Page 6 of Chosen By the Alien (Halloween Temptation #11)

I lie back on the mattress, my skin still buzzing from the world-rocking orgasm I just had, heart racing like I ran here.

Tahl hovers above me, his golden eyes searching mine, calm and steady even though I know he must feel what I’m feeling too.

That rush, that terrifying high, the edge of something we can’t undo.

His hand slides down my chest, not to start anything, not yet. It’s just there. Gentle, grounding. Like he’s reminding me I’m here. That he is too.

“I’ve never…” I say. “I’ve never done this. I don’t know if I can.”

Tahl leans in. His breath ghosts against my cheek, then lower. His lips graze my collarbone, soft and reverent. Then further, lower, until he’s kissing down my stomach, trailing worship along the lines of me I’ve never let anyone see like this. Not a man. Not like this.

“You do not need to know,” he murmurs against the inside of my thigh. “I will guide you.”

His mouth presses into the sensitive skin there and I shiver, half from nerves, half from the raw heat pulsing through me. My legs fall wider, a slow, silent surrender.

I nod. I don’t say it, but I mean it. Yes.

He rises, eyes locked on mine. “Then trust me.”

I do.

Tahl moves with care. He pulls my jeans all the way down with a slowness that makes my skin burn.

My cock’s already half-hard again, shamefully eager even though my whole body trembles with the unknown.

He sees it all. Doesn’t look away. Doesn’t smirk or make a joke.

He just watches me like I’m something sacred.

“You are beautiful,” he says, fingers brushing my hip. “Do not be afraid.”

I let him take the lead. I have to. My hands are shaking too much to do anything else.

He undresses me, piece by piece. My shirt.

My underwear. Everything gone until I’m bare on the sheets, breathing shallow and trying not to bolt.

But then his hands are back—warm, soothing—one on my chest, the other sliding behind my knee, lifting my leg and pressing a kiss just above the bend.

I can’t look at him. It’s too much. But I don’t stop him either.

He shoves his pants the rest of the way down with quiet grace, baring himself completely.

Tall, broad-shouldered, smooth golden skin that seems to catch and hold the light, muscles tight and sculpted like something carved to be worshiped.

My gaze drags lower, gods, that cock. Long, ridged, slick with a bead of liquid glistening at the tip.

I freeze, eyes wide when I realize. “That’s not… going to fit.”

He kneels between my legs and strokes the base of it, then lets the slick drip over his fingers. “It will,” he says. “Slowly. With care.”

I nod again. My voice won’t work. My whole body feels like it’s about to crack open.

He starts with a kiss. Deep, slow, tongue sliding over mine until I melt back into the bed. His fingers trace the inside of my thighs, then press against me. Just there. Testing. Waiting.

He adds more slick from his cock, drizzles it over his fingers before sliding them down again. The first touch against my hole makes me jolt. He whispers into my neck, calming me with his breath, and tries again. Slower.

One finger slides in, and I hiss through my teeth. It’s not pain exactly. Just... strange. Full. I clench around him without meaning to, but he waits. Doesn’t push.

“You are doing well. Let your body open.”

I try. I focus on his voice, his touch. Let myself be held in it. Another finger joins the first, stretching me further. I gasp and grip the sheets, my heart hammering. It’s too much. It’s not enough. I don’t know.

But when he curls those fingers, brushes something inside me…

Fuck.

My hips jerk. My cock twitches, untouched.

“Good,” he says, smiling against my thigh. “There. Again.”

He keeps rubbing that spot, slow and rhythmic, until I’m panting, flushed and hard again, my fear drowned in the hot swirl of pleasure. His fingers scissor inside me, stretching me open. I moan before I can stop it.

Then he withdraws, and I feel suddenly empty. Needy.

“Tahl…” I whisper, surprised at the sound of his name in my throat.

He kisses me again, then lines the head of his cock up to me.

“This is the part I go slowest,” he says, cupping my face. “Breathe. You are ready.”

I nod, pressing my heels into the bed to brace myself.

The head of his cock presses in. Wide. Hot. Unforgiving.

I grit my teeth and try to breathe, but fuck. It’s too much. My body tries to push him out, but he strokes my cheek and whispers, “Let me in. You can take me.”

I exhale. Shake. Let go.

And he slides deeper.

Each inch stretches me more than I thought possible. My eyes blur with tears, not from pain but from the overwhelming fullness, the sheer intimacy of it. He pauses halfway, letting me adjust, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone.

“You are doing beautifully.”

I nod again, unable to speak. I feel everything. Every ridge, every beat of his cock pulsing inside me. And when he bottoms out, buried to the base, his pelvis flush against mine. I let out a strangled sound. Half a sob. Half a moan.

He’s in. All the way.

Tahl stills, just holding me like that, cradling me with his body.

I didn’t know sex could feel like this. So vulnerable. So close. Like he’s inside not just my body, but something deeper. Something I didn’t want anyone to see.

Then he moves.

A slow draw out. Then back in.

I cry out, arching under him. My cock leaks against my stomach, untouched, dripping with every slow thrust. He fucks me like he’s savoring me. Like he’s learning me one stroke at a time.

The ridges along his cock drag over my insides, and every time he hits that spot—that spot—I nearly see stars.

I’m moaning openly now, hips rolling to meet him. Every fear drowned under the rhythm of him moving inside me, stretching me open again and again. My legs wrap around his waist without thinking, pulling him in deeper.

“Please,” I gasp. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He fucks me slow but deep, voice a low rumble as he praises me between thrusts. “So tight… so good for me… taking me so well…”

I lose track of everything. My name. My past. My old life.

All I know is this moment. This bed. This man. This cock inside me, making me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. Things I never thought I’d want.

The tension coils tight in my gut. My cock pulses, untouched. My body trembles.

“I’m… fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Let go,” he whispers, slamming deep. “Let me feel you.”

And I do.

I cry out, coming hard across my chest, ropes of it streaking my skin, my vision going white as I spasm around him. My hole clenches tight, milking him, and he groans, thrusts once, twice more, and then stills.

His cock throbs inside me. I feel the flood of warmth as he comes, deep and raw and endless.

He doesn’t pull out. He doesn’t move. Just collapses over me, holding me close, his face buried in my neck.

We lie there, breathing hard. Sticky. Messy. Wrecked.

And yet: I’ve never felt more whole.

Tahl brushes damp hair from my forehead, his eyes unreadable. “You are… incredible.”

I blink up at him, stunned. My body still pulsing with aftershocks.

I don’t say anything. I can’t. But I reach for him, hand on the back of his neck, holding him close.

Something has changed. I feel it in my bones.

I can’t undo this.

I don’t want to.