Taliz is a super fun holiday book. This alien romance is part of a 7-book shared world with Honey Phillips, Ava Ross, Ella Maven, Ella Blake, Tana Stone, Rena Marks, and myself. The series is called Stranded With an Alien, A Sci-Fi Holiday Tail. All the heroes have tails–fun, huh? Here are four sexy snippets to give you a taste of the book.
Through a series of events, Zaydie and her pet Syzz are snowed in with Taliz, a fearsome Khal-rah with many facets to his personality.
“Can’t sleep?” Taliz asks, his nostrils flaring again, apparently unable to quit sniffing my womanly fragrance.
“Snow thunder.” I shrug. “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
“You should try to go back to sleep.” His gaze has dipped to my lips where my thumb is still grazing back and forth.
Am I giving him a subconscious invitation? Hmm. I hadn’t realized, but is that such a bad thing? In my mind, I perform a swift assessment of my situation.
In bed with a handsome alien who was nice enough to take my darlinglove for a walk in the freezing snow. My body is signaling its desire in every manner possible. By the way he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since they popped open a moment ago, I think he’s willing. Best of all, in a few hours he’ll hover me to Frosttown and I’ll never have to see him again.
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep right now,” I say.
Ask why, Taliz.
“I can’t think of anything but kissing you.”
Brazen. Now that it’s out, I realize it’s a terrible idea. That doesn’t mean my attention isn’t glued to his face to see how he took my proposition.
He’d be a great poker player. He gives nothing away, just keeps breathing in and out through those knowing nostrils.
“Dangerous.” Is all he says. He needn’t say more.
“Right.” I agree, although I’m certain my body has not stopped pumping out hormones, filling the room with the scent of my interest.
“Syzz stays between us the whole time.” His edict means we’re going to do this.
“Just to be on the safe side, no touching?” It’s half-statement, half-question.
Hmm, sounds like there’s room for negotiation on this.
“No touching below the shoulders,” I counter. I’ve had my eye on those shoulders. They’re like slabs of green muscle stacked on green muscle.
“That would work.”
He tucks Syzz against his abdomen, then motions me closer. He doesn’t have to ask twice. I scoot until my face is only inches from his. He’s going to have to close this last distance on his own.
I’ve known him less than a day, but I should have realized he wouldn’t just pounce, not like the give-em-an-inch-and-they’ll-take-a-mile men back home. No, my Khal-rah is going to savor this.
He reaches beneath the curtain of my hair and slides his palm along my nape.
“What do you call this color?” He slides my strands beneath his fingertips as if he’s assessing the galaxy’s finest silk.
“The color of dannon wood. I use it to carve flying arlets and scurrying emnens. It’s a brittle wood, hard to work with until it’s been softened in a warm hand.”
Holy crap. Is he talking about wood? His voice, so deep and affectionate, made me think he was talking about me. Softened in a warm hand. Maybe I don’t want that kiss after all. Perhaps he could just talk. I think that deep, bass voice could rumble through me and make me come without touching me at all.
“Tell me more,” I squeak through a parched throat. “About wood.”
“Pernong is one of my favorites.” His thumb is tracing tiny circles on the back of my neck. Somehow, that soft touch is sending shock waves through my body. “It’s rare. Sought after. Not easy to find. Sometimes I have to wait seasons to find a piece just to my liking.”
He’s alternating between sifting his fingers through my hair and rubbing his thumb on my nape. By now, even I can smell my arousal.
“Once I find a piece, I don’t carve it right away. I delay, carrying it from room to room with me, waiting for it to speak, to reveal itself to me. Pernong can’t be rushed. If you do, what’s waiting inside never exposes its true self. Over the years, I’ve found the waiting can be the best part.”
“Waiting,” is all I can parrot back to him, even as I decide I don’t want to wait another second.
Cupping my neck with his fingers, his thumb traces my jaw, then the shell of my ear. I shiver and try to hold his gaze, but my lids shutter closed.
His knuckles drag softly down my cheek. So slow. Yes, this is the hand of a male who knows the value of waiting.
“You’re a beautiful female, Zaydie.”
