Page 64 of Border Control

“I’m not,” I say firmly. I don’t think I’m lying, but it might be a fake it ‘til I make it type of deal. I always know what I’m doing, always have a plan for what’s happening now and next. I’m always in control.

“Yes. Always,” Dom rumbles. “And you’re safe with me.”

The temptation to lean against him is strong, but the need to assert myself is stronger.

The twinge that’s been bugging me all day flares again. I rub my belly and the pain fades as if taken.

Dom’s lips twist with discomfort.

I ask, “Hey, are you taking my stomach cramps away from me?”

“Of course.” He touches his own stomach, hands slipping down his pebbled abs. “It hurts a lot. What is it? Are you hungry?”

“It's my period, my reproductive cycle working away.”

“Your…” His eyes bug out and the bond strums like plucked guitar strings, melodic and warm. “Is this… Are you… Have you changed your mind and you desire to mate with me?”

My heart flips. “No, no. Humans go through a monthly cycle, preparing a layer for pregnancy and shedding it when no baby gets made.”

“On an earth monthly basis? Seems wasteful. And painful.” He half closes his eyes, sucking in a breath.

I don't feel any pain, but somehow I know he's taken it from me. I get nasty periods, too; sometimes I have to go on the pill to deal with them.

“Thank you.” I touch his scaled arm.

“Of course.” His eyes shine. “I can't bear to feel you in pain.”

This guy. He might just melt my heart.

He looks down at my chest.‘Is that a medical emergency for humans? It would be for Olorians.’

“Right. Still broadcasting. Um, well…” I fish for an explanation an alien would understand. “A saying. A cultural thing. That you only say to someone you've shared special times with.”

“Like… us?” The image of me, legs splayed, writhing with pleasure, drops into my head.

“Right. Yeah.”

He nods happily. But he's just being a good Base. Right? He explained taking away pain and caring for others is part of his psychic carer duties.

He's not doing it because he wants to.

“Being on my period means we can't play for a week. Not unless you want your red wings.” I’m teasing, because the idea of oral when I’m on my period is mildly horrifying to me.

“If we cannot ‘play,’ then we may not untangle exactly what happened to bring you into the mind sync,” he points out.

“There’s still a lot of things we can explore outside of what’s in my panties.” Having orgasms for research would be a great premise for a scene, except I’m exhausted.

Dom’s arms slide around me, pulling me gently to his chest. “Rest, Law-rah. I will think about how I can best serve you.”

The image of him towering over my spread legs, diligently and hungrily pushing the wand to my pussy, springs up in my mind.

He nods eagerly. “Yes, like that if you want.”

“Did you enjoy it?” I ask him, voice low.

“I did.”

I know he did, he cracked like a pressure cooker pushed too far. “What about it made you so excited?”