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She hadn’t gone in since the ghoul fiasco. She’d asked for a few more days off until the investigation was over, and her boss had begrudgingly approved the request.
“I promise, whatever happens, I’ll protect you.”
“Thank you.”
As she slowly worked her way down my back, going around the wings, she leaned back against my tail. I wondered if she even realized what was supporting her. Since that night in the kitchen, I’d been careful always to wear partial glamour around her, hiding my scorpion tail while showing the rest of my form.
“Hmm…I’m not sure how to groom the rest of you.” She brushed her fingertips over the leathery membranes of my wings. “Ooh, they’re soft! But you’ve got some dry spots.” She touched an area that was particularly itchy.
I was suddenly glad Desmon had gifted me that fancy, all-natural flight oil last Christmas. I’d thought moisturizers were too vain, especially one that glittered with flakes of real gold, until the skin on my wings had started to crack in the winter dryness. “I do have moisturizer, but I can’t reach parts of my wings,” I admitted.
“I’d love to do that for you. Where’s the stuff you use?”
I took her upstairs and showed her the fancy bottle.
She held it up and read the label. “Gilded Wings. Flight oil for the most discerning of dragons. Proprietary blend. Since 1790. Sounds expensive. Did they make it look like an expensive bottle of collector whisky on purpose?”
“It was a gift from Desmon. It’s supposedly the best you can get. I heard the family who owns the recipe is filthy rich, given how much they charge for it and the fact that one bottle barely covers a single dragon’s wing. Have you seen how big Desmon is when he’s in dragon form?”
“Can’t say I have.”
She pulled me into the bedroom and sat me on the edge of the bed. Then she climbed up next to me. She poured a little bit of the oil out into her palm and made a sound of surprise. “It’s sparkly! Smells nice, too. Like musk, wood, and a hint of something floral? It’s not too overpowering. Honestly, I’m a little surprised something like this came out of such a masculine-looking bottle.”
She squinted at the bottle before stoppering it again and putting it onto the bedside table. She rubbed the oil between her palms, sniffing. “Ambergris, sandalwood and jasmine. Those scents have always been expensive. And the gold flakes. They sure made it as fancy as possible for their dragon clientele.” She positioned herself behind me and started rubbing the oil on my wings. “I’m going to have the softest hands in the world after this.”
When she got to the spot where my wings joined my back, a place I couldn’t reach on my own, I moaned. She responded by rubbing a little harder. I tried to convince myself that not every touch had to end in sex, but then I imagined her hands stroking over my cock instead.
Mmm. That would feel good, especially with the oil. As she reached for the bottle again, I moved. She let out a small squeak as her hand missed the bottle, and she fell over onto the bed with me.
“Your turn.” I pinned her down and started licking her face.
“What the—” She giggled at my own attempt at grooming her.
But the giggling stopped when my cock, which was straining the front of my pants, pressed against her thigh.
Chapter 21
Eva
It was impossible to miss the massive erection that was tenting Mateo’s pants. It was even more impossible to look away when he undid his fly and shoved his pants and briefs down his hips before tossing them onto the chair across the room.
He took my hands and placed them on the monstrous beast that jutted out from his short, velvety fur.
“Touch me,” he ordered, his voice husky with need.
I didn’t have to be told twice.
I reached for his thick cock and rubbed up and down with slow, languid strokes, exploring the smooth surface and spreading whatever was left of the oil over it. There were no signs of the spines that would rise later when he came, but when I ran my fingers along the dip between the head and his girthy shaft, I felt the bumps.
They weren’t spines like a cat’s, which were sharp and pokey. Rather, I saw now that the head of his cock had sections that pushed out wide, forming flaring protrusions when he came. Right now, they lay flat, making his head that pronounced mushroom shape. I ran my fingertips along the ridge; it was harder in some spots than others.
I imagined the head of his cock splaying apart like a bulbous grappling hook inside me, holding us together. It wouldn’t be impossible to remove, but it would be uncomfortable. Yep. Guaranteed cuddling.
“They won’t flare out unless I come inside you,” Mateo said softly.
“So, can I taste it?” I asked, moving my hands over him again.
He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled growl. I’d take that as a yes. His jaw tightened, and his golden eyes burned with need. The way the pointed tips of his elongated canines pressed against his lower lip was super sexy. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils widening like he was tasting me in the air.
