“But I’m still sleeping; I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I sleep… sex?”
Cya burst into laughter. “Sleep sex?”
“Like sleep walking,” he reasoned as he nuzzled the neckline of the shirt they wore. “But sex. Sleep sexxing.”
“I didn’t realize you suffered from sexsomnia.”
“Psh, you and your fancy words. Mine are better.”
“How is sleep-sexxing—”
“You’re ruining the mood.” Dex pouted againsttheir collarbone.
“Until you brush your teeth, there is no mood,” they declared resolutely, and he pressed his mouth to their skin and blew, making a fart noise. “Ah, well, that certainly changes my mind.”
He smiled, teeth hard on their collarbone. “I’m just that sexy.”
Backing up enough to look at them with sleepy eyes, he smiled, and they smiled back. They smoothed his wild eyebrows and the pillow lines in his cheek fur. He turned his face and nuzzled their hand, kissing their palm.
“Morning,” he whispered.
“Good morning.”
“You took a shower, didn’t you?” he asked in an accusatory tone. “I like that you used my soap, but I’d like it better if you smelled like my—me,” he corrected quickly. “If you just smelled like me.”
Their cheeks flamed at his verbal slip and what it meant. His cum. He wanted Cya to smell like his cum, and for some reason, that… did things to them.
Dex must have smelled their reaction, because he stiffened, eyes darkening, and the morning erection trapped against their hip twitched. Slowly, his lips spread in a vain smirk, and he stroked a fingertip down the center of their chest between their now-fully peaked nipples.
“You like that, highness?” he asked, studying their face as his finger followed the small chain connecting their nipple piercings to their belly ring. “Smelling like me. Knowing everyone else would smell me on you too. They’d wonder about all the dirty things you did to get that way.”
They were burning again, their skin prickling, their breath catching. Dex circled their left nipple, not close enough to satisfy but enough to tease, to make themwant. With an embarrassing whimper, they bit down on their bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut.
“Do you like that, Cya?” he asked again, breath hoton their jaw.
And they did. Gods help them, they did like that. It was perverse, but maybe that was part of why it turned them on so much. They’d spent their life striving to be perfect, to be good and proper because it was demanded of them.
Cylene was supposed to be a girl who did as she was told and followed the path marked out for her. She was to be polite and poised and genteel. She was supposed to fall in line and, above all, begood.
But Cya didn’t want to be good. Good led to molds that never fit and shapes they could never copy. It left them feeling cold and empty and lonely. Good was so fucking boring; they were so godsdamned tired of being good.
So they nodded and said, “Yes. I like that.”
Dex gasped against their throat, like he hadn’t actually expected them to agree, and he lifted his mismatched gaze to meet their eyes. He captured their chin and traced their bottom lip with his thumb, pressing against the soft flesh. They flicked their forked tongue over the digit, and a rumble vibrated from his chest and into theirs.
When he prodded at their lip again, they opened, taking his thumb into their mouth entirely. They moaned at the salty taste of his skin, sucking hungrily until he hit the back of their tongue. They gagged instinctually, which only made them want him deeper, and they made a noise of distress when he tried to pull back.
Cautiously, Dex slid his thumb back toward their throat, and they went limp, nostrils flaring with every desperate breath. He made them choke again, and they fisted their hands in his fur with a broken sound of pleasure. With a dangerous smirk, he pumped his thumb in and out of their mouth a few times, like he was demonstrating how he’d fuck their mouth with his cock, and they shuddered.
“I want you to come,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Can I go down on you?”
Cya shook their head, and he frowned. Not in displeasure or disapproval, but in confusion. He removed his thumb, bringing a mortifying whine from them, but he quickly replaced it with his mouth. He kissed them, hard and a little sloppy, tasting sour from sleep.
“You need to brush your teeth,” they mumbled against his lips, and he huffed in exasperation.
“Really? That’s what you’re concerned about right now?” he griped, and when they nodded, he snorted and kissed them again, closed-mouthed this time. “Fine. I’ll brush my teeth in a second. But first, why don’t you want me to go down on you? It’s okay if that’s a boundary, I’m just curious. Do you not enjoy it?”
“I don’t know if I enjoy it. I’ve never really done any of this before. Unless you count a few handjobs, and reading a lot of smut books,” they added in an attempt at levity.
