When She’s Pregnant – Risdaverse Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Alien, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
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“Wanna go to bed, then?” Naomi turns, holding her hand out. “Come with me.”

Biting back another groan, I follow after her, letting her lead me through her small house. I should pay attention to our surroundings, note the things I can do to help her out with her farm as her mate (if she wants me, that is) but all I can do is stare at her enticing backside and how it sways when she walks. Then we are in her private quarters, and she gestures at the small single bed that is not nearly big enough for a full-grown mesakkah, much less one with a mate sleeping at his side.

I will have to bring her a bed for both of us, I decide. For now, though, this will do. “You wish to do this here?”

“I mean, we don’t have to—” she begins.

Before she can make excuses or hesitate, I sweep her up in my arms. Naomi weighs nothing, but she makes a startled sound just the same. I set her down gently on the bed and then fall to my knees in front of it, ready to worship. “I have dreamed of this,” I confess, parting her knees with gentle, reverent fingers and spreading her open. “Ever since you left, I have thought of nothing but tasting you, Naomi. This is a dream of mine.”

“It’s been less than a day, Ainar.”

“And?”

She lets out a shuddery sound and I can feel her legs tremble. “Who am I to mess with dreams?”

I run my hand down one calf, starting with easy touches, since she seems to be nervous all of a sudden. To think that we showered together and I tried to impregnate her last night. She fondled my tail and sac in the shower, and I kneel before her, naked. Yet now she is nervous? I wish she could realize just how momentous this is for me.

I am about to pleasure my mate. Because Naomi is mine. I know that more with every second I spend in her presence. “If you tell me to stop, I will stop,” I promise her. “I will never joke about such things or try to coax you into saying ‘yes.’ Your ‘no’ is very important to me. Understand?”

She nods, her eyes wide as she watches me.

“May I breathe in your scent first?”

“Sure?” Naomi sounds a little confused, but my request makes her relax. She eases a bit, and I take her foot in my hand and lift it to my nose.

I breathe in her scent, sniffing her ankle and the arch of her foot.

Wild giggles break from her, and she puts a hand to her mouth. “Sorry! Sorry!”

My lips twitch at her nervous laughter. “Did I do something funny?”

“I’m just wondering if you’re secretly a foot guy. If you are, that’s cool. It’s just unexpected.” Her cheeks are flushed with amusement, her eyes sparkling.

A foot guy? Does she mean a cobbler? I shake my head. “I have no secret jobs, Naomi. I am merely a custodian for the settlement, sent here by the military. I do not have time to make shoes.”

Her brows furrow, and then she snicker-snorts with more laughter. “No, silly. I meant you’re a foot guy. That you get off on sniffing my feet or something.”

“I probably could,” I confess. “But I think I would rather lick your cunt more than sniff your foot. I think I am a cunt guy.” Yes. This seems right.

“Oh,” she breathes, and her laughter dies away, replaced by a soft look in her eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine, too.”

“I am just breathing in your scent because I want to memorize it,” I tell her, and run the tip of my nose up her calf. I do not tell her that I have noticed her nervousness, and that is why I am taking my time and breathing in her scent. I want her arousal scent to return, not her nervous laughter. If it takes toying with her feet for a bit longer, I shall happily do so. “Tell me if it troubles you.”

“No trouble.”

I lift her leg a little higher, and she reclines back on her elbows, watching me as I sniff her leg. And because she smells so sweet and lovely, and her skin looks so soft, I cannot help but press my lips to the inside of her thigh.

Naomi makes a low noise in her throat.

“Still good?” I ask, making certain.

“Still good.”

“Excellent, because you smell much better up here.” I continue to rub my nose along the inside of her thigh, heading toward the apex of her, where her scent is strongest and that tuft of dark hair calls my name. Her thighs quiver when I press my lips to them again, and when I glance up at her, Naomi’s nipples are tight, her lips parted as she watches me. “You can touch me,” I offer. “My horns will make excellent hand-holds.”



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