Callisto: Bound to the Alien Commander |18+

Chapter 39

With gentleness I wasn't expecting, he pulls my pants off. They hit the ground with a loud, wet plop.

Weeks of emotions are barely contained in my skin. When he finally touches me, I might burst into tears, or it could go the other way. I might laugh. The only thing I know with any certainty is that I will go crazy if he doesn't hurry up.

He's moving too slowly. It's like he's not experiencing the same frenzy that I am. Everything I need is right in front of me. I just need to convince him to take what I'm willingly offering.

Resting my back against the hood, I spread my legs wide, placing my feet flat.

He freezes, looking between my legs. He's close enough to touch me but he doesn't. The rain slows, scattered drops falling here and there. Unmoving, our eyes are locked together. I'm begging him to step forward, to sink himself into me. He's looking at me as if it's the first time.

Impatient and throbbing, I slide my hand down my stomach, letting it dip down between my legs.

His body jerks forward slightly, like every muscle in his body just tensed at once.

Pressing my heels into the cool metal beneath me, I slowly push my middle finger into my wet center. Groaning in frustration, I slide in and out, desperate to ease the tight, burning feeling coiling inside me.

This feels...fine. It's not what I want. I could have had my own fingers every day for the last month and a half. I want the real thing. I want him.

With slightly parted lips, he watches me. When my back arches up, leaning into the agonizing pressure, he finally wakes up. His pants hit the ground, the soaked material hitting the ground loudly.

Anticipating his touch, his body between my legs, I spread them wider. All he has to do is step forward.

Instead, he takes his cock in his hand, closing his fist around it.

"Keep going." His voice is different in An'eoc. It's deeper, heavier, it drips with authority.

The cool breeze against my wet skin sends shivers down my spine and goosebumps everywhere. I can't find it in me to care about the cold. Watching him is all that matters.

Pressing my fingertips down, circling my clit, I moan into the air. Short, stuttering breaths slip past my parted lips.

I want to pinch my eyes shut, but I can't. I have to see him. I don't want to miss anything. His hand moves slowly, and the muscles in his chest and abdomen flutter under his skin.

I move my fingers faster. My thighs tense and my hips shift and squirm. I'm going to come. The pressure is excruciating, tingling in my stomach. Wordlessly, he watches, his eyes glued to the gleaming wet skin between my wide open legs.

His fist pumps faster, grunts and harsh breathing sounds wrap around my body. A strangled, broken cry shakes my chest as my hips buck forward. I'm so close, I'm almost there, I just need a little bit more.

I want to reach out and grab him, to pull him toward me. I want to wrap my lips around him and suck the pleasure from his body.

I'm afraid that if he isn't the initiator in this, he will back away again. For whatever reason, he has put a barrier between us. If it's going to come crashing down, I need him to stop pulling back.

"Ronan, I'm lonely," I whisper.

His head tips down but his eyes never leave mine. For a moment it looks like he's about to fight this. "Move your hand."

I pull my hand away, squirming at the unreleased tension.

When he steps between my legs, I'm hesitant to get too excited. He could still run.