I turn around, expecting to find him face-down on the sofa, but he’s not. He’s standing there, shirtless, arms spread, as if to saythis is me.
I can’t help smiling. He looks even better than I thought he would. His thick belly and thighs are in perfect proportion with his broad, muscled chest and arms. He looks like he can protect meandfeed me. He lookshuggable.
“Hot. That’s my professional diagnosis,” I say, very obviously checking him out.
He huffs a self-conscious laugh. “You think so?”
“I think I’d like to spend all night sleeping on you like a mattress.”
His cheeks flush, and it’s adorable. “That can definitely be arranged.”
I circle around him, cleaning his scratches and dabbing them with ointment, sticking bandages on the worst of them, which are mostly on his tail. When he’s all patched up, I tuck the first aid supplies into the pocket of my robe. “All done.”
Myrran reaches for me, grabbing the belt of my robe to pull me into him so he can press his nose to the top of my head and take a deep breath. “How’s my girl doing?” he asks. “Still into this?”
“If by this, you mean spending the night together? Um, yes.” I untie my robe, letting it fall open. He slips a hand inside, running his fingers along the curve of my waist and upward to up my breast. He cups it, squeezing, then ducks down to lick my nipple, softly at first, and then rougher, with harsh pulls and scrapes of his teeth.
My knees are instantly jelly, and I have to wrap my arms around his neck to stay upright. “Carry me to the bedroom,” I order, voice a little quivery. “That way we can shut the door so Mr. Whiskers doesn’t interrupt again.”
He immediately scoops me up, heading first in the wrong direction, toward my roommate’s door.
“Other one!” I call. He reverses course, barreling into my room and launching us both into the soft, pillowy comfort of my bed.
“Gods, I’ve dreamed of this,” he breathes, cupping my face for the briefest moment before devouring my mouth in a mostly-human-style kiss that steals my breath. Then just as quickly, he’s working his way down my body, heading straight for mybegging, tingling clit that’s been edged so many times tonight, I think it might go off as soon as he puts his mouth on it.
“Wait,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. His scales are surprisingly soft and smooth, barely catching even when I run my fingers against the grain. “Why don’t you take off your pants and flip the other way so I can play with you while you play with me?”
“I want to spoil you,” he argues.
Is he really arguing with me aboutthis? “Spoil me with your dick in my face.”
He barks a loud laugh. “Fine.”
He shucks his denim and boxer briefs in one go, dropping them off the edge of the bed, and then turns around so our parts line up as we lie on our sides. His cock bobs in front of me, swollen and dripping. Promising ridges line its length, and my core clenches as I imagine it sliding inside me.
I grasp the shaft, my fingers barely meeting around the surprisingly pliable ridges. “Oh my god, you’re huge.”
“You should see the other one.”
“Other one?!” I squeak, scanning him for a second dick. None being apparent, I ask, “What other one?”
Myrran pushes my legs apart and slicks his tongue through my folds. My clit jolts to attention, sending tendrils of pleasure snaking through me.
I whimper involuntarily, writhing toward his touch, but he pulls back slightly to answer my question. “My feral form has two. He’s huge—really huge, too big for this apartment. It’s actually against the law to go full feral within city limits. But I can…um…sort of half-shift if you’re interested in two more manageable ones.”
“Oh.” I don’t even know how to process that. What would I do with two dicks as delicious as the one in my hands? Good things.Dirty things. I’m just not sure what. Overwhelmed, I struggle to formulate a reply.
“Maybe next time?” he suggests, sounding amused. “We can stick with one for now.”
“That soundsgreat. Both the next time and the this time.”
His tongue slicks over me again, stroking against the side of my clit. It’s so intense already, but I don’t want him to stop, either. I want him to feel as good as I do. He needs to catch up with me! So I guide the head of his cock between my lips, licking up the drops of moisture there.
He tastes a little bitter and sweet, like good chocolate, with a hint of smoke and salt. It’s the perfect distraction, dividing my attention just enough that I can hold off my impending orgasm. I swirl my tongue around the head and then take him as far down my throat as I can—not far, considering my jaw only opens so wide—and make up the difference with my stacked fists.
His cock pulses against my palms as I stroke and suck him, my channel clenching sympathetically around his tongue as he thrusts it inside me.
“Fuck,” we both say at the same time, through our respective mouthfuls. His thighs are shaking with the effort of holding back, and I think mine are, too. Neither one of us is going to last long at this rate. Tension coils inside me, begging for release.
