Page 16 of Reluctantly Abducted (Nereidan Compatibility Program #3)
Owen
I wake slowly, drifting up from dreams I can't quite remember.
Something about blue light and warm water.
The first thing I notice is heat, comfortable, perfect heat pressed against me.
My body registers the sensation before my brain fully awakens: the solid weight in my arms, the subtle scent that's nothing like Earth, the soft rhythm of breathing that isn't mine.
Ry'eth.
He's still asleep, his back pressed against my chest, my arm wrapped around him.
Sometime during the night, we've shifted closer, my body curled protectively around his smaller frame.
He'd mentioned once that he was considered small by his people's standards, an "unfortunate genetic trait" he'd called it with that hint of scientific detachment he uses when talking about himself.
To me, it just makes him fit perfectly against me, his body slotting against mine like we were designed as complementary pieces.
My face is buried in his hair, which smells faintly of minerals and something like ocean air.
And I'm hard. Achingly hard, my cock pressed firmly against the curve of his ass.
My body responds instinctively, hips moving in a subtle rhythm before I'm even fully conscious. Half-asleep, I tighten my arm around him, pulling him closer, my hand sliding lower to splay across his lower stomach. I feel his breath catch, and that small sound sends a wave of heat through me.
I'm fully awake now, suddenly aware of what I'm doing. I start to pull away, embarrassed by my body's automatic response. "Sorry," I mumble, voice rough with sleep. "I didn't mean to—"
Ry'eth turns his head, looking back at me over his shoulder. In the dim light, his eyes are luminous, more gold than I've ever seen them. His skin pulses with soft blue light that follows the rhythm of his quickened breathing. He doesn't look upset or uncomfortable. He looks turned on.
"Don't stop," he says softly, the words barely audible.
He reaches for my hand, which I've pulled away from his stomach, and draws it back, pressing it firmly against him.
Through the thin fabric of his clothes, I can feel that he's as hard as I am, and impressively endowed despite his smaller frame.
The substantial weight and length pressing against my palm makes my own cock throb in response.
My body feels like it's on fire. "Are you sure?" I ask, needing to be certain.
Instead of answering, he turns fully in my arms until we're face to face. For a moment, we just look at each other, breath mingling in the small space between us. Then he closes that space, pressing his lips to mine.
The kiss is tentative at first, questioning. But when I respond, sliding my hand to the back of his neck to draw him closer, something shifts. The kiss deepens, becomes hungry, desperate. His lips part beneath mine, and I taste him for the first time, something like sea salt and sweet spice.
I roll us gently until he's beneath me, my weight supported on my forearms on either side of his head.
The blue glow of his skin illuminates the space between us, casting everything in ethereal light.
His usually composed features are now flushed with color, his golden eyes wide and dark with desire.
"You're beautiful," I tell him, watching as the compliment sends a wave of brighter light beneath his skin. "So fucking beautiful like this."
He doesn't respond with words, just pulls me down for another kiss. This one is deeper, more certain. I take control of it, angling his head with my hand to deepen the connection. My tongue strokes into his mouth, claiming, exploring. When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard.
"I love kissing you," I murmur against his lips, nipping gently at the lower one. "Never want to fucking stop."
His hands clutch at my shoulders, and I can feel him trembling slightly.
There's something incredibly moving about seeing him like this, the precise, controlled scientist coming undone beneath me.
I shift my weight, pressing my hips against his, the hard length of my cock dragging against his through our clothes.
He gasps, the sound sending a spike of heat straight to my groin.
"Owen," he says, my name half-plea, half-command.
I move against him again, deliberately this time, creating delicious friction between us. Even through the layers of clothing, the sensation is intense. His body arches up to meet mine, seeking more contact. The blue light beneath his skin pulses brighter, following the rhythm of our movements.
"You feel so good underneath me," I tell him, voice rough with desire. "So perfect."
I take both his hands in mine, drawing them up above his head and holding them there firmly with one hand.
The position arches his body up against mine, creating more pressure where we both need it.
With my free hand, I trace the contours of his face, watching the way the light follows my touch, brightest where my fingers make contact with his skin.
