Page 21 of A Drop of Venom

He chuckled and slid down my body. “Open your legs, my sweetness,” he said, kissing my curls and flicking his tongue repeatedly as if my most personal scents entranced him. “I have much feasting yet to do.”

I’d heard whispers of such things from friends and women in the village of the ways a man—a male—might kiss his lover in places other than her mouth, but everything about tonight was new and unknown to me.

My need and Terolon’s tenderness drowned out any objections I might have had. I raised my knees and let them fall open, baring myself to his gaze.

“Lovely,” he said, his voice rough. “You are so lovely here. And so wet.”

I started to squirm and close my legs at his words and the intensity of his stare, but his shoulders were suddenly between my thighs, spreading them farther apart.

And then he delved his tongue within the dripping folds of my sex and licked me slowly from bottom to top.

I threw my head back and wailed, the pleasure so intense that I tried to pull away. But his hand tightened on my hip, holding me steady as his coil beneath me moved, tilting my hips up and bringing me to his mouth once again.

“So delicious,” he murmured, his breath warm against my throbbing sex. “So sweet and perfect. I will drink from you like this every morning and every night, my light. I fear I’ll die if I do not.”

His declaration embarrassed me a little, but I could do nothing except gasp and writhe and cry out his name as he licked and suckled me, using two fingers to hold my sex open so he might devour me better. And when his tongue slid up and the forked tip wrapped around the little nub at the top of my folds and caressed it, I screamed.

“Yes, my love, like that,” he said, releasing me just long enough to praise me. “No one can hear us beyond these walls. Scream for me, darling. Your pleasure is my feast.”

In only moments, I was writhing shamelessly against his face, all other thoughts forgotten except how much I loved him, and how good this felt, and how grateful I was for those wards that kept us hidden away from the world.

The pleasure built, and built, and became as towering as a tidal wave I’d once seen depicted in a painting.

And then Terolon slipped a moistened fingertip inside my sex as his tongue rolled my sensitive nub, and the wave broke.

With a cry, I clawed at him, my heels digging into his sides, his coils, whatever I could reach, trying to escape pleasure that seemed like too much to bear. He held me still and stroked me gently through the bliss, through the crashing waves and along the current until I reached the other side.

He was pressing his finger deeper now, curling it inside me and making me shudder with sensations I’d never felt before.

“Shelshan,” I gasped. “Please…”

“You are so small,” he said, kissing my inner thighs. “My slick will help you accommodate me, but I must help you prepare. I will be gentle. Lie back and enjoy this, my love.”

Oh, Goddess…

Every sensation was multiplied now after my release. Of course he was gentle and careful, stretching me with one finger before reaching down out of sight and then raising his hand to show me two fingers, both glistening. Was that his slick?

“I will stop the moment you wish to stop,” he said, kissing my bent knee. “You need only ask.”

“I know.” I managed a smile, though my chest was heaving. “Go on, my shelshan. I’m quite pleased so far.”

He smiled, showing me his fangs, and pressed the tips of two fingers against my opening. They slid inside with surprising ease, but I cried out anyway at the pleasure and unfamiliar sensation of fullness.

He stilled. “Hazel?”

“I’m all right,” I gasped. “Please. More.”

He kissed his way up my thigh again and licked me gently as his fingers moved in and out. I closed my eyes and lost myself in sensation.

He curled his fingertips, stroking over something inside me that made me cry out. And on the next thrust a third finger joined the other two, stretching me further. The burning sensation became pleasure almost instantly, and my hips began to move again as another wave of pleasure began to build.

“Terolon,” I gasped. “Please. Please.”

“Almost ready,” he said, his voice rough. “If I hurt you, even without intending to do so, it would kill me, my love. My hearts could not take it.”

I moaned and ground my hips in rhythm with his fingers.

When a fourth finger joined the others, there was no pain, only pleasure. My wail would have startled every creature in the valley if it weren’t for our wards.