Something draws me to my knees, and I reach out to cup his face. His eyelids flutter, and I feel him tremble against me. I’m not supposed to touch, but I can’t help myself. Can’t stop.
Instead, I lean forward and let my lips meet his, a graze, a promise.
He holds himself still, letting me taste, touch, lick. He does not reciprocate, and when I pull away, his eyelids are closed, his chest heaving.
His hands find mine, claws digging into my skin slightly as he shoves his fingers between my own to hold my hands. He lifts himself up, his massive body pinning me to the mattress as we fall backward.
He begins to rock, to move, and his tongue laves over the side of my neck before he sucks against my pulse point. I groanloudly, feeling the rumble in my chest, and I feel one coming back from him.
He turns my head, claws pricking into the sides of my jaw as he slides his tongue into my mouth, over and over, a mimic of a fuck. I writhe against him and realize the feeling of lust I was getting before, the one that wasn’t my own, is rising again.
And so is mine.
My cock is still hard, kicking against his lower stomach as he uses the friction of his body against mine. I feel him exhale, warm and heavy against my cheek, and then he pushes up on one elbow and stares down at me.
My hands are pressed against his sides, and I tense, but he shakes his head, then lifts one hand. ‘Beautiful.’
I don’t know if anyone has ever called me that and meant it. Not the way he means it. I see it in his eyes, in his face. He’s staring down at me like he wants me. Like I’m something.
My heart twists in my chest, and I rock my hips up against him. ‘More? You want?’
His eyes shutter, and his tongue wets his lips. His fangs poke out just a little, and he stares at the side of my neck. Dipping his head low, he runs his lips over my tendon, then scrapes his fangs over it.
For a moment, I think he might bite me there.
And for a moment, I want that.
Then his massive body slides down mine, and once more, his mouth engulfs my cock. I cry out, hips arching up, and his tail pushes between my legs, the thin tip sliding up to my hole, pulsing a touch there that nearly sends me over the edge.
I’m seeing stars as his tongue wraps around my cock once more, and then I’m coming on a sharp cry that scrapes against the back of my throat.
This time, my hands fly into his hair, holding him there as I pulse into his mouth. I feel every lick, every suck as he takes me.My fingers twist around his impossibly soft strands, and when I’m finished, he collapses against my thighs.
I feel his rough breaths puffing along my oversensitive skin. He laps his tongue over my spent cock, taking every drop I have left to give.
I lie there boneless, unable to move, one hand still in his hair, the other resting over my rapidly beating heart.
Exhaustion is tugging at me, and I can’t imagine he wants me to stay. Not after telling me that I wasn’t allowed to touch. Not after letting me break his one rule.
I tap him, and I feel him turn his head. I can barely see him from where I’m lying with my head flat against the mattress, but with one weak hand I sign, ‘You want me go?’
There’s a beat of silence and stillness, then, against my thigh, he shakes his head. I feel another pulse against my temple. This time, instead of lust, it’s confusion, affection, and fear. But it’s gone before I can examine what it truly is.
My fatigue is taking over. Darkness is creeping along the edges of my vision, and the thousand questions I have for Eissa are fading.
We will talk in the morning, I think. I will find out what all of this means after I get a little rest. Today was a long day, and two orgasms thrust me over the edge.
If only I knew, in that moment, what my sleep was going to rob me of.
He’s gone.
I can feel it before I’m properly awake. I’m in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and there’s a presence here that isn’tEissa. I sit up with a gasp, naked, half-covered by a sheet, and a woman with wide eyes is staring at me.
Her lips are moving far too quickly for me to catch any words, and I groan, holding up a hand for her to stop. I feel like I have a hangover. My balls were sucked dry, and my body wrung out.
‘Deaf,’ I sign, mouthing along with exaggerated mouth movements.
She gets the look most hearing people get when I do that. A little fear, a little embarrassment.
