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Followed by a gushing wave of instant relief.
Swooning in his arms, I would have fallen had Cyderial not supported my weight. While he had me docile and breathless, he forced me to watch in that mirror. Showed me his touch was succor, that his palm soothed, all the while kneading softness where there was none.
My head fell back against his shoulder. Exhausted from battle, a drug-like lull growing inside me, I had no ability to prevent him from doing as he willed.
A single lingering kiss was placed on my damp forehead.
To our reflection, he asked, “Do you see?”
The tips of his fingers began to gently spread flesh that had previously been solid. My iridescent scales had split down the middle, flashes of vibrant purple tinged with a little bit of blood opening with his touch. New flesh, soft flesh, laced with a dripping cream that seeped out of some unknown crevice.
Showing me I was now soft and malleable, he dipped a careful fingertip between that freshly torn slit of flesh, running his touch up the length.
Dear God!
My leg involuntarily jumped. Knee bent, I kicked at air, gasping for breath.
Nothing in life could possibly have prepared me for such sensation. This new feeling eclipsed—devoured—all else.
Not rushing my education, the tip of his finger traced every external alteration, the interior of each soft fold, so I might learn where I was most sensitive. When he stroked the slit in its fullness, my hips chased his touch for more.
And there was more—a freshly opened, tight channel he burrowed his middle fingers into until I melted.
Wrapped in sweet scent, the pulsating vibration from his chest coaxing me to relax, I could not remember why I had been afraid. I could hardly remember my name.
Female sounds came from parted lips, my body liquid as it ground against a strong male hand.
The sound emanating from our shared music… a song more beautiful than anything I had ever heard in the fog, promised all was as it should be, should I submit.
A trickle of wetness ran down my thigh, something slippery that eased his entrance, another finger added to thrust in and out. Palm rubbing circles on sensitive nerves in that new, beautiful slit, he began to encourage the strangest building pressure.
Pressure that grew into mounting pleasure unlike anything I’d ever felt.
Eyes rolling back into my head, I gave over to it, jerking my hips, riding the hand working between my legs.
“You’re beautiful.”
That voice was so familiar. But before I might make sense of my sudden spike of concern, energy began to zip from my toes and fingers, gathering to thrash at that pressure in my core. When it was more than I could bear, an explosive starburst of bliss stole my breath.
The world went white.
“Good girl.”
Humming, I offered no resistance when he drew my drowsy self to the floor. I was far too tingly to care about anything further than the beautiful music and much-needed sleep.
But where I was growing quiet, the male’s drumming crescendoed.
Something about that noise enticed more warm fluid to seep from my center.
My dress—what was left of it—I heard him tearing to shreds until I was fully bare. Some part of me was unhappy to know what he’d done, my eyes parting so I might complain. But I lost all words when I found him crouched over me, working his belt apart.
The button of his trousers popped open; the fly descended. His hand reached in and withdrew something…concerning.
Concerning enough to snap me out of whatever daze had taken over my brain.
That looked nothing like the human penis I’d seen in the video.
A video about human sex.
