Enticed By The Corsair (Corsairs, #3)

by Ruby Dixon

Me, I appreciate a good feisty female. Cat and Fran have slowly won me over because they’re the most stubborn, irritating, headstrong females I’ve ever met, human or no.

She nods, and I wish she’d say more, but she doesn’t. It’s disappointing. I want to know what’s going on in that head of hers, what she’s thinking. I’m hungry to hear her thoughts in a way that I’ve never been with another female before. Something deep inside me instinctually recognizes her as mine. I’ve heard other mesakkah talk about it.

I can't wait for the day she realizes that the way she can please me best is to tell me to kef off. Today's not that day, though.

A second later, she stiffens and her legs jerk up. She scuttles backward, sitting up against the head of the bed, the blankets discarded. “There's something in the bed! It touched my leg!” Something in the bed? I pull up the covers and peer underneath. Nothing but my legs, still covered by my clothing. “There's nothing there.” “I felt something.” She's trembling. “My tail perhaps?” It brushed against her when I lay down. “Your…tail?” Her head tilts. “You have a tail?” “Well…yes. All mesakkah do.”

Iris continues to stroke my tail, and I close my eyes, determined not to let her innocent exploration make me lose control. I'd never touch her…but that doesn't mean I won’t come in my pants like a schoolboy if she keeps going as she does. “Your tail is very long,” she murmurs, and when she finds the base of it, she jerks away as she realizes she just brushed up against the fabric of my trou. “Oh. Sorry about that.” “It's fine,” I grit out. “I didn't mean to touch you in…such a personal way.” “You didn't,” I lie. “You can touch me anywhere you want. I don't mind it.” I'm just spouting words, of course, trying to make her comfortable. But when her expression turns to one of interest, I'm filled with a mixture of hot anticipation and chagrin. “Do you want to?”

“Mesakkah cap our horns when we come of age. It's a sign of adulthood. Of civilization. I don't know why we do it, just that if you don't cap them, you're looked at like some sort of wild man who just emerged from the jungle on a very backwards moon.”

I'm frustrated by her small, accepting nod. It makes me feel worse than ever. How can I love her and want to shake her at the same time? But I do.

“Make me forget,” she whispers. “Remind me that I'm in a good place.” “You're with me,” I tell her between presses of my mouth to hers. I am hungry for more, so much more. I love the feel of her slight body pressing against mine as we kiss, and my cock aches, my needs long suppressed. “In my bed. In my arms.”

I don't know how to get rid of all of this frustrated energy, so I just hold fistfuls of his shirt and shake angrily. “Don't do this to prove a point!” “It's not to prove a point,” Alvos says. “It's because I love you and you're mine.” I suck in a breath.

“You're not as soft here.” I let my fingers play over his chest. Alyvos groans. “Never tell a male he's soft.”

“We can always wait for gravity to return,” Alyvos tells me, a huff of amusement in his voice. “No,” I tell him, and wrap my arms around his torso—or try to. He's big and brawny and I'm pretty sure I look like a barnacle against him, but I don't care.

“Are we still floating?” “We are. As soon as I can bear to let you go, we should probably strap down so there won’t be any accidents.” He kisses my jaw again, and then my cheek. “I just can't bear to let you go yet.” I'm okay with that.