Aliens Hijacked My Heart (Awakened Womb Book 2), page 4
“Yes,” I said, just as surprised. “I was frustrated.”
He furrowed his brow, looking at his orange tufts. “Because I’m doing this incorrectly? I told you I wasn’t good at this type of thing.”
“No, no,” I said gently. “You’re doing fine, Jaeyoung. It is because...”
How could I put my feelings into words? If he were a fellow Maeleon, words would have been unnecessary—I could’ve simply connected our feelers and directly transferred my emotions. But I didn’t know if that was possible with a human. I should’ve asked Zat’tor.
“You refuse acts of service, and offers of comfort,” I stated. “That upsets me.”
He blinked at me like he didn’t know how to respond. “Oh. I’m... sorry.” He stared into the orchard with a distant expression. “I’m used to doing everything on my own. I don’t need others to help me.”
“But what if they want to help you?” I countered.
His gaze slid back to mine. Their dark depths wavered in thought.
“Why should anybody want to help me? I’m perfectly functional. I don’t need assistance.”
I tilted my head. “That’s quite selfish. Is that a human trait?”
“W-what?” he spat, flustered.
He looked upset. Did I offend him?
“Wow.” He let out a weak laugh. “You’re the first person who’s ever called me selfish.”
“I’m sorry. We thrive by helping one another. It is considered selfish to refuse help because it implies you think you know best for everything. But perhaps our cultures are different.”
After a pause, he sighed heavily. “No. You’re right. It’s a me thing. I’ve always been like this. I have always been expected to succeed at everything, no questions asked. And I usually do—because there’s no other option.” He grimaced at the orange fibers between his fingers. “But then, when I’m not good at something right away, it frustrates me.”
My chest felt unusually warm. I’d never heard him speak so much at once. Did he finally feel comfortable enough to open up to me?
“That is a heavy responsibility,” I said, stepping closer to him. “You must feel tired from carrying that weight.”
He blinked at me, wide-eyed. He acted like he’d never heard such reassuring words before.
Staring into the half-stretched orange tufts between his fingers, he murmured, “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
I placed my tentacles on the back of his hands and guided them like an extension of my own hands. Jaeyoung’s fingers were in the correct position. All he had to do was keep going.
With my gentle encouragement, the featureless blob evolved into a usable piece of fabric. His face softened with hope, astonished at his own creation.
“See?” I said. “You can be good at this, too. You simply had to try.”
He huffed, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Only because you helped.”
I mirrored the expression. “That’s what Maeleons do.”
My tentacle scooped the orange patch from his hands and brought it to my still-knitting claws. I worked quickly, incorporating Jaeyoung’s novice patch with my skilled blue one. In no time at all, the result was a striking orange-and-blue onesie—perfectly sized for Jaeyoung.
“Here,” I offered.
Again, he looked shocked. “Wait. This is for me?”
I trilled with amusement. “Who else would it be for? The trees?”
“Linn’ar, I...”
“Take it. Please.”
Jaeyoung hesitantly reached for the onesie. As his fingers grazed the silky soft garment, his black eyes glinted with emotion, wet and fathomless.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, bowing his head. “I appreciate this gift.”
A fuzzy warmth unfurled between my ribs. Being with Jaeyoung planted seeds of joy inside my body, and seeing him happy made them sprout and bloom.
“Guess I should put it on,” he suggested with a wry smile. “Could you help me out of this hard suit? There are a couple small red buttons on the back of my neck.”
Excitement rippled down my spine as I recalled Zat’tor’s knowledge about humans and their nudity shyness. If Jaeyoung was willing to undress in front of me, did that mean he was willing to go further, too?
5 / Jaeyoung
I was still reeling from being called selfish as Linn’ar’s claw pressed the buttons on the back of my neck.
Me. Selfish.
It felt like he slapped me in the face with that word. I wasn’t upset. More like flabbergasted.
