Chapter Nine
CJ
What. The. Fuck? I blinked rapidly as he lowered the blanket from my bare shoulders and turned me on his lap to face the table. My lower half was still covered, the soft fabric pooled at my hips, but he had pulled my legs open over his so that, although I was covered, my pussy was spread wide. Wet. Ready for him. But my top? Bare.
It was erotic. Naughty. I loved it.
For a moment, I froze, uncertain just how far he was going to take this. But his hands rested on my hips, unmoving, and I managed to get my act together despite the five-hundred-degree temperature coming off his body that was making me overheat. I pulled the plate with the filet close and began to do as he asked. Knife. Fork. Cut.
It seemed really strange to do so with my bare breasts exposed. My nipples hardened, either from the cool air or from the concept of eating naked.
God, I really wanted a bite of those mashed potatoes.
He lifted my hair to the side, baring my spine, which he kissed. Slowly. Up. Down. His teeth nipped at my shoulder as his hands wound around my waist, then up higher to cup my breasts. I gasped, the fork clattering to the plate when he rolled my sensitive nipples between his fingers, his mouth locked onto the delicate area where my neck curved to meet shoulder. My pussy clenched, wet heat flooding my body as I tried to remember what I was supposed to be doing.
“Rezzer,” I gasped.
“Finish, mate. I am hungry.” He didn’t mean for food. Or did he? I had no idea.
With shaking hands, I did as he asked, cutting the meat into pieces. It was hard to do, cut while he played with my breasts, but I did. Finally, I was done and put the utensils down.
I held perfectly still. Waited for him to stop petting me long enough to notice.
I was squirming by the time he let go of my breasts with a soft growl. “Beautiful mate. So big. Full. Soft. I can’t wait to taste them.”
“I’m hungry.” I stared down at the food. Distraction.
“As am I. Place your hands in your lap.”
I did as he asked immediately, instinctively. Jeez, who was this woman inhabiting my body?
When he turned me in his lap, laying me sideways like a pagan offering, I forgot to care. He lips closed over a nipple and the sound that left my throat was more animal than human. He suckled there, moving between them like he had all the time in the world. When I was panting, he lifted his head and lifted a bite of food to my mouth.
“What are you doing?” I asked, eyeing the fork.
“Taking care of my mate.”
I blinked, coming up from the depths of erotic slumber. “I can feed myself. I’m not a child.”
He simply stared. Waited. Confused, I opened my mouth and accepted the food. An explosion of spices and flavoring made me groan with pleasure. “God, that’s so good.”
He fed himself a bite, chewing slowly. Thoughtfully. For an impatient beast, his lack of hurry was killing me. “Rachel said it is a recipe from a famous chef on your world.”
“Really?” So, not only did I not have to eat weird alien tentacles and bizarre bugs from other planets, but we had gourmet Earth recipes programmed into their system? “They should use that as a selling point for the Brides Program back home. You’d get more mates.”
The curious tilt of his head was fascinating, as was his utterly serious tone. “I shall mention that to Lady Lindsey, Hunter Kiel’s mate. She makes public relations videos for Warden Egara to recruit potential brides on Earth.”
“What?” I was naked, aroused, being hand fed by an alien beast on another planet, talking about a public relations campaign on Earth? All this after I’d transported halfway across the galaxy and seduced said alien, who’d repeatedly said he wanted to give me to someone else. Then that he’d changed his mind.
No wonder I felt like my head was spinning, and I couldn’t get my bearings. This was the weirdest day in the history of the world. And I’d had some doozies.
He lifted the fork to my mouth again, offering the bacon sprinkled, buttery, chive and sour cream smothered mashed potatoes. I promptly opened up and let him feed me.
Between bites, he played. His hands roamed beneath the blanket, tracing my inner thighs, teasing the wet heat of my core but never diving deep. Teasing and rolling my nipples. Kissing every inch of available skin. Torture.
Exquisite. Unrivaled. Torture. I never wanted it to stop. And if it didn’t stop soon, I was going to lose my mind.
When I was full, I told him so, and he listened. Another mark in his favor. With a calm deliberation that made me nervous, he quickly finished off most of what was left, his hand stationed permanently low, over my womb, as if he could sense how badly I suddenly wanted a new life growing there.