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“You need to use your words, sweetheart. Please what?”
“Pleasemake me come!” She gripped his sleeve tightly, her head whipping round, seeming to remember for the first time where they were since he first began rubbing her hip. “But-but don’t get us arrested.”
It was all the permission he needed. Rourke began to rub against her clit in a way he knew would make her unravel, steady circles with medium pressure, and he could tell by the way her fingers hooked around his bicep like talons that she might rip into his skin if he were to stop now. Fortunately, he had no intention of doing so.
“I’ll take care of this pretty little pussy anytime you want, Sweetheart.” She whimpered, her hips canting, hand tightening around his arm. “Anytime she wants to be licked, I’ll be here to lick it and make you come.”Like right now. Let’s clear these plates and make you the main course.“Eating this pussy is going to be my new favorite meal.”
She was not the birdlike little doll he'd originally thought her when he only knew her from looking down on the milking deck, but she was still so much smaller than him, in every way. His hand engulfed her entire cunt, and it was not a challenge to stretch a finger to sink into her heat, his circular motion never faltering. Her head had dropped against the back of the booth, keening against his shoulder, and when he added a second thick digit, he was certain she began to gurgle.
“Anytime she wants to be stuffed with my fat bull cock, I’ll be here to fuck you so good you won’t be able to remember your own name. I’m going to spoil you rotten, Violet. I’m going to spoil this cunt every way I can—all you need to do is tell me what you need.”
He was glad then for the distance between their table and the nearest one, glad for the classical music that piped over the speakers, because the sound of his wrist pumping into her, fingers fucking her the way his cock would soon, the way he circled against her – was a sopping symphony of wetness, the slick sounds of her pleasure barely muffled by the tablecloth. She was sodeliciouslytight. He knew she would be, but the actual feel of her snug walls tight around his fingers was eye opening. When she came, Rourke marveled at the clench of her muscles, the pulsing contractions squeezing around him.
It would take a significant amount of prepping her pussy before he fed it his cock. She was human, which meant she was able to breed with a multitude of different species, but that didn't take away from the slightness of her figure and the limitations of her form, and he wouldn’t do her any harm. Of that, he was resolute.Taking it slow, all over again. She was going to feel amazing around his cock, but it was going to take a while to get there, and he suspected it would not be happening that night.
No, this was about her agency, her pleasure. What he was going to do to her and how good he was going to make her feel, whenever she wanted, was a promise he intended to keep. His hand would do another night, he decided, sucking his fingers clean as sat in a daze beside him.
* * *
“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman.”
His commitment to working up to intercourse was growing weaker when he loomed over her a short while later, her nimble fingers working at his fly.
“Is that the only thing that’s hard?”
He saw stars when she mouthed at his bulge, teeth scraping over the spot sheknewwas the head, bumping her nose against his balls. “Is this what you want, sweetheart? Is this the cock you want?”
He listened to her narrate what she loved about stroking him and the way he pulsed in her hands, all the while tracing his shape with the ease of someone with long practice, finding a particularly sensitive spot as if she knew right where it was.Yeah, because she does. Because she’s spent more time holding your cock than holding your hand, remember?
The prime beef stick in his trousers was doing the thinking when it allowed itself to be pulled out and guided to her lips, the fluttering of her tongue over its tip igniting an inferno that pooled in his belly as her lips struggled to close over the big mushroom head. Once he knew the molten heat of her mouth, Rourke was certain it would be impossible to leave, and heneededto leave. . . . But that didn’t mean he needed to leave her unsatisfied. He could not bear the idea of going home to his hand without the taste of her on his lips, the lingering essence of her coating his tongue.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to give you this cock so good, you’ll never be able to remember anyone else’s—but that’s not going to happen tonight.”
She nearly sobbed when he announced his intention to go home without fucking her, her clenched fists beating at the mattress, and her little tantrum at being told she was being denied his cock was so adorable, he might have changed his mind if he hadn’t been so out of place.
“I thought I was in charge?” she demanded, her tiny fists still balled up. “I thoughtIgot to call the shots?”
She scowled when he laughed, but he couldn’t help himself.Nowshe wants to call the shots, never mind the blue balls you’ve been carrying around in a wheelbarrow for the past month. “You are sweetheart, and I’m never going to leave you unsatisfied. That’s a promise. But I’m not going to do anything that might hurt you, and you’re not ready to take my cock. You need to be prepped,” he glanced swiftly around the room, nose wrinkling, “and I can barely turn around in here. My hooves will tear up your sheets, and I’m not convinced I wouldn’t get stuck in your bathroom.”