My whole life, I’d thought of my powerful independence as a good thing. I had to admit that hearing about it from a different perspective knocked me on my ass a little.
My hard suit hissed as the pressure released. I stepped out of it, putting it aside in a neat pile on the ground. Now there was nothing between me and Linn’ar. Both of us were naked.
Logically, I knew there was no inherent shame in nudity. It came from what our human culture taught us. But in practice, I felt highly vulnerable, like an unearthed grub.
Especially since my cock was out, and Linn’ar’s wasn’t. Evolution really screwed up when scrotums won out over cloacas.
Meanwhile, Linn’ar looked me over like he’d just won the lottery. I couldn’t help but blush under his scrutiny.
I cleared my throat. “I’m going to put on the onesie now.”
His feelers drooped with what I could only assume was disappointment.
I raised a brow. Didn’t he want me to wear it? Or was the thrill of my naked human body preferable to accepting his gift?
“Or... I could wait,” I suggested, fishing for reaction.
It worked. Linn’ar’s feelers perked back up like the tail of a dog whose owner just returned home.
An amused huff escaped me. His body language was refreshingly honest. It was nice interacting with someone who had nothing to hide.
“I’ll keep this for later,” I stated, folding the brand-new onesie and putting it in the clothes pile with my hard suit.
Keeping with his brutal honesty, Linn’ar’s gaze inspected me eagerly. He made no attempt to hide his interest. Then again, why should he? I’d practically put him under the microscope last night during our first research session. It was only fair that he got to return the favor.
I glanced over to the clothing pile. I brought my pocket-sized study kit with me. It wasn’t like we couldn’t start our second session early...
“What do you say to a little field research?” I suggested.
A pulse of bright pink rippled across Linn’ar’s feelers. “That sounds wonderful!”
I took a mental note of the cycling colors. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him display metachrosis—a fancy word for changing colors, like a chameleon or squid. The feelers were vividly expressive in both their movement and appearance.
And what did Linn’ar say earlier? That they weren’t a sexual organ... but could be? That definitely required further investigation.
“I’d like to propose a cultural exchange,” I said.
Linn’ar tilted his head. “Oh?”
I steeled my nerves, though I had no reason to be anxious. This was for science.
“You can explore my body to your heart’s content,” I began.
Linn’ar visibly brightened. No doubt he was excited about that prospect.
I went on. “And in exchange, I’d like to study your feelers.”
He froze as his magenta eyes widened. “Ah.”
I couldn’t gauge his reaction. Did he not want to accept? Or worse, had I offended him? I thought back to all of my interactions with Maeleons, but couldn’t recall any instance of a human touching a Maeleon’s feelers—or even another Maeleon touching them. It was possible I just committed a cultural taboo without knowing it.
“You don’t have to accept,” I said when he didn’t reply. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
“No, not at all,” Linn’ar said quickly. His feeler mane pulsed with pale greens and blues. Did those colors represent confusion or hesitancy?
But as I watched, something startling happened: a radiant jolt of red exploded over his feelers, cutting through the green and blue hesitation.
Simultaneously, a visible hunger cast itself over Linn’ar’s face. It felt unusual to see him so voracious when he was usually so gentle and doting.
But at some point during our time together, I stopped thinking of him as a hovering mother hen and started seeing him for what he really was—a big, muscular, tentacled alien who wanted to spend all his time with me.
Or, I totally and utterly misread him. That was possible, too.
I shook off the sudden feeling. I had no evidence to support my claim. It was embarrassing. How unscientific of me...
I cleared my throat, willing myself to get back to the task at hand. “It’s fine, Linn’ar. Don’t agree to anything for my sake. If you want to explore me, go ahead.”
His eyes flashed. It was clear he wanted to take on my offer. I didn’t know why that excited me. I blamed it on hormones. They did whatever they pleased, not giving a shit what the body owner wanted.
Linn’ar closed the gap between us so that I had to crane my neck back to look at him. His tongue darted out as he licked his lips.
