Looking down, they gathered some saliva and delicately spat it onto his dick, using it to slick the glide of their contracting tail. At that, his eyes practically bugged out of his head at that, and he released a broken whine.
“Unholy shit, how are you a virgin?”
They smiled guilelessly at him. “I’m inexperienced, darling, not innocent.”
“Smut novels,” he breathed in awe. “I’m never taking erotica writers for granted again.”
At their chuckle, he leaned in and pressed his forehead to theirs, rolling his hips. Their rattle was just long enough to press against the swell of his balls under his fuzzy sheath, and they shook it, bringing another moan from the man. Since they’d heard some Mammylions enjoyed having their tails played with, they used a hand to rub along the base of his, and he bared his teeth with a grunt.
Pumping his tail to the same rhythm theirs was jerking his dick, they watched the pleasure twist his features into something akin to pain. He wasmoaning deeply, hips stuttering, fingers twisting even tighter in their hair, and they smiled at the rush of power.
They loved being at Dex’s mercy, letting him play their body like the instruments in their drawing room, but they liked this too. It was exhilarating to see the pleasure they elicited from him, to hear the growly, puffy groans as he neared his climax. All because of them.
Cya’s touch, Cya’s pleasure, Cya’sbodyhad brought him to this point, and it made them feel like a fucking god. They were going to make him cum all over them, and they were going to be utterly filthy when he was done. And they wanted it.
“Come on me, darling,” they said, forked tongue flicking over his parted, panting mouth. “Make a mess of me.”
“Yeah,” he grunted against their lips, “I’ll come all over you. ’Cause you’re mine now. You’re fucking mine.”
And Cya smiled and said, “Yours.”
Dex came with a shout, a thick stream of white fluid shooting from his cock to paint their tail and stomach. He came as he had last night, a continuous rush that really did cover them. They tightened their tail’s grip on his knot, and his head fell back with a deep groan.
Like he was rewarding them, another gush splattered higher on their chest, dripping over their left breast. They slowed their hand on his tail, then released him entirely to rub soothing circles over his lower back. His orgasm lasted longer than theirs had—perks of knotting, they supposed—and they continued to rhythmically squeeze his knot to prolong his pleasure.
Eventually, Dex’s cock ran dry, and he slumped, his eyes blinking open. He grinned dopily down at them, his expression darkening with somethingprimal as he surveyed their jizz-covered body. He snickered, almost giddily, then held up his hand.
“Best sex ever high-five?”
Because they didn’t have the heart to deny him, they pressed their palm to his as they confirmed, “Best sex ever high-five.”
Dex nodded in approval. “Boom!”
And Cya laughed. “Boom.”
Chapter twenty-six
Blowjob-Adjacent
Dex
DexstayedatCya’sthe rest of the weekend. They slept in their ridiculously comfy bed, and he woke with them coiled around him quite completely, their tail constricting and releasing around him as they snored softly against the back of his neck. They ate breakfast—eggs and toast, since that was the only thing Cya could confidently cook without burning down the kitchen—and then he got an official tour of the mansion.
Cya avoided the right wing of the house, saying it was more their parents’ domain, but they showed him the den, full of books and a pool table and a small table with a green, felt surface they claimed was used for cards. He’d never known that special tables were necessary to play Go Fish, but he chalked it up as a rich-people necessity.
The drawing room had many windows to let in natural light. An easel stood near the largest one, and something Cya called a fainting couch sat in the center. All around it were musical instruments.
Apparently, they weren’t just talented in jewelry making; they could also paint and draw and play three instruments. As he sat—notfainted—on the fainting couch, Dex listened while their fingers danced over the baby grand piano, creating a swirling masterpiece of grandiose sound. Then at the cello, they swayed with a rocking, dulcet melancholy that tasted like grief and loss and bittersweet love.
His favorite was the harp, though. The way Cya closed their eyes and lost themself to the magical strings, invoking a sweet, innocent awe of beauty and feeling that Dex didn’t even have names for. It was like witchcraft, casting a spell over the room until their fingers plucked the last dissonant notes, and he could finally catch his breath.
Lost for words, he could only cradle their face in his hands and kiss them with the same amount of gentle sweetness they’d played for him. They melted instantly, and he rumbled in satisfaction, loving the way they turned to putty in his hands.
They spent a few hours in their studio as Cya worked on a piece that combined three different types of gold in a complicated braid. Perched on the stool at their side, chin in his hand, he watched them, enraptured by the focused crease between their eyes and the steadiness of their elegant fingers. They’d capture their bottom lip between their teeth and release subconscious little noises in the back of their throat to convey frustration or elation when they got it right.
During the heat of the afternoon, they swam. Well, Dex swam while Cya lounged beside the pool in another flimsy sarong and bikini top that he may or may not have convinced them to remove. For the integrity of their tan lines, of course.
At first, they scowled at him reproachfully, calling him a degenerate, but only a few minutes later, he surfaced from the laps he’d been swimming to find them bare chested, big sunglasses perched on their nose. They’d evenremoved the sarong, though all their scales were in place to cover the most secret parts of them.
