Captured by the Alien Warrior by Hall Presley

Captured by the Alien Warrior by Hall Presley

Author:Hall, Presley [Hall, Presley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: needs an amazon review, jan 2022, on next upload
Published: 2022-01-21T05:00:00+00:00


15

Rok

As I finally pull out of Tara and help her up from the table, my knees feel weak, my body still trembling from the force of my climax. I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life, and I’m already craving the feeling of being inside her again.

I’ve been with my share of women, but I’ve never felt anything that could compare with the intensity of what I just experienced with Tara.

It leaves me a little shaken, but I tell myself not to think too deeply about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, and both of us just had a brush with death as Grinnock’s lackey tried to take us out.

“Are you all right?” I ask, fear for her rising in me as I remember the bounty hunter’s attack. “That thief didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, I’m fine,” Tara reassures me with a shaky breath. Her gaze drifts to the blaster wound on my arm. “You’re the one who got shot. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I chuckle, thinking of what we just did. “More than fine.”

“Rok…” Tara drags her lower lip between her bottom teeth, her gray eyes wide and soft as she looks up at me. It’s the most vulnerable I think I’ve ever seen her. “Will you… will you come up to bed with me?”

A surge of possessiveness washes through me, and I can’t resist looping an arm around her waist to tug her close to me.

“Of course,” I murmur softly, nipping her lower lip. “We should stay close, in case another intruder comes.”

“Right.” She grins against my mouth. “Safety in numbers, right?”

“Exactly.”

Our coupling was so fast and heated that neither of us took off our clothes. My tunic clings to her sweat dampened skin, and my pants are still hanging from my hips, my cock jutting out, still half hard. I tuck myself away and then follow her up the ladder, enjoying the view far more than I should.

It feels blissful to crawl back into my bed after a few nights sleeping upright in my chair by the workbench, and even better to be here with Tara. She moves close to me as we slide under the blankets, and I meet her gaze as we turn toward each other.

Something tightens in my chest as I look into her eyes, and I think back over the past few days since I first had her tied up in this bed.

Neither of us has told each other everything about ourselves, and it’s become almost a game between us, getting little bits and pieces of information out of each other where we can. We’ve prodded and questioned and irritated each other into giving up small tidbits here and there, slowly teasing out our pasts.

But as I reach out to push a lock of hair out of Tara’s face, my body already aching with the desire to touch her again, I realize that I don’t want to hold back anymore. I don’t want to play games with her.



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