Ice Planet Barbarians (Ice Planet Barbarians, #1)(29)

He growls, clearly enjoying that I’m coming, and just laps harder, which makes my orgasm seem to go on for mile after endless mile. I’m utterly spent and exhausted when he finally lifts his head, his eyes practically glowing like headlights, and licks his sinfully wet mouth.

I feel wrung out at the sight of that. I’ve come so hard and so frequently that I’m pretty sure that wasn’t one orgasm but a dozen stacked on top of one another, cascading with every flick of his talented, talented tongue. “God, your women must have some incredible stamina,” I tell him weakly as he crawls over my body like a big blue-gray panther and begins to nuzzle at my throat. I need a rest break, but he’s raring to go, pressing his mouth along my skin and licking all the parts he finds the softest.

And before long, I’m moaning and dragging my hands over that suede-soft skin, wanting him deep inside me. “Vektal,” I breathe and lock a leg around his hips. He’s so warm, the purring inside him fierce.

He touches my cheek and murmurs something soft and sweet and then my name. His hips settle between mine, and I realize again just how big his equipment is. Suddenly all of his enthusiastic licking takes on a new meaning because at least I’m wet as hell, which will ease the way.

“Georgie,” he murmurs, and I realize he’s saying something I’ve heard before. “Georgie sa-akh Vektal.” He nuzzles my throat again, and I feel his cock press against my core. It feels enormous, but I’m in this until the end, and I’m ready for him to fill me up. So ready.

Beyond ready, really.

He presses his lips to mine again and then begins to push into me. My body’s stretching to accommodate him, and I drag my hands over his skin, stroking and petting as he presses in, inch by thick inch.

When he’s seated entirely, I learn something new. That knob? The bony ridge I had no idea what it was for? I’ve still got no freaking clue, but I do notice that as he sinks into me, it pushes through my labia and brushes against my clit. I’m trying to analyze this unique sensation when he moves his hips and shallowly thrusts again.

And every nerve ending lights up in response to the push of that knob against my clit.

“Oooooh,” I moan. It reminds me of the time I had a Rabbit Vibrator and it worked my clit at the same time as my core. Having sex with Vektal? It’s like that, but better. Even more intense.

This . . . might kill me out of sheer pleasure. I cling to him as he begins to thrust again, sucking in a breath when his ridge pushes against my clit again. Did I think that the pussy-eating was too much to handle because of his sheer enthusiasm? It’s nothing compared to the mind-blowing sensation of him fucking the hell out of me, that ridge teasing my clit with every stroke, the ridges inside him humming against my g-spot. I come again. And again. I claw his back and scream my pleasure as he thrusts into me over and over, whispering soft words. I’m coming apart with every stroke of his cock, until I’m boneless and weak and mewing—

—and still coming.

My exhausted legs quiver as his strokes begin to take on a wilder edge. Vektal bares his fangs, his own features tightening as an orgasm rises inside him. I rake my nails down the tough, ridged spots on his chest and arms, and he growls low in his throat and shudders. I can tell he likes that, and I do it again. Come for me, baby, I think as he wrings another orgasm out of me and I choke on the overwhelming pleasure.

Then I feel him pulse inside me. Like the rest of his body, his semen feels several degrees hotter than my skin, and I can feel it as he comes, his growl of pleasure becoming louder and louder, the purr in his throat a thunderous rumble. He thrusts hard, and his fingers dig into my hips as he comes, and I feel him coming inside me, over and over again. It’s a new sensation for me.

Hell, all of this is.

But when he collapses on top of me like a big delicious blanket, and then presses his ridged forehead to my flat one and murmurs my name?

I feel content. Boneless—of course—but utterly, completely content. And I want to ask him if he wants to take me up the mountain tomorrow. But it seems like the wrong time to ask. I don’t want him to think I only slept with him because I want him to do something for me.

If I’m totally honest with myself, I slept with him because I’m completely attracted to him. The horns, the blue-gray skin, the tail, the weird cock, all of it. His gruff, protective demeanor. It does it for me.

He shifts over me, clearly trying to pull his weight off of me. I cling to him, because I love the feel of his big warm body over mine, in mine. And I sigh with contentment.

Vektal, on the other hand, begins to kiss me again. I feel him move his hips in a shallow thrust.

A small moan rises from my throat again. “It’s a good thing you can’t make me pregnant, buddy,” I say, even as I lock my feet behind his back.

? ? ?





VEKTAL


All night long, my khui thrums with contentment in my chest.

I have claimed my mate. Over and over, she’s welcomed me into her small, soft body, until we’re both exhausted from pleasure. Being with a resonance mate is like no other feeling; I am pleased to my very marrow with my sweet Georgie. I cannot wait to return to the tribal caverns with her. My hand caresses her soft skin even as she snores in my ear, the sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the cave-mouth covering.

I cannot wait for her to swell with my child. Our child. My khui was wise to pick her, even though she is small. She is strong in heart and spirit, and creative and enthusiastic in the furs. She doesn’t resonate for me. Not yet. But when she carries a khui, she will thrum with pleasure at my touch, like I do at hers.