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Juliet slowly nods. “Okay. That…that actually makes sense. So you’re just here for our cows? Not to take over the world?”

I ignore her first question and answer her second with a smile. “We’re not here to take over your world.” But then I cringe, knowing that is so far from the complete story. So I continue, “Though I will not deny that some of us would like to make a home here.”

Juliet’s big blue eyes blink again. “You would?”

I nod, even though I did not realize it was true until just now. All I have ever wanted is to be honored in my father’s eyes. To be first instead of last. To have stature and status among my people.

But now? Now that I have met Juliet and come to this strange, foreign place?

For the first time in my life, I have glimpsed another path. A path not spent striving for position in the eyes of those who have denigrated and ignored me my entire life. Instead, I see a home. I see Juliet. I see our children.

I see happiness, something I had long given up any hope for.

“I would.”

Juliet’s eyes do not break from mine as she shifts and then moves from where she is sitting to my bed, her thigh right beside mine.

“You feel real,” she says, lightly rubbing her middle finger down my forearm. I shiver and close my eyes as I fight for control of myself. If I react as I would like, I might scare her.

“What does it feel like for you?” she asks. “Human skin?

My voice is overly gruff as I respond. “Strange. Like my scales have been split open and my insides are exposed and raw. Except that it does not hurt. When touched by you, I feel the keenest pleasure.”

Her finger ceases its journey. “Only when you’re touched by me?”

I do not have to think about it long. “A few others have touched me, in the passing of currency, once on the street. I did not like it.”

Her finger begins to move again. “But my touch, you like?”

My breath hitches. “Yes. I like it very much.” I dare a glance over at her. “But it is my tongue that remains the most sensitive of all my sense organs.”

Her gaze is zeroed in on my mouth.

“And what does this feel like?” she whispers.

I do not move a muscle as she leans up and into me. When her lips brush against mine, I want to roar in satisfaction.

I want to press her back against the bed cloths and mate her immediately.

I want her fat with my kit and yet still reaching for me every hour of every day.

“Shit.” She suddenly pulls back, but only a small bit. “What am I doing? You’re an alien and I’m— I’m—”

“You are Juliet and I am Shak. That is all that matters.”

I dare to move into her again, kissing and swiping my tongue along the fragrant seam of her lips. But I only push forwards when she opens for me.

And then it is her who moans.

Her arms move around my neck and her fingers dig into the human hair on my head as she draws me down into her, kissing me harder.

I can taste the aftermath of her fear and panic still on her lips, but also her intoxicating female arousal. She is moistening for me. I taste it on her lips and in the air.

It is like nothing I have ever scented before.

I am immediately hard and my male parts have descended. They are uncomfortable in my pants, but I fear releasing myself might scare Juliet.

And there are more important things to be seen to.

Her scent is driving me mad. It has teased me occasionally the times I have been around Juliet before but now it is so thick in the air and the knowledge that it is me that causes it—

I cannot stand it anymore.

I flip Juliet so that her back is on the bed and then I lift up the clothing that has teasingly brushed her knees all night. She is exposed to me except for a small thin triangle of cloth.

I wait to see if she will push me away but she does not. Her hands stay in my hair and I drop my head to her fragrant sex.

Knowing this will be my first taste, I cannot help but torture us both a minute longer with anticipation.

I spread her legs wide and then lick up her inner thigh, pausing at the apex of her legs where the material barrier begins. I linger there, lathing at her skin with my tongue.

Her legs begin to tremble on both sides of my head.

“Please,” she begs, her hands urging my head as if to move me where she wants, but I turn my head and nip at her fingertips.

She groans but pulls her hands back.


Tags: Stasia Black Draci Alien Science Fiction