Page 18 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)
I pull back just enough to catch my breath, my hands sliding down his broad chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his smooth, indigo skin. His eyes, crimson and molten, track my every move, hungry but patient, waiting for my lead.
“Mareliux,” I murmur, my voice thick with want, “I need you.”
The words are raw, unguarded, and they seem to undo him. Another low growl rumbles in his throat, and his tentacles quiver as their tips brush my shoulders like a lover’s caress.
He moves with deliberate slowness, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “May I?” he asks, his voice a velvet growl that sends shivers down my spine.
I nod, lifting my arms, and he peels the fabric away, exposing my skin to the cool air of his cabin. My bra follows, then my pants, until I’m bare before him, my body humming with anticipation. The starlight bathes me in silver, and his gaze drinks me in, reverent yet ravenous.
“You’re exquisite,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the lust in his tone, tempered by that careful consideration I’ve come to trust.
His hands roam my body, tracing the curve of my hips, the dip of my waist, learning me all over again. His touch is firmer now, more confident, as if he’s memorized the map of my pleasure from last night and intends to chart it even better.
I lie back on the bed, the soft sheets cool against my heated skin.
Mareliux sheds his boots and pants and follows, his large frame looming over me.
But there’s no fear, only a thrilling curiosity, a need to feel him again.
His lips find my collarbone, kissing a slow path down to my breasts.
His tongue flicks over one nipple, teasing it to a tight peak, while a tentacle curls around the other, its tip pulsing with a gentle suction that makes me gasp.
He’s learned me, all right — every touch is precise, deliberate, designed to drive me wild.
His mouth moves lower, trailing kisses across my stomach.
His tentacles fan out to explore. One slides along my inner thigh, its smooth, flexible tip teasing the sensitive skin there, while another brushes the curve of my butt, sending sparks of pleasure through me.
I spread my legs, inviting him closer, and he doesn’t hesitate.
His lips find my pussy, warm and wet, his tongue lapping at my clit with a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes my hips buck.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan, my hands fisting the sheets as he works me.
His tentacles are everywhere now, moving with a dexterity that borders on magical.
One slips inside me, thick and sinuous, curling against that perfect spot that makes my vision blur.
Another wraps around my clit, pulsing in time with his tongue, amplifying every sensation.
He’s better than last time, more attuned to my body, knowing exactly how to build the pressure.
A third tentacle teases my entrance, sliding in alongside the first, stretching me just enough to make me whimper with need.
His fingers join the fray, one circling my clit while his mouth sucks gently, the combined assault of tongue, fingers, and tentacles overwhelming.
The starlight above blurs as my body tenses, the pleasure coiling tighter, sharper, than before.
He’s relentless, his tentacles moving in perfect sync, stroking and pulsing, driving me toward the edge with a precision that feels almost unfair.
I grab at his head. My fingers tangle in his tentacles, and they pulse brighter, as if my touch fuels his own desire.
“Mareliux, I’m—oh, God?—”
The words dissolve into a scream as the orgasm hits, a tidal wave of ecstasy that rips through me.
My body shakes, my pussy clenches around his tentacles, and my hips jerk wildly as I come harder than I ever have, the pleasure so intense it’s almost painful.
I’m screaming his name and my voice echoes in the cabin, raw and unrestrained.
He doesn’t stop. His tongue and tentacles guide me through every shudder, every pulse, until I’m a trembling, gasping mess.
He eases back slowly. His tentacles retreat with soft, lingering caresses.
His lips press a gentle kiss to my thigh, and I feel the warmth of his breath against my oversensitive skin.
He crawls up beside me, his cock hard and straining against his pants, but he makes no move to take things further.
Instead, he pulls me into his arms, as his large frame curls around me protectively.
The starlight bathes us both, casting soft shadows across his indigo skin and my flushed body.
“That was…” I trail off, still catching my breath, my body humming with aftershocks. “You’re incredible.”
He chuckles, a low, satisfied sound. “I have no choice but to agree.”
His tentacles drape lightly over my shoulder.Their glow dims to a soft pulse, like a heartbeat.
I nestle closer, my head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me.
The stars above twinkle through the skylight, a silent witness to our shared desire, our growing connection.
Exhaustion tugs at me. The warmth of his body and the lingering bliss pull me under.
His scent, that mix of smoke and spice, wraps around me like a promise.
As my eyes drift shut, one tentacle brushes my cheek, and manages to feel soft and reassuring.
I want to laugh at the ludicrousness of it, but I’m too relaxed to bother.