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“Won’t it hurt?”
His tentacle stroking my pussy narrows to about the width of a hair and then winds around my clit. “I can make it feel extremely good,” he says in a slow drawl I feel in my nipples. “This is a way to stimulate the most pleasurable female ejaculation.”
His offer makes sense now. “Are you hungry?”
“I could always eat.” His tentacle snakes around my waist.
“Let’s do it, then,” I murmur. “But if I so much as flinch, I want you to stop.”
“On a monster’s honor,” he says with a voice filled with heat.
He positions me flat on my back, and opens my legs with his tentacles.
Several thin tendrils brush over my pussy, some of them circling its opening, others stroking my clit. I lose count of how many of them are working on me, but it feels like every nerve in that part of my body has come to life.
My thighs tremble, and sweat breaks out across my brow. Part of it is the anticipation of something new, but most of it is just me wanting more pleasure. I part my lips and pant.
“Is it in, yet?”
He chortles. “I’m just priming the spot with fluid.”
The moment he says those words, I feel a tiny stretch, followed by the most intense sensation. It isn’t pain or a tickle but a new form of ecstasy that steals my breath.
A shiver runs down my back. “Oh.”
“Is it alright?” he asks.
“Keep going,” I reply through panting breaths.
The tentacle burrows a little deeper, moving from side to side like a tiny snake.
“Did you know the clitoris is much larger on the inside of the body than on the outside?” His voice fills the space between my ears. “The pleasure you feel is from stimulating a number of nerves that trigger orgasms.”
My legs tremble as he wriggles the thin tentacle further.
“Oh, fuck,” I say through clenched teeth. “What are you doing to me?”
His cool breath gusts across my heated skin. “You like it?”
“I need more,” I say.
The tentacle inside me doesn’t just expand—it presses down harder, seeming to stroke me from the inside. Sweat breaks out across my skin, and every limb on my body convulses.
“Your reactions are delicious,” he murmurs.
Sensations overwhelm my nerves. Right now, my entire clit—all of it—not just the parts on the outside, swell. I can’t speak, can barely breathe, and my eyes are rolling toward the back of my head.
“That’s it, my mate,” he says, his voice as breathy as mine. “You are so close to climaxing, so close to squirting into my waiting tentacle.”
His dirty words push me to the edge of a dangerous precipice, and my legs are now spasming and trembling. The feel of his tentacle stroking these new parts of my clit is even more intense than the pussy whipping.
“That’s my beautiful mate,” he rumbles.
I fall off the ledge of sanity and into a powerful orgasm that tears through my clit and pussy. Throwing my head back, I open my mouth and scream.
My pussy muscles clench in time with my pulse, making my body thrum. A feeling washes over me like a whole-body sneeze, that lights up my every pleasure center.
“Did I squirt?”
