Handsome Devil by Ava Argent Page A

throat come from? Grown woman, have had sex before with both genders, turned on by two sentences and a rumbling voice.
    Well, we've all got our vices.
    His face is very close to my chest. If he lowered his chin just a little, he'd be looking right at the tight buds my bra isn't doing too much to hide. He doesn't though, gaze trained very purposefully on my throat and shoulders. Every bit he looks at feels ultra sensitive.  
    Oh, he's got me good.
    It's always been hard for me to look into a lover's eyes during an intimate moment. It felt like I was bearing my soul for them scrutinize and judge. I have secrets, deep ones, and the possibility of someone unintentionally discovering them was too frightening to risk.
    I find myself searching for that connection now, almost afraid that he won't look back. But then he does, and it's like something that was empty is now full. It's still terrifying—I'm vulnerable, more open than I've ever been with someone, and he seems like the last person I should be like that with.  
    I bite my lip, my uncertainty broadcasted loud and clear.
    I wish I had better words to describe M'anu's eyes. The exact shade of deep blue, the scattering of otherworldly yellow glimmers in the orbs—every descriptor I come up with just seems inadequate. Then again, maybe someone else wouldn't see them the same way I do. Maybe they would look at him and see a big, deadly alien with sharp teeth and not much in the brains department.
    When I look into them, I see a stillness that's watchful and waiting. It's quiet but vast, just like space. Beneath that is lust, purpose, and more than a little of his own vulnerability.
    He blinks in that characteristically deliberate way of his, and his mouth quirks. Before I know it, my mouth is stretching to match him smile for smile.
    M'anu knows my secrets. He knows my hair is really green and straight. He won't freak if I go too long between colors and the roots start to show. He'd probably dig it, actually. He's already skimming up my spine and tugging at the bun I created, trying to find the hair elastic. I love the feel on his fingers cupping my nape. They're strong, sure fingers, the kind I could lay into and not worry about.  They tangle with my hair and it feels sublime.
    I let my eyes slid closed and I tilt my head back with a sigh.
    He kisses the base of my throat, which I unconsciously bared to him. He nuzzles the skin with his nose, breathing deep. I tighten my grip on his hair, letting him know that I like what he's doing, though I think the shiver gave it away. I turn my chin and rest it against the side of his face. He smells like soap and man. I like the softness of his bangs in contrast to the short stubble of hair that rasps against my fingers at his temples.
    I'm cuddling a Ferissian. Never thought I'd see the day.
    I'm hot and fuzzy at the same time, if that makes any sense, my desire to see M'anu naked at war with my need to explore him just as he is. It's a total teenager feeling, that anxious anticipation of the main event but wanting to do everything else at once too.
    I press my mouth against his temple in an open mouth kiss. He moves under my touch, his hold on me tightening. His chest is pressed against my stomach, his ribs begging to be cradled by my pelvis. I'm dying to wrap my legs around him, but I make myself wait while I trail kisses down the curve of his face. I tilt his chin up and I nibble my way over, coming up to his lips and taking them. Yep, taking them. I want to leave my mark after I show that I'm just as much a part of this as he is. Whatever this is.
    He takes it like the champ he is.
    A laugh unexpectedly bubbles in my throat. I kiss him again and again. He smiles reflexively, probably not all too sure what amused me but willing to go along for the ride anyway.
    He runs his tongue out and licks my bottom lip, and the kiss changes. There's a straight shot of lust to my pussy. I arch into him. His other hand goes to my ass and squeezes