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22
I was lost the moment he grabbed his cock.
Seeing him sitting there, his strong legs open to me, every sleek surface and defined groove of his muscled body lit with the dyre-stone glow—it was too much for a mere mortal to cope with.
His spine curves as he examines his cock, and his stomach muscles tense as he follows my directions and slicks precum along his shaft. There’s a studious look on his face at first, but the velvety rose of his lips and the color in his cheeks is the most debauched thing I’ve ever seen. I have to press my hand over my pussy to keep it from quivering.
When he looks up at me, his face changes, an instant transformation from obedient exploration to grinning dominance. In that deep dragon voice of his, he croons, “How does it feel for you, Princess?”
His big hand keeps caressing the full length of his cock, while his gaze ensnares mine. He’s learning much too quickly.
I snatch my hand out from between my legs.
“This is about you, not me,” I retort, but my voice trembles a little. “Explore yourself. See which spots are most sensitive, what rhythms give you the most pleasure.” I glance away.
“Look at me, Serylla.”
My breath hitches as I turn back to him, drawn by that powerful voice. His eyes are like dark stars, and his black hair glimmers in silky strands over his broad chest and shoulders. His ebony claws catch the light as he strokes his thick length steadily.
“Am I doing this right, do you think?” he rumbles.
“Yes… um… do you… do you feel the pleasure building, like before, when I touched you?”
“You mean when I came in your mouth?”
My eyes nearly glaze over, and I clench my thighs more tightly together. “Yes.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
“Hot,” I whisper.
“And?”
“Wet.”
“Show me.” He growls it, fiercely. It’s not a request, but a command, and god help me, I love it.
Propping my back against the edge of the nest, I pull up the skirt of the shift dress. I didn’t put on any underwear when I changed, because deep down, I knew exactly where this was headed. I want him to fuck me. The only question that remains is when, and whether or not I’ll use the contraceptive herbs afterward. Whether or not I’ll let him fill me up with his seed, as he calls it. Whether or not I’ll be birthing his eggs. Thelise seemed to think it was not only possible, but safe. Then again, I’m not sure Thelise’s word is very reliable.
For now, Kyreagan seems dazed enough by the sight of my damp pussy that he doesn’t ask for anything else. He strokes faster, his gaze traveling up my body to my eyes and back down again. He’s relishing all of me, including the expression on my face. He’s finding his pleasure by witnessing my arousal, my emotions.
Tentatively, I press two fingertips to my clit. My body responds with a dramatic flutter, and I can’t help squirming. I circle my clit feverishly, occasionally sliding two fingers down to dip inside myself.
Kyreagan’s eyes blaze hot, searing me, flooding me with a more visceral need than I’ve ever experienced. I need this orgasm like I need air.
Another giant column of lightning snakes down the cliff, past the cave. It startles both of us—I scream faintly and Kyreagan lets out a deep groan. Fear sharpens our pleasure, and those involuntary cries loosen our inhibitions. I let myself gasp aloud, shrill and breathless, and Kyreagan lets out the prettiest dark moans, lovely male sounds that send my pulse skittering into pure delight.
“You… come first,” he rasps. “I want to see it.”
My hand flies faster, and I focus on the surging pleasure, winding it up in my mind, working myself to the breaking point. I tilt back my head with a whimper… almost there… I take one more long look at Kyreagan’s flushed face, his swollen cock, his heavy balls, strong thighs framing it all…
“Fuck!” I scream as it hits. Fingertips pressed to my clit, I force myself to keep my legs open, to let him see the spasming flutter of my pussy. My fingers and my inner thighs glimmer slick in the warm light.
“Serylla… Serylla…” Kyreagan groans heavily, and white cum flies from his cock, sprinkling my leg and the compacted grass of the nest.
“Keep going,” I gasp. “Give yourself some more pressure, until it’s enough.”
He groans again, stroking firmly a few more times. Then he falls onto his shoulder, rolls over onto his back and stays there, breathing hard.