My hand travels lower, skimming down his throat to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat racing beneath my palm, impossibly fast compared to a human's.
When my thumb brushes across his nipple through the thin fabric of his clothes, he gasps, his entire body jerking beneath mine.
The light beneath his skin flares brilliantly at the contact.
"Sensitive," I murmur, doing it again and watching his reaction with fascination. "Fuck, I like that."
I lower my head, capturing the hardened nub between my teeth through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to tease.
He cries out, a sound so raw and unfiltered that it sends a bolt of pure lust through me.
I suck hard, dampening the fabric, then blow cool air across it, watching as his body writhes beneath mine.
"Owen," he gasps, his voice breaking on my name. "I need—please—"
"What do you need?" I ask, moving to lavish the same attention on his other nipple. "Tell me."
"More," he manages, his voice strained. "Everything. I don't—I can't—"
I understand his incoherence. He's overwhelmed, experiencing sensations he's never felt before. The knowledge that I'm the first to touch him like this, to make him feel this way, is intoxicating.
"I've got you," I promise, sliding my hand down his body to cup him through his clothes.
He's fully hard, his cock straining against the thin fabric. When I palm him firmly, his whole body bucks beneath me, a strangled sound escaping his throat. The light beneath his skin pulses frantically, illuminating the room in flashes of blue.
"Fuck, you're big," I murmur appreciatively, stroking him through the fabric. "Is this what you need?"
"Yes," he gasps, eyes wide and unfocused. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I have no intention of stopping. I increase the pressure of my hand, feeling the distinctive shape of him through the increasingly damp fabric.
He's different from a human, thicker, with subtle ridges along the underside, the head more tapered, but the way he responds to touch is beautifully familiar.
As I continue to stroke him, I notice something else, a growing dampness that's too slick, too abundant to be just pre-come. There's a sweet, slightly spicy scent rising from him now, subtle but unmistakable.
"Are you... producing something?" I ask, fascinated.
His skin flashes with embarrassment, but he nods. "Natural lubricant," he explains breathlessly. "For... breeding purposes."
I slip my fingers beneath the waistband of his clothes, curious. My fingertips meet slick, warm fluid that's indeed startlingly sweet-smelling. It coats my fingers as I explore him, the texture silky and slightly viscous.
"Fuck, that's hot," I tell him honestly, bringing my fingers to my lips and tasting the substance before I can overthink it. The flavor matches the scent, sweet with an exotic spice note I can't place. "You taste amazing."
I release his hands, wanting to touch him everywhere at once. To my satisfaction, he keeps them above his head, surrendering completely to the pleasure I'm giving him. I slide down his body, trailing kisses over his chest, his stomach, stopping just above where my hand is working him.
I can smell his arousal now, that sweet-spicy scent growing stronger as more of the natural lubricant seeps through the fabric. Unable to resist, I press my face against him, inhaling deeply, then run my tongue along the length of him through the thin fabric.
The effect is immediate and dramatic. His hips jerk upward, a hoarse cry tearing from his throat as the most intense wave of light yet flares beneath his skin. It's so bright I have to squint, casting the entire room in brilliant blue.
"Fuck," I breathe against him. "You're incredible."
I hook my fingers in the waistband of his clothes, looking up at him for permission. He nods frantically, lifting his hips to help as I slide the fabric down and off.
His cock springs free, and I suck in a breath at the sight of it.
It's beautiful, blue-tinted like the rest of him but darker at the tip, with subtle ridges along the underside that I can already imagine how they'd feel.
Despite his smaller frame, he's impressively endowed, which sends a thrill through me.
Most striking, though, is the natural lubricant coating it, making it glisten in the light emanating from his skin.
The substance seems to be secreting from his palms as well, his hands now coated with the sweet-smelling fluid.
"Fuck, look at you," I murmur, wrapping my hand around him, feeling the silky-slick fluid coat my palm. "So fucking perfect."
He makes a strangled sound as my hand slides along his length, the natural lubricant making the movement effortlessly smooth. His hips buck up into my touch, seeking more.
"Oh," he gasps, his eyes wide with shock. "That's—I can't—"