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I don’t recognize the sound of my howl, only that it rips my throat raw when I finally come down her throat in long spasms that rock my whole body. Stars explode behind my eyes as my knees quake. It’s a struggle to stay upright, so Calvin grips me from behind and kisses my neck while I come for eons, shooting long, thick ropes down my little fox’s throat.
Ivy swallows me down even as her eyes bulge. She holds onto me while her throat constricts over and over, taking everything I give her as if she’s been starving for my cock.
Starving for me.
I don’t know how they manage to get me to the bed, but when my eyes drift shut, my head is on the softest pillow I’ve ever touched.
If this is what dating a witch is like, then I didn’t know what I was missing all these years.
14
Calvin
Ifed before I came up to join them, but I could really go for another squirrel right now. If I’m being honest, I want a taste of my little snack, but I know that’s not a good idea. I won’t risk my home for a taste of her blood.
Though, the temptation is there, thrumming in her throat while she stares at Leo with wide eyes. “Did we really just do that?” she whispers as she watches him sleep atop my sheets.
As if anything could wake him now.
My eyes are wide, too. “I guess we did. I haven’t been with a man in decades, and even then, it was just the one time when I was too drunk to truly appreciate the newness of it all.” I kissed a shifter’s hairy back. I pressed my cock along his firm ass.
I played with his nipples just to toy with him in the beginning. But when he came down her throat, the satisfaction was far more gratifying than I could have anticipated.
We are doing that again.
I can still smell her arousal, which has only grown in potency, even after she masturbated in the shower. I want her in the most ungentlemanly of ways. The desire to take her is powerful, overwhelming any romance I could and should infuse into the moment.
I should let her sleep, or at least offer the option as opposed to letting my need for her take over.
The desire for release is strong, to be sure, but I could very easily do that by myself. It’s Ivy I need. Ivy Moon with her curvy body clad in a nightgown that’s just as sheer as I was hoping it would be.
I haven’t felt this strongly about wanting anyone in years. Whenever I feel the urge for release, it’s not hard to find a willing vampire or a human outside the city to scratch that itch for me. But since I stumbled into Ivy Moon’s life, there is precious little I desire other than her.
I don’t know who I am anymore. All I wanted for decades was to be left alone with my garden, nursing my petunias to their fullest bloom. It’s a simple ambition, but I’ve had more intense ones before, and they blew up in my face.
I’ve opted to keep my soft spots behind a firm wall, lest the objects of my desires die on me and wreck my next several decades.
Yet here I am, swallowing my venom and reaching for this mortal woman. I use gentle hands that were meant for tearing tender flesh.
But I can’t do that with her. When she migrates into my arms and reaches up of her own volition to kiss my lips, the hunter in me melts like a newborn fawn, eager to be led to the slaughter, if only it is she who takes me there.
“Ivy, I haven’t been with anyone I care about in a very long time,” I admit, certain that this is the wrong time for this confession, yet it might be my last available moment before I succumb to her siren’s song.
Ivy presses her lips to mine, then settles back on her bare heels, blinking up at me with adoration in her eyes. “You care about me?”
“Not properly. Not in any way that makes sense. I don’t know the first thing about how to be good to you, but that’s what I want.”
She takes in my sincerity that certainly has never played much of a role in the bedroom for me. I can tell she is sizing me up to see if I am worth the risk.
It is new to me—this caring thing. It never mattered if I was good enough for my partner. It only mattered if they were good enough for me for a single night, and nothing more. I haven’t done a thing to look after the inside of my home for years, but now that Ivy is within the manor’s walls, I can see the signs of neglect in every corner of my home more clearly.
It’s embarrassing to have such a stunning woman set against the backdrop of negligence. She deserves better.
She hasn’t asked me for a thing, other than a bit of sweetness and a place to sleep. Yet I cannot stop myself from bumbling this moment as confessions spill out of me unbidden.
“I am not a good person,” I tell her. “I don’t always stop feeding when I should. Life isn’t nearly as precious to me as it is to those who aren’t like me. I don’t think I’ve cared about anyone until I saw you on all fours in the woods. Now I can’t stop myself from caring too much. I’m afraid my heart is going to explode out of my chest if you show the slightest bit of discomfort.” I shake my head at myself. “It’s a steep shift in a very short time. I’m not sure I understand it all, or that I’m handling it all that gracefully.” I motion around my bedroom. “This place hasn’t seen a visitor in years, yet I’m mentally moving you into my home for more than just a night. You care for that shifter, too, so any objections I might have otherwise had about inviting him in are silenced.”
I should stop talking. I shouldn’t say a thing about what a hermit I am, or how she would be better off with just about anyone else. But I cannot mislead her. I fear I am incapable of duplicity around my little snack.
