Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
“Wait. A century ago? How old are you?” Her gaze darts back and forth between us.
“I’m one hundred and thirty,” I tell her.
“I’m one hundred and thirty-four.”
She gasps and pushes onto her elbows. “Seriously?”
I nod. “You won’t age at the same rate on Eleadia either. We live a cleaner life there. Our air is pure. Our food is not filled with preservatives and pesticides. Our water is clean. You tasted it. Our scientists believe the human females we bring back with us will also live for centuries.”
Her heart rate picks up again at that announcement, so I lift her hand to my lips and hold her gaze while I prick her fingers. All of them. She doesn’t pull away this time. The first two pricks are meant to calm her. The last two are aphrodisiacs. I glance at Bamgin as I do it. He knows. He’s touching her. It’s obvious what I’ve done.
“That’s so weird,” she murmurs.
I pull her middle finger into my mouth and suck it gently. It’s instinctive. Yes, we read a lot about how to please a human female, but now that I’m here, lying next to her, I don’t need any of that. I know what I want to do to her, and I can tell what she craves.
Bamgin leans over and kisses her, his hand sliding up to cup her neck and cheek.
The moan that escapes her lips is so sweet, and my cock hardens further. Watching Bamgin kiss our girl is almost as sexy as doing it myself.
I set my hand on her thigh and stroke her soft skin, running my fingers closer and closer to her pussy. Her scent is intoxicating. Whatever she’s wearing under this denim—and I assume I’ll find sexy panties—is going to be soaked.
Our Little girl bends her knee closer to me, and I lift my leg to tuck it between hers, trapping her knee. She cries out against Bamgin’s lips as she arches her body. “Oh God…”
Bamgin lifts his head, giving me a view of her face again. He tips his head my way. “She’s delicious, and she smells so fucking good.”
Mags whimpers. “I— Oh God…” she mutters again, squirming.
I reach for the buttons on the front of her sweater. “Can I take this off, Little one?”
She swallows hard, her cheeks pinkening adorably, but she nods.
While I work on the buttons, Bamgin strokes her cheek. “We want to see you, Mags. We want to make you feel good. Okay?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“We’ll be careful not to jostle your leg,” I tell her.
“My leg…” She glances down and then groans. “Holy cow. I almost forgot. It doesn’t hurt at all.”
“We won’t let it hurt, Little one,” Bamgin says. “I suspect right now you’re simply preoccupied. We haven’t nicked you with anything to stop the pain yet, but we will when it’s necessary.”
“You really think your doctor on the ship can fix it?” Her voice wobbles. She’s trying to focus, but she’s also wiggling as I part the two sides of her white sweater, revealing her chest, which is still covered in a white lace bra.
“Without a single doubt, Baby girl,” I murmur as I lower my lips to her skin, kissing the space between her breasts.
She grabs my bicep and bucks her chest off the bed. “You make me feel so naughty,” she whispers.
“That’s good, Mags,” Bamgin says.
I can’t resist nuzzling along the edge of her bra before lifting my head a few inches, pleased to see there’s a clasp in the front. I don’t have a clue how to open it, and I’m tempted to tear it or break it with my teeth, but I suppose that will upset her. She has no idea that she will never wear this lacey lingerie again. She’ll never wear a shirt or a dress or anything that covers her chest once we remove her clothes.
Surprising me, our girl wiggles her hands up to her bra and unclasps it herself. She’s breathing heavily as she exposes herself, her gaze coming to mine before shifting to Bamgin. “I’m not…”
I bring a finger to her breast and circle her nipple. “You’re not what, Mags?”
“My boobs. They’re muscular from working out so much. Not full and soft like other women.”
“Fucking perfection,” Bamgin says reverently. He mimics me, circling her other nipple.
I watch in fascination as the bud swells to a hard point. I’ve seen videos. I’ve read about this. But seeing it in real life is mesmerizing. I want to taste her nipple more than I want my next breath. Unable to resist, I lower my head and suck the precious tip between my lips.
Our girl’s hand threads in my hair. She holds me to her breast, panting and squirming. Fuck, she’s precious.
I release her glorious nipple with a pop, moving my head out of the way so Bamgin can taste her, too.