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He'd enjoyed her teasing, and once his cock had fully distended, Grace had another idea. She would never say no when he wanted to have intercourse, not her as often as he pleasured her in those days and weeks in between, but she had a busy few days ahead of her, and didn't fancy the idea of being bow legged and sore for most of them.
Grace considered, as she settled on a cushion at his feet, once she’d tugged him to sit in his specially-designed chair, that she had been an anxious mess three scant years ago, yet here she was, a brazen seductress on her knees. Merrick’s garnet eyes were scrunched shut as she stroked the curving length of his cock, and he never saw her pick up the wand.
The magic wand had never been a favorite toy. She'd bought it because of the cult hype surrounding it, but it was too heavy, too powerful, and numbed her more than it got her off. It had been in a bag of toys she’d brought with her to his tree loft, giving him something to use on her on the nights where intercourse was not on the menu. It would, however, be perfect to use on him. The large, conical head whirred to life, and she raised it to that big bottom swell, the reason she was usually so sore the morning after what she had begun to mentally refer to as Fuck Nights, where he was so sensitive. Merrick yelped, his hips lifting as though he’d been electrocuted, but she followed his movements, keeping the buzzing vibrator against his curving length.
For the next fifteen minutes, she learned where to hold the wand. Moving down his cock-tip proved to be too much, and the high-pitched noise he made, so different from his normal deep purr, might have been comical if she weren’t on a mission. Following the S-shaped line of him made him groan, and pressed to his flared base made him pant. The bottom swell still elicited the longest moans, but pressing the vibrator’s head to his slit made him arch off the chair, and she wondered how deeply it was stimulating him.
When she clicked the vibrator off, a strangledkreeeeripped from his throat, and she almost fell over laughing. She ignored the peevish look he gave her when she climbed into the chair, straddling his hips. His eyes fluttered shot when she guided the dripping tip of him into her, slowly sinking down on his length until she reached that heavy bottom swell.
"I don't think I can get over this on my own," she panted, feeling the familiar burn.
His face scrunched, sucking in a deep breath as she wobbled in place astride him.
"I-I don't want to hurt you, I don't want you to be uncomfortable. This is fine, this is enough."
Grace scowled at the return of his stammer, tapping him on the nose. "If I wanted your bad opinions, I would have asked for them. Just thrust up a little, help me get over this." He obliged her tentatively, and on the third upward thrust of his hips, she was able to sink over the swell, the air in her lungs leaving her in a gasp. "Tell me about the guy from the garden, the one at the Manor house. What did you argue about?"
Expecting him to keep his composure enough to have a conversation while she cock warmed him was simply asking too much, as he quickly displayed. She continued to ask questions, prodding him to remain engaged in the conversation as she rocked her hips against him slowly, barely moving, tightening her inner muscles to squeeze him.
"That guy was a real asshole," he gritted out through clenched teeth. “I told him I’d seen a friendlier set-up at the elementary school, I guess he didn’t appreciate that.”
She'd been wheezing in laughter against his chest, certain that there had probably been two assholes involved in that particular conversation, when he'd pushed himself out of the chair, obliging her to wrap her legs around his waist with a squeak. He was as ravenous as ever, but the vibrator had done a good job at speeding things along. By the time he'd been ready to erupt, she was pleased to note she didn't feel as though her organs had been displaced in his frenzy.
"Do you want to come on my tits?"
She was certain he had a human kink, a breast kink in particular when he moaned his agreement. She resumed her place on her knees before him, squeezing her breasts together as he came like a geyser, a spray of his pearly release coating her skin in seconds. It was thinner than what she was used to, especially compared to the thick, creamy consistency of a minotaur's, and there wassomuch of it, but when it was finally over, and she knelt in a puddle, it was clear he'd enjoyed himself.Let him take that memory with him wherever he goes next,she thought, as he fretted over cleaning her up.
Seeing him now, under the bright afternoon sun was incongruous, but certainly welcome.
"I-I wasn't sure if you would be available to take lunch, if you're not, I totally – I-I should've called you first, I'm sorry, maybe later tonight we can, before I have to go in, maybe—"
"I would love to take lunch, actually. This is what time I usually go anyway."
A burst of small voices interrupted her next words, the Woodland Scouts who had visited the farm that day returning from the outer fields in a noisy cluster of uniformed little bodies.
"What do we say to Ms. Grace for getting us all set up today, gang?"
At the sound of the man's voice, she snapped to attention, pasting on her brightest, sunniest smile. Caleia had made herself invisible, retreating to the office trailer in a blur of movement, leaving Grace singularly responsible for saying goodbye to the town's next mayor, relieved that she'd taken Tris's advice, placingHemming for Mayorsign at the entrance to the long drive, and if Cal had disliked it, he had the good sense not to say anything.
She'd previously met the handsome werewolf’s genial brother, the fireman, on several different occasions, and had once stood in line at the Black Sheep behind another brother, his hands clasped with a petite, dark-haired young woman, getting their last caffeine fix before an apparent hiking trip, as Grace listened in intently to them reviewing their supply list.
She wasn't sure what she had been expecting when he had called to make the appointment for the Woodlands Scouts, but Jackson Hemming was younger looking than she'd anticipated, far younger than a mayor ought to look, she thought, with an odd intensity that made her squirm. He’d been a professor at the school, but had left his job at the end of the spring term, in preparation for the new job everyone in town expected him to have by the following year. He was just as handsome as his fireman brother, his eyes sparkling and his smile white and even, but there was something in his eyes, something slightly frenetic and all-seeing, and as the group of children thanked her in unison, Grace watched his overly-intense gaze slide to Merrick, traveling up the reedy moth's unclothed body slowly, the body she loved, his dark eyebrows drawing together in a brief expression of disapproval. His gaze had snapped back to hers a heartbeat later, and it happened so fast she may have been persuaded to think she'd imagined it, but she knew better.
"We were so thrilled to have you all! Any time you want to come back, just say the word!"
She'd sagged into her seat once they were gone, Caleia's head popping out of the trailer door. "Is it safe?"
Grace scowled at the cowardly dryad, shaking her head in disgust.
"For that, you get to come over here and pop a squat. We’re going to lunch, and it's probably going to be a late one." She turned to Merrick, giving him a tremulous smile, noting that his antennae had lowered a bit. "C'mon. We're going to get lunch and then we are going to introduce you to the fabulous new world ofpants."
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