“You can touch my feelers,” he said slowly. “But I should warn you that they are... sensitive.”
My brows rose in surprise. He implied they were an erogenous zone, but he had an entire mane of them, at least a hundred individual feelers. Wouldn’t they bump into things? Wouldn’t they bump into each other? If they were as sensitive as he made them sound, did that mean Maeleons existed in a constant state of heightened arousal?
Heat flooded my cheeks at the thought. Again with the hormones. When they weren’t performing tasks necessary for basic human function, they did nothing but irritate me.
“That’s fine.” Ignoring my unwilling reaction, I grabbed the study kit from my hard suit pocket. “As long as you’re comfortable with it.”
“Yes, I am.”
I nodded, unfurling the measuring tape. “In that case, I’ll begin by measuring the average feeler length.”
“All right.”
Without my prompting, Linn’ar knelt on the ground to give me easier access. His mane flowed behind him. It was a magnificent piece of biology that reminded me of sea anemones back on Earth.
At first, I found it strange to conduct research while butt-naked, but I quickly got over it. The pull of science swamped any discomfort. I rolled out the entire measuring tape and placed it flush against one of Linn’ar’s feelers.
Instantly, Linn’ar sucked in a small, sharp breath. He went still. His reaction was so sudden that I worried I’d hurt him.
“Was that painful?” I asked, ready to pull back the measuring tape.
“No,” Linn’ar said. His voice was thick.
The feeler in question was rigid now, matching Linn’ar’s spine, but it pulsated rapidly with flashes of color—hot pink, deep red, neon green. I hurried to note its length, then focused on the colors. What did they mean?
“How do you feel right now?” I asked.
His voice caught. “Ah... It feels... good.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. Even though I was performing a purely scientific act, I had to face the truth—I did brush up against Linn’ar’s erogenous zone. Which brought him pleasure.
Which was—sort of, kind of—bringing me pleasure.
I ground my teeth together, ignoring the fluttering sensation in my stomach as much as possible.
Begone, hormones.
But my command was useless. As Linn’ar twitched and shuddered under my touch, my temperature flared up. I couldn’t help but be affected by his little moans and huffs.
“Are you okay?” I asked brusquely, trying to mask my reaction.
“Yes. You don’t have to stop.”
Linn’ar didn’t blush the same way humans did, but he didn’t need to—his feelers revealed everything. They pulsed with flashing colors, flickering in bursts then slowing down, languid and sensual. There was something deeply erotic about it. It was like I could visually see his arousal playing out across his feelers.
My heartbeat pounded in my throat. I swallowed, trying to focus on my task, but my head swam. I heard my racing pulse in my ears.
This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get aroused easily. Except when I binge-ate alien aphrodisiac fruit, but that was different. There was no mind-altering fruit involved this time. It was just me and Linn’ar.
And he was affecting me. It was impossible to ignore the growing erection between my thighs.
I wanted to slap myself.
Did Linn’ar see it? I checked his expression, but he was in a world of his own pleasure, apparently ignorant of my traitorous rising cock.
Good. I wanted to keep it that way.
I stepped behind him to hide my arousal as much as possible while I continued working. I moved on to the next feeler. I chose one in a different section of his mane to gather a variety of data. Taking it gently in my hand, I pressed the measuring tape against it.
Linn’ar shivered, letting out a soft moan.
I stopped.
My cock throbbed.
Goddammit. How was I supposed to work in these conditions?
Through sheer force of will, I took the fucking measurements. And the next ones. By the time I noted down the length of the fourth feeler, I was painfully hard. How could I not be when Linn’ar jerked and groaned every time I touched him?
I bit my lip hard enough to hurt. The sharp sting distracted me from my lust, but only for a second.
This wasn’t working. I had to either postpone this research session or deal with my dick.
My brain wanted the former, but of course, my body craved the latter.
