39. Clay
39
Clay
As Stella sits up, she pushes me backwards and straddles my waist, I become convinced that I am going to explode.
Like, seriously. I may spontaneously combust right here because all that separates her hot pussy from me is three layers of clothing and my dignity.
Because if I had none, I’d be buried in her so deep she’d have to force me out.
Her little back dress rides up on her thighs, and I drag my fingers across her smooth, creamy skin. Slowly, she pulls it higher and higher until she slips it over her head, and past her wings, leaving her in a bra close to the color of her skin with a little bow between the breasts and a pair of red polka-dotted panties.
There has never been a sexier outfit.
I lean forward as she pulls my shirt off, but I can’t stop my cringe, knowing what she’s seeing.
The black hole where my heart should be.
The threads of the souls I’ve Reaped.
But her eyes don’t darken with fear. Her lip doesn’t curl with disgust.
Instead, she leans down and kisses the center of my chest where my shadows reside.
And then she giggles.
“It’s cold!”
I can’t hold back the grin that plasters itself to my face. “It’s made of shadows.”
“Oh, that’s so cool. I want to see your Reaper one day.” My face must pale because she cups my cheek and presses her forehead to mine. “Not today. But when you’re ready.”
Before I can respond, and tell her that can never happen, her lips are on mine again, and I fall into her touch, her caress. Our tongues gently tangle and every moment feels like the greatest one of my life.
“Take my bra off,” she whispers against my lips.
I fumble between her wings, brushing them with my knuckles several times before I manage to unhook the bra and slide it off her torso. I don’t get a good look at her breasts before they’re pressed against my chest, but I feel her nipples hardening against me. The slide of them against me has my toes curling.
How can something so simple feel so good?
“Touch my wings.” Her voice is quiet but firm, leaving me no choice but to obey. I stroke my hands up the curves of her wings without pulling my lips from hers, and she shudders on top of me, soft pants ghosting across my lips.
“Does that feel good?” I ask her, dragging my hands down the top curve before tickling my fingers down her feathers. Her answering moan has my cock feeling like it’s going to rip out of my pants. I can’t help myself as I thrust my hips clumsily against her.
Stella pulls back and hooks her fingers under the waistband of my shorts. “Can I?” I nod so fast it feels like my head is going to fall off. As she slips them down my hips and thighs, self-consciousness rears its ugly head again. My boxers are threadbare and years old. I’m sure there is a hole in them somewhere.
But I have never had money, and food took priority over underwear.
She doesn’t seem to notice, pulling them off swiftly, leaving me bare underneath her.
Topless, with her wings spread wide and wearing only a tiny pair of panties, Stella makes the most erotic picture. I swear this image is going to be burned into my retinas. I’ll see it every time I close my eyes until a Reaper comes for me.
My cock is weeping at the sight of her beauty.
Her likeness belongs in a museum.
“Clay,” she says, dragging her eyes down my body. “You are delicious.” I heat under her praise, and I know my blush travels to my ears. “Since this is your first time, I want to take care of you and make sure you’re enjoying yourself, okay?”
“I’m going to enjoy myself no matter what.” The words fly out of me. “I just want to touch you.”
“In due time. First, let’s find out what makes you feel good, okay?” Words escape me, so I nod, eyes going wide as she settles her hand around my cock.
The sensation is so overwhelming, so different than when I grip myself, that I thrust into her fist immediately.
“Uh uh, none of that.” She tightly squeezes my length in admonishment. “Stay still.”
The command washes over me, and I nod wordlessly. I can’t take my eyes off of where her hand clutches my cock. Her fingers, callused and strong, somehow look delicate around me.
Stella dips her head and licks a drop of cum from the tip of me, and I deserve a medal for being able to keep my hips still. She hums to herself, stroking me a few times before sliding my tip between her lips. A loud groan escapes me as I throw my head back.
“Quiet,” she says, covering my mouth with her spare hand. “We can’t get caught. Can you be quiet?” When I nod she taps the side of my face affectionately and whispers, “Good boy.”
My eyes roll into the back of my head, and my hips jerk so hard into the air it’s surprising she’s able to keep a hold of me.
“Stella,” I pant. “I… I’m not going to last long. I want to make you feel good first.”
Her red panties hit my chest as she pulls them off one handed. “Then come here.” She peels herself off of me and rests back on her elbows, feet planted on the bed and knees spread wide, leaving her cunt on display.
I crawl between her legs and kiss her thighs, rubbing my nose along the soft flesh. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I remind her.
“That’s okay. I’ll tell you when you’ve got it right.”
Tentatively, I run my tongue up her slit. Her taste is like a shot of adrenaline into my veins. Another lick, another rush, but this one travels directly to my cock, and I thrust my hips and rub it against my mattress to relieve some of the pressure.
“Flatten your tongue,” she instructs, and I do so. “Now, drag it from my entrance to the clit, then long slow licks.” I follow her instructions and am rewarded by her fingers tightening in my hair and her breathing going ragged. I pick up speed, eager to get more of a reaction out of her. “Slow down,” she snaps, and immediately, I return to the long and slow swipes of my tongue. “Good boy, just like that.”
