Pucked By The Puca (Monstrous Meet Cutes)

14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

PEM

It’s nearly impossible to pull myself back from the plush perfection of Iseol’s mouth, but I manage somehow.

“You first,” I command, and she scowls so hard that I laugh.

“Why me first?”

“Because you said you have the most layers. It makes sense to start with you.”

Her glare doesn’t ease up, but Iseol points to the pearly white of her wide skirt and short top.

“These are the outermost layers of my chima jeogori—what women call the clothing of their hanbok. Chima means ‘skirt’, and jeogori means ‘top’.”

“Uh-huh, and how do I take them off of you?”

Iseol’s cheeks heat with a fiery violet blush. “You untie the jeogori here.” She tugs my hands to the knot of ribbon on the front. “And the chima I just…shimmy off.”

My mouth goes dry at the thought. With deft fingers, I pull off her top and then grip the sides of her skirt before slowly removing it down her legs.

Underneath, I reveal a white tank top-like dress that seems to be made of cotton as opposed to the silk of Iseol’s outer layers.

I spread out her chima like a blanket for her to roll over on—even though it’ll do little to cushion the ice.

“Your turn.”

Smirking, I unlace my pants, yanking them without ceremony off my legs and past my hooves. My brown fur curls in every direction, and I watch Iseol stare at the apex of my thighs, trying to discern its secrets.

“Ok, this is my fur layer.”

She swats at my chest, scoffing. “You are a cheat! This doesn’t count as a layer!”

“Does, too! It’s part of me!”

“Ugh. Fine. This layer is called a ‘sokchima’.”

“It reminds me of a chemise, an archaic type of undergarment. Many in the Fae court still wear the same clothing from centuries ago.”

“Interesting. Hanboks are more than centuries old, but most Koreans have modernized the style. I prefer the more traditional look, myself. Your turn.”

“No, not before I strip you of this layer.”

Iseol whimpers, the sweet sound unraveling my control a little more as I reach out and slide the strips of fabric off her shoulders.

Past her breasts.

Down her legs.

Until she’s in nothing but a white bandeau and some matching undies.

We both shudder when I reach out to swipe a finger over her center. Even from a distance, I can feel the heat emanating off of my mate.

I pull back, taking a deep breath, but Iseol’s scent fills my nose. It’s clean and crisp—like the first snowfall.

“This is my bokyt.” I point to where my legs meet, chuckling when my mate wrinkles her nose.

“What? I don’t see anything but your fur.”

“My bokyt,” I repeat. “I believe humans call it a ‘cock pocket’. Here, give me your hand. It’s under my fur.”

Iseol instantly complies, and my therys pushes against the entrance of my bokyt, demanding to be let out.

Now.

Choking on a groan, I draw my mate forward until the tips of her fingers brush against the vertical seam.

Her mouth forms an adorable ‘O’ of astonishment before she takes over the exploration of my bokyt.

At first, her touch is soft—hesitant, even—but when she realizes that she’s not hurting me, Iseol becomes bolder.

Gods save me, my mate drives me barmy with her sweet caresses.

I shudder, and the Gumiho tips her head to the side, one of her ears quirking as she takes in my reaction.

“It’s very sensitive?”

“Yes, more so on the inside—there, it’s like touching my horns.”

She nods, as if cataloging the information, and I’m not sure if I’m excited or worried with what she’ll do with it.

“My turn,” I mumble past the pleasure of one pale blue finger working just inside my bokyt.

Iseol bites her lip, but eventually reclines back onto her elbows, thrusting her small breasts upward. The cold air swirls around us, and her nipples harden into stiff, little peaks that beg for me to suck on them.

Soon.

“Alright, fynuhmar, what is this final layer called?”

“The chest covering is called ‘gaseum garigae’ and my underwear is called ‘dari sokgot’.”

Her poor dari sokgot is a mess of slick, the pearly fluid shining in the sunlight as it trickles past the thin material and down the insides of her thighs.

Unable to help myself, I spread Iseol’s legs wider to accommodate my head, where I nudge her panties aside with my nose, inhaling deeply.

And then I taste her.

The first slow swipe of my tongue along her folds makes her back bow off the ice like she’s been electrocuted.

Iseol cries out, and gods help me, I want to roar at the flavor exploding inside my mouth—like honey and mint.