If the tightness of her body had not already convinced him, the miniature proportions of her apartment would have finished the job. He had taken one swift look around upon entering, noting that he could cross from the living room to the kitchen to her bedroom in at most two strides. Her table was low, the depth between her counter and cabinets shallow, the doorways a danger to his horns. He felt as if he understood, for the first time, how the original Minotaur must have looked — a hulking monster in Violet’s doll-like bedroom, looking down on her on the bed like a piece of meat.
“When you get home from work tomorrow, I want you to pack a bag and bring it with you on Friday. You’re going to spend the weekend at my house, and we’re going to do this the right way. You need to be prepped first. I promise you, that pretty little pussy is going to be so stuffed, you’re going to feel like a solstice goose. I can’t promise you’ll be walking right on Monday, but we’re going to do things the right way, and you won’t get hurt.”
The noise she made was nearly a sob, and healmostfelt bad about it, but he reminded himself that she could have taken control at any point in the last month.After all this build-up, we’re not ending the night in the ER. “On your knees, sweetheart. I already told you I’m going to spoil your cunt rotten.”
Her skin was like silk as he ran his palms down the length of her once he’d pulled off her dress. Smooth and soft and delicate — easily cut, easily torn. Nothing at all like his thicker hide, nothing at all like tough troll skin, nothing like rugged orc skin. She was as delicate as a butterfly’s wing, and ensuring that she enjoyed their first time together without him inadvertently hurting her was the right decision. His brain knew that, but his cock wanted to challenge the judgment when he raised a hand to rub against the lips of her sex, presented to him like a swollen flower.
Her cunt was dripping. He groaned at the slickness he found as he fingered her, the remainder of her orgasm at the restaurant, and the fresh arousal from the time already spent in her small apartment.Just a few good strokes that’s all she needs. What’s the harm? She gets a little, we get a little, everyone’s a little bit happier.Rourke groaned at the obnoxious suggestion, realizing the horny little bull on his shoulder had been the voice of his cock all along.
“Violet, you’re going to be the death of me.” The first finger he worked into her slid in easily, and she moaned at the intrusion. Her interior was just as silky as the skin on her breasts and stomach, but it was hot and slick, and he rubbed over the texture of her inner walls until he found the spot that made her jerk like a mule. Back and forth, the pad of his finger worked against the bundle of nerves, watching her spine quiver as he did so until he added a second thick digit. Two of his fingers were probably the same width as a human’s cock. It was a snug fit, and she keened, pushing back against him.If she wants to be fucked, then you ought to fuck her.
He pulled a knee to the bed, leaning over her. It was a similar position to the one he might take if he were rutting into her from behind, mounting her like a bull, like the specific porn clip he’d watched more times than he could count. He thumped his wrist against her, his thick fingers fucking into her rhythmically, rubbing directly over that spot that made her jerk and buck. You’re going to need a mirrored headboard before Friday so you can watch her face. Violet was gasping — short, high little pants that were making something short-circuit in his brain, and his hand was drenched.Maybe you’re just not giving her enough credit; maybe sheisready.
He added a third finger and watched almost as if in slow motion as her whole body seized from the intrusion. The hips and she was pressing back against him stuttered to a stop, her spine sagging. It was too much, too thick, and she was definitelynotready for his cock.And it’s time to go home while you’re still able to control the situation. Rourke was not going to leave without finishing her off, and he refused to go home to his empty bed and his hand without taking a taste of her sweet honey.
Her entire apartment seemed to rattle when he dropped to his knees, and he winced, hoping his hooves wouldn’t scuff her floors.You’ll just have to move her out and have the floors resanded, and then she never needs to come back. The first press of his tongue into her satin heat was a jolt of pure serotonin to his brain. This was what he needed to smile more. The taste of her on his tongue would send him out the door every morning with a shit-eating grin even three Khashes wouldn’t be able to erase, a solution to the ‘smiling in his head’ problem.
“Violet, I’ve thought about licking this pussy single day. I’m going to make this sweet kitty purr until she knows every inch of my tongue. If I don’t have the permanent taste of you in my mouth, I’m not doing my job well enough. Do you want to come on my tongue, sweetheart?”