Her praise has me aching, and I slip a hand down between myself and the mattress and squeeze my cock tightly to keep myself in check.
It doesn’t work.
I just end up fucking my fist with the taste of her on my tongue.
“Suck on my clit,” she commands, and I am helpless to resist. Though she doesn’t tell me to, I trace the tip of my finger at her entrance before slowly slipping it in. As I pull her nub between my lips she moans quietly and thrusts her hips forward. A heady pleasure overtakes me, knowing I’m the one who is giving her this type of joy.
I feel her clenching around my finger, her breathing picking up, when she pants out, “Another finger, please. Then bite, lightly.”
Biting would not have been my instinct, but she knows what she likes, and when I push that second finger inside her and gently close my teeth around her clit, her body jerks, and her thighs squeeze my ears. Sharp, high-pitched pants escape her lips, and I have to grip my cock in a brutally tight hold to keep from coming on my sheets like a teenager.
She closes her fingers in my hair, pulls my head up, then dives to my lips and savors her taste. Crawling, a predator with her prey, she pushes me backward on the bed and swings a leg over my hips.
“Are you sure?” she asks again. “I’ve been tested, and I’m on birth control.”
I appreciate the knowledge, but the likelihood of a Reaper and a Valkyrie reproducing together is so impossibly slim it probably wouldn’t even matter if she wasn’t.
“I’m so sure, I feel like I’m going to explode,” I answer honestly. I’ve barely finished talking before she lowers herself down on me.
Wet, tight heat envelops me, and I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. Stars flash behind my eyes, and my toes curl. She goes slowly, hands resting on either side of the chasm in my chest, rotating her hips as she fully seats herself.
Stella’s face is flushed as she begins to rock her hips back and forth. The friction is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and it’s amazing that anyone who’s ever had sex before gets anything else done.
I never want to leave the warmth of her embrace. I want to die with her pleasure on my lips, her rapture in my ears.
She grabs my hand and shows me how to rub her clit while she grinds against me. I can’t take my eyes off her face. She is beauty incarnate, and knowing that I am giving her that expression is power that will go to my head.
Quicker than I’d like, I feel the tingles and tightening that let me know I’ve not got much time before I spend myself. She must read it on my face. After leaning down to kiss me, sucking on my lower lip as she pulls away, she whispers, “Come for me, Clay.”
She clenches around me, and I buck up, groaning out my release. She rides me through it, taking over rubbing her clit, and then joins me with an orgasm that leaves her chest splotchy and red.
I gather her in my arms, and she falls to the surface of the bed. I hold her closely, enjoying the afterglow of something I never thought I’d experience. We kiss each other softly, stroking each other’s skin. Pure joy swims through me.
“So we’ve done it, then? I’m a part of the Raven?”
She blinks, staring at my chest, then sits up swiftly. “Check my spine, please.”
As she turns, I look at the tattoo I remember peeking on when she was in the shower. Two black symbols, a green one in the center, and two more black ones down her spine. “What am I looking for?”
“How many are colored?”
“Just one.” I’m starting to feel a strange sense of foreboding, and I am trying hard not to examine it too closely. “Why?”
“Stand up.” She jumps out of my bed and pulls me to my feet, holding my arms out and circling my body. “Where is it…” she mutters to herself as she runs her hand clinically over every inch of skin I have. “Where is it?”
Her high-pitched voice nearly stops my heart.
Because I know what this is.
I know what’s happening.
“I’m…” The words get clogged in my throat, and I find myself unable to speak. Every fear I feel in my gut reflects on her face when her eyes meet mine. That grief that I see is enough to loosen my vocal cords.
“I’m not in the Raven, am I?”
She rests a hand on her face. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe this wasn’t how it happens. Maybe…”
I take a step back, plastering a smile on my face. Smiling through the pain. “It’s fine. It’s totally okay. I’m not surprised. You need someone strong beside you. It’s fine. It makes sense.”
Of course, it makes sense.
Why would someone like me get someone as good as Stella?
I am a black hole of destruction.
I am death.
I don’t deserve to be around someone who shines with so much light.
She was never meant to be mine, and it was stupid of me to get my hopes up that she would be.
“Clay, I-”
“No, Stella. Don’t feel bad. It’s totally fine. It’s fine.”
If I say it enough, maybe I’ll believe it.
If I say it enough, maybe it’ll come true.
What is it they say about repeating it three times?
One more for good measure.
“It’s fine, Stella.”
There.
That should do it.
My chest aches, but I’m not going to examine that. It can wait.
I gather Stella’s clothes up and hand them to her. She slowly, methodically, pulls them on, her face full of the despair that threatens to overflow me if I let it.
“Clay -” she starts again.
“Stella. Please,” I implore. “We gave it a shot, and it didn’t work. You’re still my best friend. It’s okay if I can’t be more than that.”
I usher her to the door, aching for her to leave to let me fall apart in peace.
She doesn’t deserve to have to deal with my breakdown.
I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different.
It’s not like a death spirit deserves a chance at a happy life.
When she leaves, I close my eyes and fade into the void, unable to exist in a plane where Stella can’t be mine.