Too bad. I wasn’t about to bow to its whims. In an act of defiance against my raging hormones, I decided to put an end to this.
I expelled a heavy sigh. “Linn’ar, maybe it’s best that we—”
“No,” Linn’ar interrupted desperately. “Please, don’t stop.”
I froze.
He... wanted me to continue?
Turning his head, he shot me a pleading look with glassy magenta eyes. It fired through me like an arrow. I couldn’t refuse.
My desires warred inside me—science versus horniness. It was the ultimate battle. Who would win?
Fuck it. If I had no choice but to be aroused, I was at least going to take some alien dick measurements while going down.
“I won’t stop,” I promised. “But I—I want to measure your cock, please.”
It sounded ridiculous, but I was so beyond caring. Thankfully, Linn’ar was the least judgmental being in the universe. I could say anything to him without worry.
“Oh, yes, of course,” he said breathlessly.
Excitement sparked over my skin. I craned my neck, eager to see it emerge. But seeing it from behind wasn’t enough. Screw my visible erection. Throwing modesty to the wind, I rounded to face Linn’ar and see his cloaca up close.
My gaze was glued to the slit between his haunches. Linn’ar shuddered as the scales slowly parted.
It emerged.
Slipping out from the depths of his cloaca came a long, thick, shiny organ. My heartbeat raced. It kept coming and coming—it felt like it would go on forever, spanning the whole orchard. But it finally stopped, and I revelled in the sight of the whole thing. Of Linn’ar’s entire alien cock in all its slippery glory.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was big. Bigger than I expected, even with all of Levi’s ranting and raving about his mate’s package. Levi was known to exaggerate. But he didn’t exaggerate this.
Still staring at the beast that was Linn’ar’s cock, I reached for the tape measure with trembling hands. That was the point of asking him to reveal it, despite the heat now sizzling between my thighs.
“May I?” I asked. I hated the hoarse, choked-up quality of my voice. I wanted to sound confident, not like I was spellbound by alien dick. Which, admittedly, I was.
Linn’ar met my gaze. Up until now, I avoided it because I was afraid of my own response.
My suspicions were proven the second our eyes locked. A shudder rolled down to the base of my spine. My skin tingled. The air felt charged, electric.
Linn’ar didn’t respond, but the hungry look in his gaze said it all. Yes, I was allowed to measure his cock, and if I cared to indulge him, I was allowed to do even more.
One thing at a time. I tried to mask the shakiness of my hands as I unfurled the whole length of the measuring tape.
But I immediately came to a stumbling block. Linn’ar’s dick was longer than the tape.
That was fine. Nothing a bit of mental math couldn’t solve.
I cleared the thickness in my throat. “You’re, erm, longer than I thought. I’ll have to mark where the tape ends, then begin again. For an accurate measurement.”
My speech came out jumbled. The hormones were getting to me, frying my brain cells in real time.
“That is fine,” Linn’ar said. His voice was deeper than normal with a rich, rumbling quality, like a predator’s growl. It only sent more tingles across my skin.
I stretched the tape from the base of his cock to about three-quarters of the way to the tip. I placed my finger down on his sensitive skin to mark the furthest edge.
Linn’ar released a raw, throaty gasp.
The sound electrified me as if I’d been struck by lightning. It rocketed down my spine, throbbing in my balls.
I ground my teeth. How much longer could I stand this?
Just a little further, I urged myself.
I took the second measurement. The whole time, I was all too aware of my finger resting on Linn’ar’s erection. I couldn’t not notice—it twitched and pulsed beneath my fingertip, a tactile reminder that I was actively pleasuring my alien subject.
My brain fogged with lust. It took a few seconds longer than usual to add the numbers together, but I managed. It was finally over.
I hastily withdrew the measuring tape, stuffing it in my pocket. “Thank you. We’re done here.”
Linn’ar’s gaze flashed like a hungry jaguar in the jungle depths. “Are we?”
