Matched

Kylie & Lew

She looked into his eyes, then back down again. Her hand was trembling as she reached for it. He sucked in a breath. His thighs tensed. Otherwise there was no response. No stiffening. Kylie felt a spike of dread. Was she too late? Could he even go hard in his condition?

Then she felt it. With a brief stroke of her fingers, she felt it harden in her hand. She stroked it again, watching as it engorged to an astonishing size. It swelled until it filled her grip. More than filled her grip.

Kylie's heart was pounding. She cleared her throat, feeling the heat fill her cheeks. Could she really do this? She hadn't had sex in years. She'd never really liked it. Penises were ugly and gross and sometimes even painful. And yet, that alien urge deep in her pelvis made her hips ache. She could feel herself moistening. Would it be different this time? He wasn't exactly a man, after all. Releasing it, she stood and backed away.

Lew was watching her with his shining eyes. His chest was rising and falling harshly. He looked so tired. The desire to comfort him, to help him, made her stagger back towards him. With a gasp, she dropped to her knees and braced her head against his hip.

Lew stroked her hair. 'You don't have to do anything.'

'Yes, I do.'

Clawing at the bed, she pulled herself to her feet. She glared down at him. Her hair fell around her face as she leaned over and kissed him. Then she climbed into bed with him. She dared to straddle his hips. Her chest was tight. Her heart was pounding in her throat.

She touched his chest, then reached for her shirt and pulled it off. Next went her bra. The heat was burning her neck. His eyes were darting over her. Kylie turned to her pants.

Dropping back to the floor, she slid off her shoes and pulled them off. Her underwear followed. She waited a moment, her hair draped over her breasts, her hands covering her groin. She was looking across the room to the little kitchenette. That stupid little kitchenette that had ruined everything.

She felt a rush of anger. It isn't his fault, she reminded herself. But he wants it. So it's kind of his fault. Kylie shook her head. It didn't matter. Things had changed. Her mother couldn't leave and Kylie wasn't going to abandon her. There was no way she could go back to Earth without her. And as for Lew ...

His yellow gaze latched onto hers. It would be even worse. The thought of never seeing him again felt like someone was driving their fist into her belly, twisting it hard into her diaphragm, over and over again until it felt like a drill.

Kylie was trembling as she crawled back into bed with him, once again straddling his hips. Goose bumps erupted all over her body. She didn't know where to begin. She could feel his erection like a hot burning brand pressed up between her lips. It made her tingle. It sent little shocks of energy up through her groin. It made her nipples itch.

A tear spilled down her cheek, which she quickly swiped away. Lew remained quiet, unmoving. He didn't seem to have the strength to move. Time was running out. She had to do it. She knew she was going to do it.

Stop torturing yourself and just do it!

*

Lew didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. This was Kylie's conflict—not his. He wanted her to proceed. He didn't want her to break their bond, obviously, particularly if it meant injury or death for himself. And it felt possible, even likely. He didn't think his body had the strength to deal with it.

It was an unfair predicament for Kylie—and he hated her feeling this way. He carried the guilt for her situation, and yet that gnawing need to bond with her was so much greater, so much more fierce. Did she see it in his eyes? She must be feeling it.