The pads of his fingers slide across my lips. Barely sexual yet ultimately intimate, they brush back and forth. My eyes are still closed, but I see him in my mind’s eye, his burning, lambent emerald gaze focused on me.
“Why did you ask for this kiss?”
The question, so out of place, causes my eyes to pop open. Why would he interrupt this perfect seduction with that question? When I see his face—earnest, seeking—it’s clear he wants an answer.
“Can’t you smell it? I thought… I read that…” I swallow as he runs his fingers through my hair. I miss the warmth of his skin. “I’m attracted to you.”
The corners of his lips tip into an approximation of a smile as he leans closer, closes his eyes, and sniffs me in, moving his nose from my hairline to the lee where my neck meets my shoulder.
His hand returns to my nape as he firmly cups my skin with his palm, tugs me to him and finally, finally brushes his lips to mine.
I don’t know what happened to the male who just extolled the virtues of letting the pernong wood age. There’s nothing slow or measured here. His lips press against mine as if he can’t get enough.
After nipping my lower lip, he sucks it into his mouth, tasting me, devouring me. My fingers curl around his shoulders, and yes, they’re as hard as I imagined. Soft green skin stretched over perfectly carved granite.
Our tongues are dancing, our breath mingling, our tastes merging. What started as the sweetest kiss of my lifetime is now the most passionate. It’s hard to know who is sighing, who is grunting, who is tasting or being tasted.
I thought those dangerous fangs would be hard to navigate around. Even though I imagined I wouldn’t be able to escape this endeavor without a nick or two, I plunged in headlong anyway. But the sharp tips are stationary and quite easy to avoid.
Trying to shimmy closer, I want to rub my nipples against his muscled chest. I want to sling my leg over his hip and ride him. Perhaps it wasn’t just a want. Maybe I did what I imagined because Syzz makes an indignant squeak, rises and stretches his paws, resigning as our official chaperone.
Taliz pulls away, looking drunkenly disoriented for a second. He still can’t pull his gaze from my mouth. I can’t tell whether he’s thinking it’s the best thing he ever tasted or his mortal enemy.
When he finally drags his attention to my eyes, he grants me the biggest smile I’ve seen on that handsome face, unless you count the fake one he gave for the camera on his website.
“That was perfect and not enough,” he says as he edges backward until his ass and tail hang off the mattress. He scrapes his palm across his forehead. “I don’t know if my mind will ever be capable of thinking of anything other than all the other ways I want to touch you, Zaydie.” He taps his temple. “The images of what I want to do to you, with you, are swirling fast in here. I don’t think you’d like them.”
Before I can ask what those pictures are, or tell him I’ll like them just fine, he clucks to Syzz, who leaps off the bed and follows him out the room and down the hall.
My fingers are back where they started, roaming back and forth across my lips. Liquid heat is pooled low and swirling in my belly. I’m so aroused I contemplate taking care of myself, but that would be a waste. I don’t want my fingers. I want Taliz.
“I had a few more questions. For the interview?” I say. I’m not proud this is going to be a sneak attack. That doesn’t mean I’m going to abort my plan.
“Sure.” He’s got his fingers in Syzz’s mouth, playing tug-of-war with the animal’s canines. The two have a lot in common.
I start with a few softball questions. It’s a popular reporter trick. I think attorneys use it too. What was school like? Is he entirely self-taught or did he learn woodworking through an apprenticeship?
Although I’m listening and interested, I’m just building up to the good part.
His head is tipped, his muscles relaxed except for the one hand no longer tugging on Syzz’s jaw, but petting the spot between his ears where he loves to be scratched, right around his unicorn horn.
“What’s dangerous about kissing?” I ask with the same tone of voice I’ve used to ask the last few questions.
He’s too smart not to immediately know I’ve laid a trap. His head snaps toward me, his green eyes blazing with… distrust? Anger?
He thinks for a moment, then asks, “Did you look up the Khal-rah before the power went out?”
He’s smart. Just like a lawyer, he knows to never ask a question he doesn’t know the answer to.
“What were your three major takeaways?”
“I didn’t have time to do a deep dive. I came away with one salient fact. It’s a predator/warrior race.”
