Page 22 of Signed, Sealed, Seduced (You’ve Got Alien Mail #1)

My courier uniform suddenly feels inadequate, utilitarian in the face of his alien magnificence.

But I’ve never backed down from a challenge.

With deliberate movements, I unfasten the OOPS insignia from my sleeve—the first time I’ve removed it since joining the service—and set it aside.

The gesture feels symbolic, a shedding of my old identity as surely as Henrok has shed his armor.

The rest of my uniform follows, each piece removed with as much ceremony as I can muster.

When I’m down to my undergarments, I pause, suddenly self-conscious.

My body bears the evidence of a courier’s life: the faint scar along my hip from a docking clamp mishap, the scattered freckles across my shoulders from too many hours under alien suns, muscles lean from hauling cargo rather than sculpted for show.

Henrok’s gaze travels over me with reverence that makes my skin flush. “You are beautiful,” he says simply, as if stating an irrefutable fact.

“I’m human,” I point out unnecessarily. “Different from what you’re used to.”

“Yes,” he agrees, moving closer. “Wonderfully, perfectly different.”

His hand hovers near my shoulder, a question in the gesture. I nod, and his fingers make contact, sending a jolt of sensation through me. His skin is hot—not just warm, but genuinely hot, like touching heated metal. It should be uncomfortable, but instead it’s incredibly arousing.

“Your skin,” he murmurs, fascination evident in his voice. “So soft. And cool.” His palm spreads across my shoulder, the heat of it making me gasp. “Like water to flame.”

“Does it hurt?” I ask, worried suddenly that my cooler temperature might be unpleasant for him.

“No,” he breathes, his other hand joining the first, both palms now resting on my shoulders. “It is... perfect. Soothing. I have never felt anything like it.”

The wonder in his voice makes my heart clench.

When he continues his exploration, his hot hands mapping the curves of my body with careful reverence, I realize I’m experiencing something entirely new as well.

The heat of his touch creates sensations I never knew were possible—not just physical warmth, but something deeper, as if his touch is awakening nerve endings I didn’t know existed.

With careful movements, he unfastens my remaining garments, drawing them away from my body with a slowness that borders on worship. When I’m finally naked before him, his eyes darken further, the crystalline markings across his chest pulsing so brightly they cast blue-white light across my skin.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, and then he’s lifting me into his arms as if I weigh nothing, carrying me toward the sleeping area.

The bed, when he lays me upon it, is surprisingly soft, the material conforming to my body like nothing I’ve ever experienced. But I barely notice the bedding, too focused on the magnificent alien male looming over me.

“Are you certain?” he asks, ever formal even in this most intimate of moments.

“Yes,” I breathe, reaching up to touch his face. “I want this. I want you.”

Something flares in his eyes at my words—not just desire, but something deeper, more primal. The markings across his body pulse brighter, and I realize they’re not just responding to his arousal, but to mine as well. Somehow, they’re reacting to both of us.

“How?” I whisper, fascinated.

“We are... connected,” he says, his voice rough. “The markings respond to strong emotion, to physical contact. When you touch me, when you feel pleasure, they react.”

“Show me,” I challenge, and he groans, lowering his head to capture my lips in a kiss that sets my blood on fire.

His mouth moves against mine with increasing urgency, his hands exploring my body with growing confidence.

Every touch of his burning skin against mine creates sparks of sensation that seem to echo through the crystalline patterns covering his body.

When his fingers find the wetness between my thighs, both of us gasp—me from the incredible heat of his touch, him from whatever feedback the markings provide.

“So responsive,” he murmurs, circling my entrance with teasing slowness. “So perfect.”

But when he slips one finger inside me, I nearly scream. The heat is incredible, but more than that—I can feel a subtle vibration, a pulsing that seems to match the rhythm of his glowing markings.

“What—” I gasp, unable to form a complete sentence.

“The markings,” he explains, his voice strained. “They generate... energy. Warmth. When I am aroused, when I touch you, they...” He moves his finger, and I arch off the bed at the sensation. “They enhance the experience.”

“Holy stars,” I breathe, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s... that’s incredible.”

He adds a second finger, and the dual sensations of heat and that subtle vibration make me cry out. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced—not just the physical pleasure, but the knowledge that his alien nature is creating these sensations, that this is something uniquely him.

“I need you,” I gasp, my body trembling with want. “Please, Henrok.”

He positions himself between my thighs, the head of his shaft pressing against my entrance. Even through my arousal, I can feel the heat radiating from him, the subtle pulse of energy that seems to promise incredible things.

“Are you certain?” he asks again, his voice tight with control. “I am... large. Different. I do not wish to hurt you.”

In answer, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m sure,” I tell him. “I want all of you.”

With exquisite care, he begins to press forward. The stretch is intense, almost overwhelming, but the heat of him, the subtle vibration of those markings, makes every sensation heightened. As he sinks deeper, I can feel every ridge, every difference in his alien anatomy, and it’s incredible.

“Breathe,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against mine. “Let your body adjust.”

I do as he says, focusing on the sensation of being stretched, filled, claimed by this magnificent alien male. The heat of him seems to seep into my very bones, and those pulsing markings create a constant, subtle stimulation that has me trembling.

When he’s fully seated within me, we both pause, breathing heavily. The crystalline patterns covering his body are now blazing with light, casting everything in an ethereal glow.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.

“Full,” I manage, shifting slightly and drawing a groan from both of us. “Incredible. Like I was made for this.”

