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And also, I want to fuck him again.
I start by caressing two of the spots which I know are the most tender. Immediately, the fury in the lines of his body begins to soften as he relaxes into my touch.
This is what I really want. I want to feel like I’m in control for once. I know that he desires me. And while I can’t be as powerful as he can be, I can make him want me. Somehow, touching him like this feels almost like revenge.
And then, without thinking, my mouth drifts closer and closer to his. Suddenly, the two of us are kissing. His lips, if those are his lips and not just an imitation to distract from his real mouth, are just like the rest of him. Cold and smooth and gentle. And yet, I can feel his love in them. I can feel his passion.
“I don’t understand you,” he says. “One second, you’re furious at me. The next, having sex once isn’t enough.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to understand me,” I answer, and the two of us begin kissing again. It’s so strange, but at the same time, so simple and so true.
I’m furious with him, but I also want him. I want him to like me and be happy with me, and maybe I also want him in a deeper way. I don’t understand the feelings that are surging through me at this moment. All I can do is follow them.
“I want you to pick me up,” I whisper to him.
“I’m so glad you said that,” he answers.
And then, he lifts me up. He’s carrying my weight with two tentacles wrapped around my legs and another around my waist. I fall back a little bit, and he follows me, catching my lips with his as I dangle in space.
And then, to my surprise, he starts to walk. Carefully, he carries me through the halls of the temple and out onto the sand. Above us, I can see the sun slowly shining down into the depths of the ocean and all the strange creatures making their way through the waters.
This is perfect, I think, running my hands down his head along two of his arms.This is exactly where I want to be.
I can see the secret arm growing thick and hard already. But I don’t want to turn to that. Not quite yet.
I start to kiss my way along his skin, exploring his body with my mouth. I feel a gentle pulsing in his body, and every once and a while, there’s a flash of color that starts somewhere deep inside him.
He may be carrying me, but I’m the one touching him. I’m the one in control.
“You’re hungry,” he tells me.
I am. I hate him and I want him and I need him. Somehow, the anger only makes the other feelings even more passionate.
Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but does love have to make sense? And isn’t that what this is?
“I want you all over my body,” I tell him.
Immediately, we both drop onto the hot sand and suddenly, every one of his tentacles is touching me somewhere. They kiss and squeeze and caress, all at once and all in unison, and it’s as if my whole body is singing. It feels as if I’m swimming through pleasure, and I hold him tight against me as he explores me.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says.
“I know,” I reply, and I give a soft bite to one of his tender places as I stroke another with my free hand.
I want him, too. I’m realizing that as I touch him. I’m angry with him, but also I want him. I want him to protect me. I want him to be with me. I want him to fuck me.
All of it’s happening so fast. Everything I feel for him is so intense. The anger is intense and so is the desire. I feel more for him than I’ve felt for anyone who I can remember, but I can’t tell exactly what it is I feel.
There’s only one thing to do, and that’s to keep feeling.
“You fascinate me,” he says, and I smile. That’s just what I want. I want to be fascinating.
That’s when I take his cock into my mouth. His taste surprises me. He’s salty but also strangely sweet. There’s something ancient and delicate about him that’s totally different from the sharpness of the ocean.
“Don’t stop….” he says, and there’s as much emotion in his voice as I’ve ever heard.
He moves slightly, but I’m doing most of the work, sucking on him with my lips tight, then suddenly taking him as deep into my throat as I can. Yes, I have him now. If I stopped suddenly, he would groan. Maybe he’d even beg.
But I don’t want to stop. I want to make him feel something as intense as what he’s made me feel. I want to feel as important to him as he is to me.
