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More kissing.
They ended up cooking together, cutting vegetables and running into each other in his tiny kitchen. She nearly tripped over his tail three times, and swore at him to get it out of the way, and he said that she’d felt differently about his tail last night, and she’d gotten the memory of that—of his insanely wondrous undulating tail that had penetrated and rocked and squeezed her to an amazing climax—she had come every single time they’d had sex thus far.
Well.
Except the first time.
Butalmostthat time, too, actually.
It was some kind of record.
She only came sporadically with Tommy and pretty much never with anyone else. Niles had come and then kept at her after he was done. Without beingasked.
She didn’t care what anyone said. He was good to her and he cared about her, and she could tell.
“Oh, can I ask you a question?” she said.
“Sure.” He was stirring ground beef in a skillet. They were having tacos.
“Why did Lucy say that thing about your venom?”
“Oh,” he said, looking up at her, embarrassed. “Uh, I don’t usually… I don’t tell women about it.”
“No?”
“Well, not at first,” he said. “I guess it’s kind of fucked up, but it’s like a test. I’m always afraid that women like me because of it, not because of me, I guess?”
She nodded slowly. “It is amazing. But you didn’t use it last night, and you blew my mind.”
“Did I?” He grinned at her.
“Your tail is…” She let out a whistling breath.
“That was incredible of you, letting me do that to you.” He was close now, voice dropping in pitch. “You were very, very pretty jammed full of me, and you’re too good to me, really. I’m not used to having double attention on both of my cocks. It’s, um, you’re…”
She pressed into him. “What am I?”
“Perfect.”
“I’m not.”
“I think you are, though.”
She giggled. “I mean, you’re… you’re… wow.”
He kissed her thoroughly. “Don’t distract me. You’re going to make me burn the taco meat.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, still close, gazing up at him, feeling happy and pleased and very, very smitten.
“Yeah, you better be sorry,” he whispered.
“I am, believe me,” she said, her voice barely audible.
He moved the taco meat off the burner with a clatter. He turned off the burner and lifted her—using his snake tail—onto the counter.
She gasped.
“I told you not to distract me,” he murmured, undoing the button of her jeans with both of his hands. His tail was inside her shirt, under her bra—she was wearing one today—making her nipples stiff.
