Virgin by Cheryl Brooks

was warm and wet and felt like nothing else ever could.
    He was losing it; his cock was shrinking in size, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. He fought to bring back the memory of her scent, but it was no use. There was only one way to get it back, but even though she was in the next room, she might as well have been a million star systems away for all the good it did him. He understood now why men chased after women and broke down doors and, yes, withstood being hit over the head with skillets in order to get to the source of that need—and hold on to it forever.
    Desire, lust, passion. A deep, aching want for something he couldn’t have—at least, not yet. How could he possibly focus on being charming with this feeling inside him? If he was going to do it with words, he’d have to do it from across the room where he couldn’t smell her or see her incredible eyes. Threldigan could help him with that, for, despite Waroun’s warnings, he’d been a good friend in many ways. If Dax had ever truly wanted a woman, he was sure Threld would have helped.
    Unfortunately, it would be a while before they reached Rhylos. What should he do in the meantime? Avoid her? Or see if his bumbling efforts would be adequate? If his previous attempts were any indication, they probably wouldn’t be. He needed information, and he needed it now.
    He changed into dry clothes and sat down at the desk, accessing the computer from there.
    “I need mating behavior guidelines,” he said aloud. “But for—humans, I guess.” Muttering to himself, he scanned dozens of different topics from “How to find a mate” to “One hundred clues to sexual interest.” The most promising was titled: “She wants you. You want her. What now?”
    The list of dos and don’ts was endless. Make her laugh. Open doors for her. Smile. Brush your teeth. Take a shower. Don’t buy her expensive gifts because she’ll misinterpret your intentions. Don’t be dominant—unless she wants you to be. Don’t be rough—unless she’s okay with it. Lean toward her, but don’t invade her space. Take charge, but don’t overdo it.
    By the time Dax finally gave up and went to bed, his erection was a distant memory, and he’d concluded that his best bet was to tell Kots to keep Ava on a strict diet consisting of nothing but Sholerian cream and delete her wardrobe entirely. Then, and only then, would he stand a chance.
    ***
     
    She might have only taken a taste of it, but what the Sholerian cream had done to Ava’s libido was shocking. For one brief moment there in the passageway, she had been about to rip Dax’s pants off, and if Waroun hadn’t been there, she was afraid she would have.
    For now, she knew the best course of action was to remain in her room until she felt normal again, but it certainly wasn’t what she wanted to do. No, stripping Dax to his skin would have been her first choice, followed by engaging him in every sexual act she could think of. She wanted to suck his dick so badly she could almost taste it, and given that he was Zetithian, it was sure to be extra thick and juicy and delicious; she nearly had an orgasm just from thinking about it. Self-pleasuring was an option, though it wasn’t sexual release she was craving, but sexual adventure—with one particular person. There was an ache deep inside her that she was sure only Dax could remedy. She’d never heard of an aphrodisiac that was quite so specific; even if Russ had been standing right there in front of her, she wouldn’t have given him more than a passing thought.
    It was frightening but simultaneously intriguing. She wanted the urges to pass, but at the same time, she was considering asking Kots for more of the stuff just so she’d maintain the single-minded courage to go through with it— any of it. Then she recalled, too late, that Kots was probably already on his way to her quarters with another dish of the stuff.
    “No, Kots,” she said aloud. “I didn’t really mean