The Taliz I’ve known since I arrived at his doorstep disappears. His face changes right in front of me. His eyes narrow, his chin dips, his lips tighten to form a thin line. There’s one word to describe him—intimidating.
“What are predators known for, Zaydie?” Even his voice is deeper. It borders on a growl.
“Predatoring?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood, snap him out of it.
He stands, puts Syzz on the chair seat, then thrusts his shoulders back, puffing out his chest, lifting his head so he’s physically more imposing.
He takes one giant step toward me, his gaze never leaving mine.
His stride eats up the rest of the distance between us as he leans, putting his face inches from mine. His hands rest on my chair on either side of my head, effectively caging me in. Taliz’s warm breath wafts across my skin.
He lifts me from under my armpits, then presses my body against him as he stands to his full height. My hands grab his shoulders and my legs circle his waist without my conscious permission. My ass is now resting on his forearm, his other arm surrounds my upper back. There isn’t enough room between us for a shard of light to slice through.
Although his harsh gaze commands my attention, I can’t ignore my heart pounding against my ribs, or the warmth of his skin against mine, or the menace in his expression.
Consuming? I don’t know whether he’s going to kiss me or eat me. I can’t even struggle, though. I’m mesmerized.
His face leans toward mine slowly. If I was capable of rational thought, I’d wiggle out of his hold or protest or at least arch my back to avoid him. Instead, I’m truly his prey as his hand slides up, cupping the back of my head to pin me in place as his lips descend on mine.
This isn’t like last night’s sweet, questing kiss. Tonight, I’m kissing a different male. A predator.
His lips are hard on mine. Claiming. There’s nothing sexy or romantic or soft. It’s an order, not a request.
His tongue barges into my mouth, seeking out the hidden spaces in a way that leaves no doubt how it would feel if his cock plundered me down below.
A soft, meek voice in the back of my mind cautions me. Says I should push my hands against the wall of his chest, forcefully turn my head away, and kick his shins with my sock-covered feet.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my tongue into his mouth with a moan that floats up from the recesses of my chest.
For a moment, the predator disappears as he pulls my ass closer so I can grind against the prodigious ridge pulsing against me. Between his cock rocking against the cradle of my thighs and the hard beads of my nipples grazing across his flannel-clad chest, my arousal is rising. Visions of his big bed flash into my mind. Surely he’s getting ready to carry me there.
He pulls away long enough to breathe, “Zaydie,” then kisses me in the sexiest combination of gentle and savage. It’s so seductive it takes my breath away.
Without warning, his body goes still as a statue. Then his head jerks back and the soft, hazy lust painting his face disappears.
Every muscle in his face tightens, and he snaps at me, his jaws making a clacking sound like a slavering dog. Then he pulls his lips back and growls long, and low, and threatening. The humanoid part of him? That’s gone. He’s pure menace.
Was it only a moment ago I was hoping he’d waltz me into the bedroom and make love to me? I take it back. What’s that saying? Be careful what you wish for. No, no, no.
He’s striding there now, and terror washes through me as I wonder what this animal, this Khal-rah is going to do to me.
Taliz and Zaydie are trying their hardest not to touch each other. They’ve even drawn up a set of rules. Here’s where they begin to renegotiate:
“Yes or no, Khal-rah. Do you want to touch me?”
I nod. Not that I want to admit it. I’d rather terminate this conversation right here. I may be many things I’m not proud of, but I’m not a liar.
“So what’s your objection?”
I have to draw the line at this. I can only imagine the look on her face if I remind her I’m a predator, tell her that only yesterday I almost veered into the woods to pounce on a little furry warble to bite its carotid. She won’t feel safe in my house, and there’s nowhere else on the planet for her to sleep. I just shake my head.
“Your friends sure wanted to pair you up with someone. I imagine they would have called a preacher to tie the knot at lunch in that diner if we’d both agreed. Is it you don’t want to commit to anyone? I can understand that. You’ve got a great life here with your perfect cabin and your workshop and your fine standing in town.”
Impossibly, she takes a step closer.
