Free Venomous: Erotic Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 1) by Penelope Fletcher Page B

speaking a human language, he shot me a considering look. “Like Lumen’s tongue. Come back, teach more.”
    Fear hunched my shoulders at the thought of leaving the safety of his nook. “Where are we going?”
    “Expel waste water,” he reminded.
    “I can hold it.”
    Ignoring me, he picked up the canister then handed it to me. “Gather food.” He levelled me a look that said I didn’t fool him. “Must void.”
    At another mention of peeing, my bladder throbbed.
    I crossed my legs and grimaced. “It’s safe?”
    “No.” He turned. “Stay close always. No leave mine side.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “Never, ever, mine Lumen.”
    The corner of my mouth curved when he rasped my name.
    Unlike his previous attempt to speak human, the way he shaped the word sounded exotic.
    “Aren’t you fighting today?” I asked.
    “Rest time. Healing. Two-rotations dig or fight. Then rest.” His expression hardened. “Sorkbhal want gladiators strong.”
    As he leant to place his weight against the stone, I raked my gaze over his back then lower.
    Muscular to the nth degree.
    Circling a finger around the canister spout, I considered a long, well-formed leg.
    A lean thigh tapered to defined calf muscle, and a massive foot with razor-sharp talons shifted back and forth in a rather human manner.
    Helpless to deny my curiosity, my gaze latched onto his firm buttocks.
    Toes curling, I averted my eyes to the pitted clay wall.
    So his unearthly appearance was peculiar?
    He wasn’t ugly, just not human.
    It would be foolish to pretend I didn’t find his powerful frame, rugged features and dominant aura attractive.
    His features and limbs were arranged in such a familiar way, and if I adjusted my perception of attractive skin shades to include olive and gold then boom .
    Hottest freaking male this side of the galaxy.
    His differences were still conspicuous, the spiky ears, slanted, all black eyes, harshly defined lips and flattened nose bridge that ascended to a high, proud forehead, but I now appreciated the masculine beauty of the whole.
    Does he find me attractive?
    At the thought he might find me lacking, I straightened, and my mouth pushed out .
    Well, even if I’m not what he fancies it hasn’t hindered his libido.
    I dismissed the fact there were no other females around.
    The most daunting thing about Venomous was the sheer magnitude of his size.
    Bottom teeth gnawing the corner of my upper lip, I checked the impulse to ask him to straighten then measure him by hands.
    He’d hit over seven feet upright, yet his body proportions were stunning in their symmetry.
    Never had a man made me feel petite, as most were only a foot taller than me, but this male did.
    And he wasn’t even standing straight.
    I took my time inhaling, to encourage composure, and sucked down a lungful of the fresh stripped bark, crushed ginger aroma saturating the moist air of the den.
    My sex clenched.
    A strange reaction to a smell, but whatever.
    I inhaled again then shuddered.
    Eyes hooded, lips parting, I shuffled from foot to foot as my lower belly roiled with a familiar ache.
    His seed dripped warm between my inner thighs.
    Unlike the trauma of before the sensation now felt enticingly illicit, erotic, a reminder of how he strained and bowed over my naked....
    Snapping out of my unsettling haze, I cast a horrified glance down my filthy body. “I can’t leave this room.”
    The entrance was already open.
    He glowered over his shoulder then crooked a finger. “Come.”
    “I’m naked,” I whispered as if he couldn’t see that. I held the canister to my breasts. “ Naked , naked.”
    His gaze slinked over me. He pointed at my panties. “Vents covered.”
    Clearly he saw no problem with the rest of me being on display as long as my pussy wasn’t presenting .
    If I’d been less distracted, I might have wondered why he spoke of my sex in plural form.
    “Those are males ,” I hissed, “out there,” on a wild swing of my arm