Alien, Mine by Sandra Harris Read Free Book Online

softness.
    What is it with me? Christ, that’d go over so well, molesting the general of this base.
    Mhartak sat straighter .
    Unease or military posture? Had he sensed her wanton attraction?
    She took a deep breath, steadied her wayward body, and traced slow circles over the smooth skin at the edges of his eyes, alert for any sign of distaste. He seemed to relax, so she continued, enjoying the flares of sensual heat licking at her skin. After a few moments, she walked her fingers up over his brow-ridges. Tiny blasts of exquisite sensation exploded into her fingertips. She suppressed a gasp and pressed into a brow-scale. The texture softened and heated, pulsing beneath her touch like sensuality incarnate. Desire stirred and rippled through her sex.
    The pressure against her fingers increased. Had he leaned into her hands? Perhaps massaging that area gave him relief. She pushed down her burgeoning lust and kneaded fingers eager to savour the erogenous sizzle into his brow-ridges.
    Are his other scales like this?
    She smoothed her hands up and back over his head. The warm, firm texture of resilient skin pleasured her senses. Slanting sunlight glimmered on the streaks of gold adorning his head ridges. She brushed an exploratory hand over them.
    He jerked.
    “Sorry.”
    Hell, the golden ridges were swelling. Had she done something to anger him?
    “Perhaps I should stop.”
    “No! Er, however, would you be so good as to avoid the . . . ” He cleared his throat. “Ridge area?”
    “Sure.”
    Why? Can’t be that sensitive. Not if it’s used in battle.
    She moved her hands to massage his scalp, enjoying the sensuous pleasure of touching and providing relief. Her fingertips skimmed the base of his cranial ridge. A blaze of molten fire stormed through her body. Her ears caught a smothered groan.
    “Sorry.” She pulled her hands back then centred her attention on his neck and probed her thumbs beneath the collar of his shirt. Electricity zapped up her arms. Her knees buckled. She desperately locked them and managed to remain upright.
    Dear Lord, the scales lining his spine spark with more vitality than those on his brow-ridges.
    She kneaded the joints of his neck with her thumbs. Erotic sensation fluttered through her belly then curled into her breasts. Her sex throbbed in time with the heat thrumming through her blood. She turned her attention to his broad shoulders and damn near collapsed in a puddle.
    Lord, he’s built!
    She longed to discover just how well. A scent, the freshness of pine underlain with the tang of lemon and something intrinsically male, entranced her . An image of his bulging, burnished-bronze chest seduced her mind.
    Not a good idea . . .
    But her hands were already smoothing across the line of his muscular shoulders. Her eager fingers speared over his collarbones and danced along the edge of his pectoral plates.
    C hrist, Sandrea you’re grop— Oh-My-God!
    Sensual hunger jammed in her throat. Her eyes closed. Heat bloomed along every nerve and pooled at her thighs. Never had she felt anything so vibrant, so alive . She ran her fingers back and forth across warm solidity, drowning in the rapture torching her blood.
    Strong hands gripped her forearms and stilled them. Her eyes snapped open.
    Oh, crap!
    She’d leaned forward so far her bandaged breasts cradled his head. His ridges, swollen to an even greater extent, must feel her every breath. She jerked back, but the grip on her captured arms held her fast. Fear snaked through her gut, all the more powerful for she knew she was in the wrong.
    His head rocked from side-to-side then rolled a loose circle. His swollen ridges brushed slowly across the upper slopes of her breasts. The hurried breath she gasped to apologize caught in her throat. Exquisite fire speared to her nipples, and her body shuddered with need.
    She swallowed, closed her eyes, and did her damnedest to control the wild response of her body. Warm sensation danced over her flesh where his