“I’m not asking for anything. No commitment. I’m hovering to the spaceport shortly after the tree lighting ceremony in two days. You’ll never see or hear from me again. Here’s the proposition.” She raises her hand and almost places it on my chest, then snatches it back. It’s good to know she’s a female of her word. She’s still following the rules.
“We agree to strike rule number two. You want me. I want you. No holds barred.”
The words “no holds barred” torch an explosion of mental images. I see things I’ve never allowed myself to imagine, even in the middle of the night when I’m stroking myself. My cock, already hard, is attempting to punch out of my pants.
“I’ll keep my appointments in town. When we’re there, I’m still your houseguest. No touching. No behavior to give your friends any reason to harp on you. They’re pushy enough, wouldn’t want to add any fuel to the fire. When we’re here in this cabin, we do anything two consenting adults want to do.”
Anything, my brain taunts me. Anything two consenting adults want to do.
My mouth is dry, my throat is practically convulsing as I swallow non-existent spit. Zaydie’s naked. If her nipples got any harder, they’d be drilling through my abdomen right now. The scent of her arousal is invisibly curling through the air and tempting my nostrils, enticing my cock.
I still don’t say yes.
“Anything is a dangerous word, Zaydie,” my voice is low, menacing. Now it’s my turn to propel her backwards as I ease toward the bedroom. We still have yet to touch. “What if you don’t like what I do?”
I’m acting in control, as if this is just a formality, but I worry. I don’t want to unleash my Khal-rah instincts and terrify her.
She shrugs, as if my question is merely a procedure during a formal negotiation. “On Earth, we have safe words. I’ll say ‘red’ if I want you to stop.”
She has no idea of the bestial instincts in my heart. Nor do I. Not really. As I wonder if I could follow the rule if she says “red,” she turns on her heel and heads to the bedroom. Evidently, she thinks the negotiations are over.
The poor little human has no idea what turning her back does to a predator. She thinks she’s taking the lead. The Khal-rah in me sees prey. I can’t hold back.
In one long stride, I catch her around the waist and yank her against me, her back to my front. Holding her breasts in my palms, I bend, placing my lips at her ear. I expected to smell fear, but the only thing she gives off is a gust of arousal.
“You said anything two consenting adults want.” I pluck her nipples. “What do you want, Zaydie?” I nip her ear as I pluck harder, letting her know this isn’t going to be like the first kiss we shared. Nothing we do tonight will be soft or tender.
At first, her gasp tells me she’s not going to like this side of me, but by the way she thrusts her ass against me, arching her breasts into my hands, perhaps I’m wrong.
“Fuck me,” she whispers.
Now she’s whispering? Getting shy? The female who just accosted me naked in the hallway?
“Not good enough,” I say as I use my hoof to gently kick her feet farther apart. “I want to know exactly…” I cup my hand between her legs, letting her feel me there, taking ownership with this one movement, yet barely touching hard enough for her to feel it. It’s a tease. “Exactly what you want.”
“More of that.” She dips her knees to feel more of my touch, but I’m one step ahead of her. I bend my knees to avoid giving her more than a whisper of physical connection.
“I’ll give you nothing, Zaydie, without request. If you’re vague, it will be a long, frustrating night for both of us.”
“Kiss me,” she says, turning in my arms and sliding her hands up my chest and around my neck.
I peck the top of her head. Apparently, my demand for specifics wasn’t clear enough.
“Lean your head down and kiss my lips with yours, Taliz. Look at me as if I’m the prettiest female you’ve ever seen. Let me feel your cock kick between my breasts, telling me how much you want me while our tongues fight each other.”
“Mmm. I knew a female who writes words for a living was capable of asking for exactly, precisely what she wants,” I say as I lean down and follow her directions.
My cock needs no encouragement to press between her breasts. Although she didn’t ask for it, I can’t stop my hips from thrusting against her, mimicking the rhythm of sex. Before I lean closer to kiss her, I let our gazes meet. She didn’t have to give instructions for me to look at her as if she’s the prettiest female in the galaxy. I’ve been doing that since the moment we met.
Our lips meet in a cataclysm of need. We’re hungry for each other. The last few days of quiet separation, the way we pretended all evening that we had no interest in each other. All of that falls away as we allow our bodies to speak.
