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“That makes no sense. You are confusing me,” he said miserably.
“I know. But we’ll figure it all out together. I promise.”
I stretched up to reach his mouth. But I didn’t need to go far.
He met me halfway.
His mouth on mine was slow and tentative at first. As if he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening and he was scared I would pull away.
But I wasn’t going to pull away.
I opened my mouth against his.
And then, the kiss turned to chaos.
One of his hands shot to the back of my head, supporting it as the force of his kiss wrenched my neck back. His tongues surged into my mouth, tasting, searching. Claiming. I met them with just as much force, my clit throbbing at the feeling of his three tongues running over mine. Wetness flooded between my legs, my nipples aching. I didn’t know how badly I’d needed this. Needed him.
His chest shuddered under my hand, his breath coming ragged and hard. He dragged his mouth from mine, slicking his tongues along my cheek to my ear, then down to my throat. I moaned, keeping my head tipped back. It wasn’t difficult, and it didn’t hurt. Because his strong hand was still there, supporting me.
“I love you,” he rasped against my dampened skin. “I love you so much I can’t untangle it from obsession. I love your skin, your scent. Your anger and your joy. Your hair. Curse me, I love your hair so much I want to swallow it. Want to choke on it. Want to feel it slide across my cock. Get strangled by it.”
Holy shit.
His words sent desire slamming through my bloodstream. It grew even hotter, thicker, swirling through my core when he hoisted me onto my back on the bed. I half sat up, wanting to drag him back to me, but I didn’t need to. With urgent, panther-like grace, he climbed onto the bed, looming over me on his hands and knees. It was so much like the last time we’d been together in a bed. He’d loomed over me then, just like this.
But it was also nothing like that. Because I knew that things were changing between us. He was changing.
And so was I.
Under the feral heat of his gaze, I drew trembling fingers down to my tank top’s bottom hem and yanked it up and over my head, tossing it aside. I laid back down beneath him, and then, before I could lose my nerve, I pulled down my pants and underwear. They caught on my ankles (I was still wearing my stupid fucking boots) but a flurry of kicking soon had everything sliding off my feet and onto the floor.
I panted, completely bared to him, trying not to be afraid. Afraid of what he’d see when he looked at me. He’d given me something tonight – he’d opened up and let go. I could do the same. So, I forced myself to be still. To not curl up and roll away and hide.
It was hard, though. Because his sight stars lit my skin on fire.
They stormed over me, dragging up and down my form, over and over again. His cock jutted out from his groin, stretching his loincloth to its limits, and it twitched whenever his gaze passed over the place between my legs.
“How long are you going to keep staring?” I asked shakily after what seemed an excessively long time.
“As soon as I regain use of my limbs,” Errok wheezed.
A tremulous smile passed over my lips. He was adorable like this.
“Do you want to touch me?” I asked, feeling just a little bolder. Flushing, I drew my fingertips slowly over my breasts. My nipples puckered, and I arched, moaning.
“Skies help me,” he groaned, watching me touch myself with feverish eyes. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long, that just watching is pushing me beyond the edge of reason.”
His words squeezed my core. I licked my lips, my eyes dragging down to the evidence of his arousal – his throbbing cock.
“Can I take this off?”
He gave a strangled-sounding, “Yes,” then breathed some curse I didn’t quite catch.
I reached one of my hands down, tugging at his loincloth until one of the knots came loose and it fell away. His cock sprang free, hard and huge. It was a deeper indigo colour than the rest of him, with twin blue spears of flesh on either side. His balls were velvety, dark, and heavy. Under my gaze, they visibly surged upwards towards his body. At the same moment, a drop of wetness appeared at his tip, a shining bead that remained round and perfect, like a dew drop, against the slick dark hide.
That bead didn’t stay there long, though. When I drew gentle fingertips along the bottom of his shaft, that bead of semen dribbled down, pushed out by more seed. Every muscle in Errok went taut as a snare drum’s skin. He screwed his eyes shut, and his breath became choked. More seed ejected, this time in a small spurt instead of a dribble, making me gasp.
He’s about to come. Just from one touch...
