More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She’s gone very, very still under my touch. I’ve fallen still too: it’s different touching her—very, very different than touching an animal. After a moment, she catches my fingers. “Eyym fyyne,” she says softly.
She confirms it. “I’ll be so good at pretending that. You just watch.” I tsk. “One of us has to.” Her mouth opens slightly before she bursts with shocked laughter. “You didn’t just say that!”
Would you like to ride with pirates as we appropriate merchandise from individuals who aren’t aware they’re parting with it, or would you rather sit on a farm bored straight out of your skull until we hunt for your Earth?”
“I’m glad my temporary owner is nice. Thank you.” “Don’t…” he starts softly. “Please don’t think of me as your owner. Just… consider me a friend.”
“I won’t tolerate you giving her attitude. You act like a lady with her or you’ll be this fall’s throw rug at the hearth, do you follow me you egg-headed slapperfish?” She spits out my hand.
“Meesahrah? Walk. On.” ...Still nothing. Kota’s tags jingle and her ear knocks my hand as she cocks her head. Breslin’s voice explodes. “THROW RUG!” The wagon gives a half-hearted heave.
With more confidence than I would have thought myself possible, I tell an alien creature (that tried to go full Dyson on my arm) to trust that I know what she should do—and she does, she trusts me and listens obediently. It’s hugely… satisfying.
“Outside it is then. Sorry, Meesahrah, you stay.” Bells jingle. “I said stay—I’ll be back soon.” There’s a loud huff and the bells fall silent.
“You’re not wearing a shirt, are you?” He snorts. “I’m not wearing a stitch.” I sit up. “You’re naked?” I squeak. The mischief content in his words is 100-proof. “Woman, it’s not as if you can see anything.” I gasp and a quake of laughter attacks me. “You did not just say that!”
I want Sanna to be happy while she’s here. “Chatter to me,” I tell her. “What?” Sanna asks before a laugh bells from her, causing Kota to look up at her sharply. “Yeah, I can do that.”
She goes still as I lean in, cheek brushing hers. “Sometimes,” I whisper, “the ride is worth the fall.”
We start to follow him out of the paddock when something catches me from behind. Having a fair idea of who it is, I go still and slowly reach up to find Meesahrah’s nose, and below that is the bunched nape of my coat clamped between her lips. My fingers trace past her fangs and follow the line of a mischievous smile. “You’re going to get in trouble,” I warn her.
I find out it’s possible to hear someone’s—somealien’s—shock. “You shave your legs?” “If I’d known I was going to have to wear a skirt? Definitely.” Something brushes me; I have a second to register this feels like his shoulder before the big meaty thing moves into me and my hands land on his back because Breslin’s taken up the hem of my skirt, bared my leg, and hooked my ankle over his knee for an examination of my limb.
“Forget your horror at the oddness of human customs for just a moment, your alienfeelings aren’t important right now—” “You sass-mouthed mite.”
“Will Meesahrah be having little Meesahrahs?” “A terrifying thought.” “Oh please. You make it sound like she’s a terror.” “She is.”
But then his laughter cuts off abruptly. I wonder why until his hand lands on my lower back and he murmurs, “Hurts?” It does ache but the fact that he noticed? “How…?” “Look at your nose wrinkle.” He laughs under his breath, and I hear what he doesn’t say: you’re a strange little alien, but I’m fond of you.
Some of my muscles loosen like he’s ordering them to do it, and when they don’t all listen, he digs his thumb and fingers into them until everything submits under his ministrations. I basically melt into a useless puddle of goo. “There,” he croons, digits giving one last tender massage before he drops his hand.
Breslin’s beyond likable. I almost wish I hadn’t had so many hits of his sweetness. He’s dangerously addictive.
Breslin’s hands land on my hips, and he gives me the lift I need. And not gonna lie: having Breslin’s hands on me is my secret highlight to these trips. To think that being lifted up and down from the wagon used to make me nervous. Not anymore.
I’m Breslin-infatuated. I’m crazy for his voice, his smell, and his hands on me. He’s made me an addict when it comes to sleeping with him. But I want more than actual sleeping. I want to do all the things in this bed that have nothing to do with sleeping.
What do good men, hard-working men, and wonderful men have in common? They’re already married.