This woman will be the death of me, and I already know that I’ll never get enough. Iseol’s my destruction.

Sweet.

Addictive.

Perfectly mine.

I could drown in the taste of my mate until my very soul is spent, my body nothing but an afterthought.

It’s only her pleasure that fuels me.

And I swear it’s true, but when Iseol grips my horns while I take a deeper lick, my therys throbs until an ache grows inside the pit of my stomach.

If she keeps touching me like this, I’ll probably come inside my bokyt again.

She bucks as my tongue delves deeper, her pussy tightening around me as I stroke along her fluttering walls.

I stop when I realize that I acted on instinct and never asked Iseol for permission. It takes all my discipline to pull away from her dripping center.

“Forgive me, fynuhmar, I forgot to ask if I could touch you like this.”

Iseol sits back up and reaches out to caress my cheek. “Pem, you can touch me however you wish. I’m…I’m not very good at this since I don’t have much experience.

I’m not a virgin, but I’ve also only been with one other person, and they’ve never done what you just did. It felt…there are no words. Please, don’t stop.”

Internally, I preen at her praise before diving back between her legs, intent on making my mate see stars.

“Like this?” Her thighs threaten to strangle me and muffle my voice, but I don’t care.

“Yes! Right there. Please, Pem!”

My name spilling from her lips makes me growl, the deep rumble reverberating through Iseol as she thrashes on top of the ice.

She grabs my horns again, and I’m lost—completely gone. I clamp my mouth over her clit and suck until she screams, my own body pulsing with pleasure.

I flatten my tongue, pressing broad strokes against her before sliding a hand to one of her tails. My touch is feather light, and Iseol groans.

“More.”

Instantly, I comply, tugging at her tails and licking her clit harder while I fuck her pussy with two fingers. Her reaction is instantaneous as the insides of her walls flutter, and I know she’s close.

“P-Pem!”

“Let go, cariad. I’ve got you.”

And she does.

Her peak hits Iseol like a tempest, her body convulsing as a flood of slick coats my fingers.

My tongue.

My face.

I lap it all up greedily, refusing to let a drop touch the frozen surface of the lake.

Her screams rend the silence, guttural and raw, and I pull back to stare at the perfection of my mate coming.

She’s breathtaking like this—utterly undone, her body pliant beneath my touch, her chest rising and falling in shallow, desperate breaths.

Mine.

All mine.

I swoop back down to press a kiss to Iseol’s inner thigh, but the sight of her slick, glistening folds is too much to resist.

Before she can catch her breath, my tongue is on her again, teasing and tasting as though her pleasure is the only thing I need to live.

Fuck air.

“Pem—oh gods, I…”

Her words are lost in a wet gurgle of need as I plunge my fingers back inside her, crooking them to hit that perfect spot once more.

She jerks wildly, her cries growing frantic, and the scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, driving me to the brink of madness.

“Mine,” I murmur between licks, my voice rough with determination, and perhaps something darker.

Possessiveness.

But Iseol doesn’t seem to mind if her choked moan is any response. Her thighs tremble around my head as her second orgasm builds with brutal intensity.

Iseol arches, her hands gripping my horns with enough force to make my therys jerk, and I swallow back a snarl as bring my mate to the brink of euphoria again.

“Oh gods—”

Her shout cuts off when Iseol’s voice cracks, and she whips her head back so fast, it makes a resounding crack when it connects with the ice.

Panic engulfs me, cutting through my lust, and I scramble to check on my mate. But when I go to move, Iseol yanks my horns, shoving my face—and tongue—deeper inside of her.

She mindlessly strokes along the curved ridge of my horns, and need slams back into me faster than a tendy can block a shot.

A combination of her scent, the noises she’s making, and the feel of her pussy contracting around my tongue undo me.

My therys bobs—once, twice—and then I’m coating the inside of my bokyt just like that fateful day I first touched Iseol’s tails.

I collapse between her thighs and sigh in contentment, but the sensation doesn’t last long. My rut won’t let me until I’ve knotted inside my mate.

Iseol whimpers, distracting me from my selfish thoughts of pleasure.

“Are you alright, cariad?”

“Better than alright. And now…it’s your turn. Show me your last layer, Pem.”

My mind is still lost in the fog of pheromones, and it takes a moment to realize what the tiny Gumiho wants.

My cock.