“You were,” he says with such certainty that I believe him. “Made for me, as I was made for you.”

When he begins to move, it’s with careful control, each thrust measured and precise. But the sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The heat, the size, the subtle vibration of his markings—it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

“More,” I gasp, my hands fisting in his hair. “Please, more.”

His rhythm quickens, and I can feel his control beginning to fray.

The markings pulse brighter, faster, and I realize they’re reacting to both our arousal levels.

As my pleasure builds, they glow brighter, which seems to feed back into his experience, creating a loop of sensation that has us both gasping.

“I can feel you,” he groans, his movements becoming more urgent. “Through the markings. Your pleasure, your arousal. It is... overwhelming.”

“Good,” I manage, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Let go, Henrok. I want to feel you lose control.”

Something snaps in his expression at my words. The careful rhythm falters, replaced by something more primal, more desperate. His thrusts deepen, quicken, and the heat between us becomes almost unbearable.

The crystalline markings are now blazing like stars, pulsing in rhythm with our movements. Every time he hits that spot deep inside me, they flare brighter, creating a feedback loop of sensation that has me teetering on the edge of something incredible.

“I’m going to—” I start to warn him, but the words are lost as pleasure crashes over me in waves.

The orgasm is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

Not just the physical sensation, but the way the markings seem to amplify everything, creating echoes of pleasure that roll through me again and again.

I can feel Henrok’s response through whatever connection we share, his own pleasure feeding back into mine until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

He follows me over the edge moments later, his powerful body shuddering as he finds his release. The markings blaze so bright they’re almost painful to look at, and I can feel the heat of him intensifying, as if his entire body is burning with the force of his climax.

For long moments afterward, we remain joined, both of us breathing heavily as the markings slowly fade to their normal level. The weight of him is substantial but not crushing, and I find myself marveling at the way his alien heat has seeped into my bones, warming me from the inside out.

“That was...” I start, but words fail me.

“Different,” he supplies, his voice rough. “From what you have experienced before.”

“Completely different,” I agree, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “The markings, the heat, the way you felt... it was incredible.”

He shifts, withdrawing from my body with care, and I immediately miss the connection. But before I can mourn the loss, he’s pulling me against his side, his arms coming around me in a possessive embrace.

“You are well?” he asks, his voice a rumble I feel as much as hear.

“I’m perfect,” I assure him, then pause as I realize something. “Are you... I mean, is that it? Are you tired?”

He goes very still against me. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just... you’re not human. I don’t know what your recovery time is like, or if you have the same limitations...” I trail off, suddenly embarrassed.

To my surprise, he laughs—a sound I’m becoming addicted to. “Suki,” he says, his voice warm with amusement, “I am a Zaterran male in his prime, with a mate who responds to my touch like fire. Do you truly believe I am finished with you after one encounter?”

The word ‘mate’ sends a thrill through me that I don’t want to examine too closely. “So you’re saying...”

“I am saying,” he continues, rolling over to loom above me, his eyes already darkening again, “that we have barely begun to explore what our joined physiology can accomplish.”

The crystalline markings are already starting to pulse brighter, and I can feel the heat building in his body again. “How long do you typically last?” I ask, fascinated by the differences between our species.

“Hours,” he says simply, and my mouth goes dry. “With proper motivation.”

I grin up at him, feeling bold and powerful and utterly cherished. “Challenge accepted.”

What follows is unlike anything I could have imagined.

Henrok’s alien stamina is extraordinary—where a human male would need time to recover, he seems to gain strength from each encounter.

The markings provide a constant source of feedback, letting me know exactly how my touch affects him, while their subtle vibrations create sensations I never knew were possible.

We explore each other with growing confidence, learning what makes the other gasp, what sends the markings blazing with light, what pushes us both to the edge of control.

His alien nature creates possibilities I never imagined—the heat of his touch, the way his markings respond to my arousal, the incredible endurance that lets us discover new heights of pleasure again and again.

By the time we finally collapse together, exhausted and sated, the markings have faded to a gentle glow that pulses in rhythm with our synchronized breathing. I’m draped across his chest, my skin still flushed from his alien heat, marveling at how perfectly we fit together despite our differences.

“That was...” I start, then laugh at my own inability to find words.

“Extraordinary,” he supplies, his arms tightening around me. “I had not expected...”

“What?”

“The connection,” he says softly. “The way the markings respond to you. It is not something I have experienced before.”

I prop myself up on his chest, studying his face. “Are you saying this is new for you too?”

“Everything about you is new,” he admits, his hand stroking along my spine in a gesture that’s both possessive and soothing. “The way you respond to my touch, the way you make me feel... it is unlike anything I have known.”

The admission makes my heart clench with emotion. “So we’re both figuring this out as we go.”

“Yes,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Together.”

I settle back against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.

The crystalline markings continue to pulse gently, a visible reminder of the connection we’ve forged.

Outside the viewport, the asteroid belt continues its eternal dance, and I realize I’m exactly where I belong.

“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” I murmur, already half-asleep.

His arms tighten around me, and I feel his lips press against my hair. “I promise,” he says simply. “Where else would I be, now that I have found you?”

The words follow me into dreams, a promise I never knew I needed until this moment. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I sleep without one eye open, without the constant vigilance that has been my companion for years.

I sleep in the arms of an alien warlord who burns with crystalline fire, who sees me as more than just a courier, more than just a delivery system. Who makes me feel like I’m home.

And when I wake, hours later, he’s still there, his markings pulsing gently in the starlight, ready to begin again.