Jack
She wants me. It’s a rush. It’s fire in my loins. It makes me gnash my teeth, wanting to rip into her, but instead, I look at her naked body as she shivers on the bed. It’s not cold. She’s shy. She thinks the darkness hides all but her outline, but not to my eyes. I can see everything, every swell from breast to hip, the indents along her spine and ribs, the way her nipples stiffen and her nether lips glisten.
“Are you going to undress?” she asks.
“Do you mean am I going to bed you properly this time?”
A croaked, “Yes.”
“Would you like to be married first?”
“Yes!”
“Then obviously, we’ll wait. I have no need to rush, now that you’re mine. You are mine, aren’t you? I can do this every day?” I sink to my knees and part hers, licking my lips.
“Yes. No! No, of course there will be a few days each month when you can’t. Soon, in fact.”
“What?” I dig my claws into her thighs, and she squeals.
My cock almost bursts my flies at the sound. I have to yank myself free and pump with one hand as she wriggles under my grip.
“When a woman is in her monthly courses. You can’t... You can’t.”
“Why can’t I?” I believe she’s talking about when women bleed.
“There’s blood, .”
“I love your blood.”
And that silences her. I’ve told her again and again what I am, but humans can’t see. Can’t believe.
Maybe shouldn’t play at human tonight. Maybe should be a Flameheel and eat her the way he wants to.
Well, almost the way he wants to.
I take advantage of her stunned silence to push her legs wide apart, claws forceful, digging in until she cries out in pain, then attacking her soft, swollen cunt with my mouth. This time I bite before I suck. I pull her softest inner lips, stretching them while I finger her slit, spreading her juice from her pearl to her pucker and licking them both.
Her noises unhinge me. They run the gamut from whimpering squeaks to low, deep moans. When she closes her legs on my hungry cheeks, I snarl and nip her, rebuking her. “This is mine!” I warn, rising.
I lean over her and squeeze her breasts, sucking hard on her tight nipples as my long, thick cock rubs against her snatch, her wetness soaking me. “This is mine,” I repeat between sucks. “My cock is aching to be inside of you this second. Can you feel how hard and hungry he is for you?” I growl, thrusting against her. I put my hand down to part her lips, nudging myself against her entrance.
We don’t fit well.
Hm. That poses a problem.
Polly’s hand comes between us, and I think she’s going to push me away, remind me of my promise to wait. I wasn’t going to break it, and I shouldn’t have made her think I was.
But to my surprise, her little fingers curl around my shaft and she bucks against me. “It’s yours,” she agrees with a sigh. “Get on the bed.”
Do I risk it? Humans are oblivious, true, but isn’t my bride bound to notice that my smooth humanesque thighs lead to thick, hairy, bull-like hocks and then black narrow hooves?
“You had a taste. Don’t you want to be touched in return?” she whispers, hand falling away.
I drag it back quickly. “I do. Of course I do. But I’m not done with you yet. I only had a taste. A taste isn’t enough for someone starved for you.”
I climb up beside her, cock out, trousers up, and huddle her naked body to my half-clothed one, kissing and sucking on every inch I can reach until she turns to face me—and our lips meet again.
They fuse. Mouths open.
Tongues slide into one hot coil as her hand works around me and my fingers dance between her thighs. Some of her moans turn off too quickly as my fingers start to thrust into her exquisite softness. Is it my claws? I have them curled away from her walls. “Polly?”
“It’s fine, sir. It’s fine, ,” she quickly corrects.
“Why does it hurt? Am I scratching you?”
“No! Never had anything in so deep, that’s all. All the girls say it hurts at first.”
“Hurts at first?” I don’t like that. It’s not supposed to hurt her when I give her pleasure, and yet I know I’ve been too rough, too careless. As oddly restful as it is to clutch her close and kiss her, I slip down her body and ply my tongue again.
“. Oh, God. Oh. Ohhh. Oh, yes!”
My fingers concentrate on the outside while my softer tongue darts inside of her, wriggling and lapping. Flameheels have very long tongues when we want to extend them fully, and I push mine deep inside, until I feel a fine net of resistance. I taste blood, and my saliva fills my mouth, almost like venom pooling before a bite.
But I’m no serpent, and I don’t bite—this time. I wriggle and lap as she plants her hands in my hair—and then around my horns. She uses them as leverage, rocking her swollen bead against my upper lip, lost in herself.
I’m not complaining. I arch one hip up so that one of my hands can race up and down my aching cock in time to her frantic thrusts.
I let my mind go, just as Polly lets her body go.
Her blood on my tongue.
Juice in my mouth. Her hands locked around my horns as she rides my face, oh, God. Oh, divinity!
A creature like me doesn’t deserve this. “Ahhh,” I gasp as my cum rushes out over my hand without warning, firing freely.
“, , Ja—ack!” Polly wails the last word as her walls clutch and flutter around my tongue. “Ohh. Ohh, God, it happened again. It’s so good,” she half-sobs, curling up into a ball with her knees on her chest, hugging herself.
“It is. It’s so good.” I leave her with one long lick and slide up against her, cradling her, pulling her tight to me. I want to inhale that freshly pleasured scent that seems to seep from every pore.
“It always seemed so wicked,” she moans, arm flinging over my neck as she shakes. I can feel the pulses that still jump through her.
“I think it is wicked,” I muse. “To share this with someone and then leave them. That would be wicked indeed.” Breeding is nothing like this with Flameheels. It’s over in seconds, quick and violent, with almost no words exchanged. This feels... “It’s like a secret of the soul. And these parts we hide, letting someone have total control over them—ohh, it brings the most intense pleasure, and the greatest fear at once.” I think of her, knowing that to Polly, coupling would never have been something good or equal with Bunson, and probably not with most other men. I’m no saint, nothing good... But I make her feel good, and I take good care of her.
I like it.