CHAPTERELEVEN
Bela
What in thehellam I doing?
How did I end up kissing analien?
When he first entered the room, I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest. He didn’t look like any of the species Elara showed me! He looked like… well, like alizard.
His skin is varying shades of reds and burnt orange, with the shadow of scales visible along his bald head and corded neck, across his broad shoulders and down thick arms. My fingertips tingle with the strangest urge to touch him. What would those scales feel like? Would they be soft and supple or hard and reptilian?
His eyes are especially captivating, with slitted pupils and alternating streaks of gold, taupe, and moss. Just like a snake’s. And the way he looked at me. It’sintense.
My eyes drifted over his blade-thin nose, the end flattening out around two thin nostrils and across his high, sharp cheekbones. Before dropping to his mouth and a pair of surprisingly lush lips.
Lips I’m still pressed against.
For a lizard alien, he’s… quite attractive, with large hands and long, graceful fingers tipped with black claws that dance nervously against muscular thighs encased in a pair of cargo pants. I’m willing to guess, if he turned around, he’d have a tight ass to fill out of the back of those pants too.
His lips are closed and pressed into a thin line while his eyes are wide open and staring at me in surprise, because I’mstillpressing my lips against his.
Treto’s shock ends abruptly, and he pulls back, breaking my kiss.
For long moments, neither of us moves as we stare at one another. His reptilian eyes are locked with mine, as though he’s trying to uncover my secrets by reading my mind. Then, before I have a chance to react, his arm snaps out lightning fast, and his fingers curl around my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze. My back hits the wall behind me, and I open my mouth with a sharp gasp.
A low vibration comes from his throat just before he angles his head and leans into me. His penetrating gaze pins me in place.
His nose brushes the tip of mine, his warm breath puffing across my parted lips and, for a moment, I expect him to kiss me. When he doesn’t, I realizeI want him to. Instead he fucks me with his eyes, gently grazing his nose against mine while purring like a rattlesnake until my stomach clenches and my core goes soft and creamy.
When I swallow, my throat works against the hand he’s collaring me with. I should probably feel frightened at his possessiveness, but I don’t. In fact, I feel exactly the opposite. I feel safe. Protected.
My eyes flutter as I sigh, letting myself relax into his grip.
“Bela,” my name rumbles past Treto’s lips, and my eyes flare wide just before those lips suddenly come slamming down on mine.
He watches me as he deepens the kiss, thrusting his tongue against mine in a slick dance. The tip is sharper, pointier than I’m used to. There is something very different about it as he flicks and licks at me, but I can’t quite make out what it is.
With each stroke of that tongue and slide of his lips, he lulls me into a state of euphoria until… something suddenlypinchesmy tongue.
“Wha—?” I pull back sharply, and my hand goes to my kiss-swollen lips as I stare at his mouth.
Treto’s hand is still lightly circling my throat, his golden, striated eyes hooded as his tongue darts out to taste his bottom lip. I realize what I felt. The tip of his tongue isforked. For some reason the sight of his reptilian tongue has a heated flush rushing over me.
“Mmmm,” he hums. “Your taste… I doubt I’ll ever get enough.”
Oh jeez! I really shouldn’t get hot over that.
Without blinking, Treto leans into me again, and I part my lips, preparing for more of his kisses as my eyes slide shut.
“No.”
My eyes snap open.No?
“Keep your eyes on me,” he insists. The deep rumble of his voice sends waves of heat radiating through my body, and I have no choice but to obey.
This time he takes my mouthhard.His kisses are demanding, urgent and then they turn frantic, the whole time pinning me with his intense gaze.
His hand around my neck tightens, his fingers putting the slightest bit of pressure on my jugular, just enough for me to feel the blood pool and heat my cheeks. My hands circle his wrist, the fingers clenching at his shirt, but I don’t try to push him away. Instead, I lean more of my weight into his grip, opening wider, taking more of his kiss. My hips have started a slow rocking, and he groans when I rub up against his hardness.
