passion like a blade.

The sound is jarring enough to make us both freeze, the spell broken in an instant. Kaylee’s eyes snap open, and I feel her shift from aroused woman to professional pilot in the space of a heartbeat.

“No,” she says, pulling away from me with obvious reluctance. “No, no, no. Not now.”

I release her immediately, though every instinct screams at me to hold on, to ignore the alarms and finish what we started. But her safety takes precedence over my needs, no matter how desperately I want to continue touching her.

“Three ships,” she reports tersely, instantly shifting to survival mode despite her flushed skin and rapid breathing. Her hands fly over the controls with professional efficiency, though I notice the slight tremor in her fingers. “ApexCorp configuration. They found us.”

“How?” I move to the co-pilot station, my tendrils automatically interfacing with the ship’s systems even as I mourn the interruption. Through our bond, I feel her frustration matching my own—not just at being discovered, but at having this moment stolen from us.

“Doesn’t matter now,” she says, though I catch her glancing at me with naked regret. “We need to jump. Immediately.”

But when I interface with the navigation systems, the news is grim. “The jump drive is still cycling from our last emergency leap. Two more minutes before it’s ready.”

“We don’t have two minutes,” Kaylee says, watching the approaching ships on our scanner. The external view shows three sleek vessels closing fast, their weapon ports already glowing with hostile intent. “They’ll be in weapons range in ninety seconds.”

I make a decision that will either save us or kill us both. “I can push the drive. Force it to cycle faster.”

“That could burn out the entire system,” she warns, but there’s no real objection in her voice. She knows as well as I do that we’re out of options.

“Or it could save our lives.” I’m already extending multiple tendrils toward the drive controls, preparing to interface directly with the quantum containment fields. The same appendages that were just bringing her pleasure now reach toward potentially lethal energies. “Trust me.”

Through our bond, I feel her fear—not of dying, but of losing me. The realization sends warmth through me even as I prepare to risk everything. She’s not afraid for herself; she’s afraid of losing what we just discovered together.

“Do it,” she says, and I hear both command and plea in her voice.

I plunge my consciousness into the ship’s systems, feeling the raw quantum energies like fire against my neural pathways.

The drive isn’t ready—the containment fields are still stabilizing, the quantum matrices still aligning.

Forcing it now will require me to become part of the system, to use my own life force to bridge the gaps in the incomplete cycle.

It will probably burn me out. But it will save Kaylee.

“Jhorn,” she says, alarm flooding our bond as she realizes what I’m doing. “Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for me.”

“Not sacrifice,” I manage, pouring more of myself into the drive systems. The quantum energies tear through my consciousness like molten metal, but I hold on, forcing the chaotic fields into alignment through sheer will. “Investment in our future.”

The words come out more strained than intended, but I mean them. This isn’t sacrifice—it’s a down payment on the life I want to build with her, if I can just get us both through this alive.

The quantum fields respond to my interference, stabilizing under my direct control. But the cost is enormous—I can feel my consciousness fragmenting, spreading too thin across too many systems. My vision starts to gray at the edges, and my tendrils begin to lose their coordination.

“Jump ready,” I announce, my voice barely recognizable even to me.

“Jhorn, let go. Let the ship handle it from here.”

But I can’t. If I release control now, the unstable quantum matrix will collapse and we’ll be trapped. I have to hold it together, guide us through the jump, ensure we reach safety. Even if it destroys me.

“Jump,” I order, putting everything I have left into keeping the drive stable.

Kaylee initiates the sequence, and reality tears apart around us.

I hold the quantum fields together through sheer force of will, my consciousness scattered across light-years of folded space.

Through our bond, I feel Kaylee’s terror, her desperate plea for me to hold on, her love wrapping around me like a lifeline in the chaos.

When we emerge from jump space, I’m already fading. The effort has cost me too much—my vision is gray, my tendrils limp, my consciousness fraying at the edges like worn fabric.

“Jhorn!” Kaylee’s voice seems to come from very far away.

I try to respond, to reassure her that the jump was successful, that we’re safe, but the words won’t come. My consciousness is fragmenting, pieces of myself lost in the quantum foam we just traversed.

The last thing I feel through our bond is Kaylee’s fierce, protective love—and her desperate promise that she won’t let me go.

Then darkness takes me, and I fall into the void between stars.