Her breath eases out of her in a huff as her fingers curl around my shoulders. My tongue delves into her, determined to learn what pleases her. By the time we’re done here tonight, I want to own every part of her.
“Take off your clothes, Taliz.”
I pause, letting her know that wasn’t good enough.
“Unbutton your shirt, slowly, all the while looking at me with the unspoken threat of ravishment.”
Ravishment. My cock likes that word so much it produces a pulse of pre-cum.
“That’s right, Taliz,” she says as my fingers work my buttons.
“Let it fall to the floor.” Our gazes are still entangled.
“Undo the closure at your waist, then shake your hips until your pants slide to the floor, then step out. All while looking at me.”
Maybe humans have more predatory DNA than I was aware of. Her muscles are coiled as if she’s about to pounce.
I slide my hips, slow and exaggerated, never veering my gaze from hers. I cheat. Instead of moving side to side as ordered, I thrust forward and back, mimicking sex. She didn’t ask for it, but I throw soft grunts in for free, accompanying every forward motion.
I can’t hide a victorious smile when her little pink tongue flicks between her lips to wet them as her gaze rakes up and down my body, taking in my little show.
“No underwear,” she whispers, then swallows. “A bold statement.”
She’s no longer holding my gaze. She can’t tear it from my cock, which has been hard since she arrived at my doorstep with her little toes poking out of those abominable blue shoes.
My cock is hard as polished stone, pointed to the ceiling, hugging tight to my belly, now weeping my seed in rivulets down my shaft.
Her gaze flicks to mine long enough to praise, “Pretty cock.”
“Pretty, female?” I protest.
“You’re right. I’m a writer. There are better words. I’ll just pretend I’m writing a story about it.”
She appraises me, cocking her head and bending closer. “The alien’s enormous cock is emerald green. Rather than matching his surrounding leafy skin, it’s the same color as thick summer lawns.
“It’s hard to imagine what evolutionary imperative bred this impressive member other than to enhance a female’s pleasure with its copious thick bulges running the length of its underside.”
As long as she’s writing her imaginary article in her head, I oblige by grabbing my heft in my palm and pulling it away from my body to show her the rest.
After releasing a long, shaky breath, she continues, “The topside continues the theme of intriguing and magnificent bulges which serve as runnels for the stream of chartreuse pre-cum leaking from the tip.”
She stares at me, waiting to see if I approve.
“Magnificent. That’s better. And enormous. Good.”
“Lift me up,” she tells me. “Split my legs open and crush me to you and let me paint your belly with my cream.”
I moan softly as I comply. It’s an intricate dance of control we’re playing. Am I in charge because I ordered her to tell me what to do? Or is she truly directing us with her words? My ego chooses to believe I set all this in motion.
Have you missed any of the three other snippets from Taliz? You can find them here.
She leans forward, trying to press her nipple into my mouth, but my lips remain closed. Having her ask for what she wants is too arousing. It’s not yet time to stop our little game of words.
“Lick it, suck it, bite it, Khal-rah.”
Does she not know she’s playing with fire? Calling out to my Khal-rah nature is a dangerous move.
Her legs are wrapped around my waist. I slide my hand to the round globes of her ass. Pressing her core hard against me, feeling her cream dripping down my skin as I smash our bodies together, I dip my mouth to one tender pink bud.
As I lick with my tongue, then tug with my lips, then scrape with my blunt front teeth, the desperate need to have her touch my horns pounds through my head. Although I told her she was in charge, I pull away long enough to say, “Hold onto my horns.”
At first, she grips near the top, but that’s not where the pleasure is. I nip the tip of her nipple harder, pulling an aroused gasp from her. “Lower,” I growl.
When her little human hands grip near my head, a shiver shudders through my body. I’m exquisitely sensitive there. More than I remembered, because I toss my head so vigorously she pulls away, startled.
“Again,” I demand.
“You like this, Taliz?”
She trails a long finger from the tip of one horn down. At the midpoint, it causes a shiver. When she nears my scalp, I groan as my cock kicks against her belly.