When Breslin gathers his breakfast and announces that the house is all mine to get ready for the day in private, I wait just long enough for him to close the door before I roll over and use my spare moments of privacy to cry into my pillow. Kota’s tags jingle and the bed depresses as she puts her paws near my shoulder, and laying her head close enough to my face that she can touch me with her nose. She whimpers and I sob into alien goose feathers—or whatever fluffy things plump the pillows—as I remind myself of all the reasons it’s worth going back home.
Goosebumps have broken out all over my body and I’m so lightheaded I could drop right here. If I do, he might carry me.
“Sanna,” Breslin says, and squeezes me again— Just like that! Harder! Harder! Don’t stop!
My self control is honestly astounding. It’s also draining, and this is what’s going to be the death of me. Every time Breslin hugs me tighter in his sleep, tugs me closer, tucks his chin harder against my neck or half-nuzzles into my hair…
I want to turn in his arms and attack him with my mouth, with my hands—with my starving vagina. He’s really making the celibacy choice painful.
His hand slides three and a half inches—I can tell you exactly because I’ve never been more attuned to a touch on my body in my entire life—and he pats me. It’s like light taps to the cushioned parts of my backside. Breslin’s basically spanking my ass. He. Is. Killing! Me!
“I look forward to you coming—” ME TOO: LET’S DO THIS! RIGHT NOW IS GOOD. SO GOOD. “—along with me today. We could make a day of it after the trimming if you want. Have a meal in town. Sound good?”
“Sounds so good,” I manage. Breslin spanks my ass again in his completely oblivious way and I bury my fa...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
His lips touch the top of my head. The aching spot between my legs clenches so hard, I choke on a whimper. He pulls back a little. “Are you alright?” NOPE. I AM NOT. “Umm hmm. I’m great. I’ll follow you out in a bit.”
The moment the door shuts behind him, I don’t wait to politely make sure he didn’t forget anything. I roll to my stomach, shove my hand into my panties and come twice without any effort and not nearly as much relief as I need. I reach around for a pillow and cram it against my pelvis and hump out a third orgasm, and finally, I can think again. I desperately try to make that thinking be about something other than incredible sex with Breslin, though admittedly, I don’t manage my goals well.
When Breslin’s chin brushes the top of my head and rests there, heavy, hard, and hot—my brain melts. My breasts feel heavier and my back arches into his heavy arm still banded around me and the area between my legs is reacting directly to this alpha male stimuli he’s throwing off. I wasn’t expecting him to go territorial over me—but I am so, so into it.
The happy chemicals flood me when his mouth moves against my hair. “I don’t like seeing your smile dim.” His lips press down on my head. I twitch hard. Breslin kissed me and I just had a mini orgasm or a seizure.
“You are not fat,” he insists with a severity that’s totally lost on me because it’s warming my heart. I go for a full-on hug. “Thank you. I’ve decided I’m not going to argue with you about this.” His body relaxes over mine, enveloping me. His voice is rough. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to. I don’t fight with females. I’ve learned it’s a waste of my time.”
A hand spans my ribs. “Behave.” I wonder if he really thinks that’ll work. “Of course. I’m just pointing out the facts, Master.” Lips brush my ear, and I go still. His voice is filled with a dangerous dash of warning—and I like it a whole lot. “Do you know what happens to mouthy salks?”
“My reactions to other males around you are getting sharper-edged—and it’s only going to get worse. I’m going into rut.”
Meesahrah, for all that she’s a brat, really seems to like me. And despite her tendency to suck my clothing, fingers, hands, and my arms into her mouth, I like her too. She also chases the other Narwari away from me when I walk through the pasture. When Breslin witnessed it, he was stunned. He told me it’s what Narwari females do when they’ve got a new foal.
“You kritted lie. We’d be miserable and she’d kill me in my sleep.” “You think she’d wait til you’re sleeping?”
“You’ll have to tell it to calm down. We need to go out there and say hi.” “Come here and say hi,” I tell her, voice husky. She shakes her head. “I want to—” “Then come here. I’ll care for all of your wants and I vow I’ll make you feel good. Tevek.”
“I’m going to lower you as a puppy sacrifice now. Prepare yourself.”
