Page 9 of His Little Morganite

She screams as I barely stroke the tip of my nose over the sensitive bundle of nerves I know is her pleasure center—her clitoris. I tease her, not pushing the material out of the way no matter how badly she squirms or whines. I’m waiting for her to obey me.

“Papi,” she finally shouts.

“That’s my good girl.” I grab the thong and pull it down her legs, leaving her bare.

A sudden sense of modesty takes over, and she brings her legs together as I drop the soaking scrap of black material. It’s okay. I ignore the way she’s clenching her thighs and take the time to push her dress up her body. Slowly. Painstakingly slowly.

When her breasts pop free of the tight material, I stifle a groan. She’s so unbelievably perfect. I want to drop to my knees and worship her. My voice cracks as I say, “Arms up, Baby girl.”

She arches her chest off the bed as she obeys me. This is the only time I will open this sweet package, so I savor every moment. I kind of like the way I’ve slowly revealed every inch of my Little girl. It’s not something we do on Eleadia, and I’m seeing the appeal. Human males are onto something here. They get to unwrap their prize over and over again.

The problem with human males is that they don’t appreciate their prize the way my people do. They aren’t capable of it.They don’t have the fated attachment that makes their mates irresistible and their matings permanent.

I feel sorry for humans. They never in their lives feel the way I feel right now. Ava feels the same because I’ve pricked her skin and because she’s meant to be mine. She felt this draw even before I touched her.

As I whisk the dress away, her hair fans out around her. I can smell her desperation, but it’s tinged with hesitation. She’s holding on to a thread of uncertainty. Or perhaps it’s defiance.

She lowers her hands to her breasts, shuddering as she covers them. Her eyes are wide and glassy. She’s breathing heavily as she protests. “Oh, God. What are you doing to me?”

I gently circle her wrists with my fingers and draw her arms up beside her head on either side, exposing her fantastic breasts to my view. It’s a view I’ll see most of the time for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to adorn her dusky nipples with gemstones. They will be stunning.

“Ganrax…”

I lower my lips to hers, kiss her gently, and then whisper, “Papi.”

She shudders adorably.

I nibble a path to her neck and around to her ear, the opposite ear from the one I kissed earlier. I can feel her pulse, and I lick the spot that calls to me. If I nick her right here, the effect of my serum will be even faster. She’ll be writhing in seconds.

Is it fair? It doesn’t matter. It’s the way of my people. If I have to use my quill to help my Little girl see reason, I will.

After another swipe of my tongue along her pulse point, I quickly pierce her skin.

She cries out before sucking in a deep breath and holding it. Her body bucks off the bed. I have to hold her wrists firmly to keep her from flying off the mattress.

Her knees are pulled together and drawn up. They’re in my way. I gently bite her earlobe before whispering, “Spread your legs for me, Baby girl. Open yourself for Papi.”

My cock stiffens further when she obeys me. She’s making the most delightful noises, and I’m aware she needs relief. I’m going to give it to her. Always. Millions of times. Starting now.

I lower my lips to her breasts and suck one of her precious buds into my mouth. As I flick my tongue over the captured nipple, she writhes and moans. When I switch to the other one, she arches it up, offering it to me.

I blow on it, making her whimper. I want her to recognize her submission and accept it. It’s going to be challenging, but I will gradually coax it out of her, starting with demanding every ounce of her submission when she’s most vulnerable and needy.

“Do you want Papi to suck this needy little titty, Baby girl?”

Her moan is deeper, and she arches her chest higher. “Please…”

“Please suck my greedy little titty, Papi.” I know from previous males who have come to Earth and returned with their mates that certain language is triggering to their human females. One of those words is titty. It’s not just another word for nipple. It has connotations that draw out a female’s Little girl.

“Oh, God…” She squirms, trying to pull her legs together, but I’m leaning between them now. She can’t close them. Her knees grip my hips, but that’s as far as she can move.

I flick my tongue over the distended bud and blow on it again, beyond grateful for every ounce of education I’ve had about human females and the fact that I did not skim any section of information.

My Little girl’s pussy is soaked, and the strong scent of her arousal is salivating. I want my mouth on her pussy. I want to suck her essence into me. I want to taste her, eat her until she can’t focus on anything but my mouth. I want to do so until I’vewrung several orgasms out of her and she’s unable to move a muscle.

“I know you need my mouth on your titty, Ava. It felt so good when I did the first one. The other one is desperate to experience the same thing.” I flick it again.

She cries out in frustration. “Please… Oh. God. Please…”