My mouth abandons her breast as I stand, sucking in gusts of breath, my chest heaving as I wait for that hand, that finger to… oh. Just the fingertip is lazily circling at the juncture where horn meets head. It’s so intense I toss my head again. This time, though, she’s onto my ways and resumes immediately, riding my jerks and shudders, never letting up.
“How about harder?” she asks, almost talking to herself.
She forms a circle out of forefinger and thumb, and pulses up and down as if she were jacking my cock. Perhaps because I pleasure my cock all the time and seldom touch my horns, her touching them feels even more intense. My back arches, but she rides it out, gripping both horns at the root in her tiny fists.
“Fuck!” I shout.
“You’re a male of many secrets,” she scolds. “All this pleasure, hidden in plain sight.”
Both hands are working in tandem, squeezing harder in increments. Delight. Bliss. She leans forward and opens her hand just wide enough to allow her tongue access. Flicking wildly, moaning her own pleasure, she knows she’s driving me insane. All my senses flare with ecstasy and I shoot hard.
My cum pulses in thick, ropey jets. Some spurts on her chest, most of it catches on the bottom of her chin, some splattering on her face. My muscles spasm in pleasure. I can’t control the loud bark, almost a howl of enjoyment as I come and come and come.
Her eyes are sparkling at me, a self-satisfied smile on her face as she looks down at the mess I made.
“Such a naughty, naughty male,” she says as she shakes her head. Her gaze lances into me, making sure I’m watching as her tongue reaches to lick my seed where it splattered around her lips.
“Taliz tastes good. Spicy. Salty.”
Leaning forward, she uses her tongue to clean some of my essence off my face. Then she releases one horn to use her fingers to gather more, slurping it into her mouth, making a production of it, releasing little moans of pleasure. Her enjoyment of my taste feels like an honor.
The most shocking thing she does, though, is scoop a large splash of it off the rise of her breast and offer it to me as if it were a delicacy.
I lick it off her finger, then pull her closer, plunge my tongue inside her mouth, and share the taste with her.
If a moment ago I’d doubted she could handle me, handle my Khal-rah ways, I’m a believer now. This female is a match for me.
“I no longer want to hear what you want,” I say, allowing her to feel for the first time the full blast of my predatory energy. “I’m completely in charge. Unless you say red.”
Her eyes flash open, perhaps in surprise, then she grants me the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen.
Peeling her off me, I toss her on the bed with a bounce.
“Hands and knees facing away from me,” I say.
After she slowly gets into position, I slap her ass cheek.
“Faster. Next time I give an order, follow it faster.”
She whimpers not in argument, but, by her scent, it was a noise of arousal.
She hurries to comply.
“Arch your back.” When she does, I tell her, “I can see your folds. All your holes waiting for me, for this Khal-rah cock. Put your shoulders on the mattress.”
This is dangerous. The entire endeavor is. But now, my prey lying completely submissive on the bed, displaying herself for my pleasure, has put me fully into my predator mind.
With her cheek pressed flat, she turns to look at me over her shoulder. A thrill flies through me. She’s waiting, wanting, ready, but has already given over all her power to me. Her hole is pulsing, waiting to be filled, but even fully in my Khal-rah mind, hard and eager to take her, I’m not ready for that. There’s so much pleasure I need to give her first.
I yank her closer, until her knees are on the edge of the bed, then I kneel. Forcing myself to slow down and enjoy this, I take a visual tour of her private pink folds, then slide my palms up her thighs as I inhale.
“You smell good, Zaydie,” I say as I nip her ass cheek.
“Do I smell as good as you taste?” she asks, somehow managing a smile even though her head is smashed against the mattress.
“Let’s see if you taste as good as I taste,” I mumble right before I stick my tongue into her core in one thrust. I’m barely aware of her shocked intake of breath or her moan of pleasure because I’m too consumed by her flavor. It’s clean and subtle, yet heady because it’s so unique, so personal.
“Perfect,” I tell her, my hands running up and down the outside of her thighs, grounding me and keeping her focused on my touch.
She arches more fully for me, displaying herself even more openly, offering herself completely.
“Zaydie,” I breathe, then have no intention of speaking again for a long time as I learn her private spaces.