Page 194 of Incompatible

After a moment of silence, apparently lost in thought, he types,

"I’ll try to come to you twice during the day, but I can’t stay longer than an hour."

I exhale, feeling relief.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it."

The words tumble out of me, and I feel stupid, incredibly stupid, thanking some random guy for agreeing to come over and fuck me?

And then I do something even dumber.

I take a step forward and wrap my arms around him.

The height difference between us is so overwhelming that my head ends up somewhere around the middle of his chest. I sigh and just hold on to him.

I see his gloved hands lift with a bit of hesitation before they settle on my back and the back of my head.

A pleasant shiver runs through me.

He strokes me gently in a way that should be soothing, except it doesn’t soothe me at all, it only makes me want more.

What is this? Being in his arms feels so wonderful it steals my breath. I feel the soft brush of his gloved fingers in my hair and on my back, and in those touches there is so much tenderness, more than I ever would have expected from a stranger. His index finger moves lightly over my shoulder blades and then glides down along my spine, over each vertebra, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath as my fingers curl into his thick black sweater.

Under the fabric I feel muscles hard as steel, like I’m touching someone carved out of stone instead of a living man, and it sends another sweet shiver through my lower belly, blood sinking downward.

"You’re so strong…" I murmur, sinking into the feeling, drifting into bliss.

The last time I felt this good was in Bay’s arms. The same sweet, perfect feeling, the same burst of intense happiness.

"Who are you, who are you?" I whisper.

I breathe him in. I sense the shower gel and his scent of neutral autumn leaves. To my personal genetic pheromone sense, it consistently falls somewhere between a low and mid level of compatibility, but at this stage I strongly suspect it’s artificial.

His gloved hands rise into my hair, threading through it gently, brushing my nape… I tremble with pleasure, and I almost come, the feeling is that divine.

"You stalk me to protect me, don’t you?" I whisper. And he… nods slightly.

Fuck. He admits it.

Unfortunately my weirdness rises to the surface.

A soft moan slips out of me, and another wave of heat crashes through my body, my fingers clenching the fabric of his sweater, almost pulling at it.

The hunger inside me grows, my hole pulses, sharp sudden contractions running along its length, almost paralyzing in their intensity.

The wave!

I want him.

"When you do it, do you ever think about my hole?"

A short pause, then a slow nod.

My body arches a little, my hips tilting back into the typical heat posture, my pelvis tipping as I push my ass out in an obscene display.

Feverish, I pull away from him with a sharp gasp, turn, and lunge toward the table.

I lean over it with the front of my body and let my robe fall to the floor.