Chapter 13 - Bea
“You have awoken.”
The words are spoken in a gentle, deep voice, but I actually hadn’t properly woken up at all.
I’d slept so well last night in Zyntarr’s arms, his soft feathers cradling me, giving me a show of slow, colorful twinkles as his stars would gently pulse between bright and dim.
It kind of felt like one of those baby night-lights had lulled me into a blissful sleep.
And I’d only just sat up this morning, my eyes still heavy, and my brain still clinging onto the most wonderful dream. I was fully ready to flop back down in Zyntarr’s nest and get a few more minutes of shut-eye before I’d registered that he’s there - filling the open doorway to his hut.
My vision starts to sharpen and all memories of specifics from my dream melt away into unreachable nothingness, only to be replaced by the dreamy sight in front of me.
Zyntarr’s tail twitches behind him, lined by sunlight from the morning outside.
He has to duck his head and tuck his wings close to his back to enter his own home, blocking out the light momentarily as he does.
His skin-stars burst at his temples and twirl around his bulging bicep only to travel down his forearm to meet where his hand is balancing a carved wooden tray. He brought me breakfast.
Scooting my butt up the nest-bed, I watch as he carefully lays the tray in front of me. It’s piled with colorful fruits and smoked meats. “You’re too good to me,” I tell him, eying the bounty.
Zyntarr snorts. “There is no such thing.”
When he sits, I suddenly find that all my conversational skills flee to the far corners of my mind, just out of reach.
What do you normally say to the man who made you come last night?
My first orgasm shared with someone else.
The man that, if I’m honest with myself, I’ve wanted for quite some time now, but never let myself believe I could have.
I settle for a quiet ‘thank you,’ and quickly swipe one of the smaller, sweet nectar berries on the platter.
Swiftly putting the fruit into my mouth in place of any expectation to talk.
But where my mouth can’t seem to get it together and function properly, my eyes seem perfectly happy in taking over.
In short - I stare as I chew. I stare at this beautiful man, completely littered with scars on his huge, imposing frame.
I stare at his stunning, ink-black wings, his huge, sculpted thighs, and that one, perfect, sky-blue eye framed with thick, dark lashes.
And… his chest… you can’t miss it on him - it’s broad and just so incredibly… solid. And woefully heart-star-less.
The brief dip at that revelation doesn’t stop me from ogling Zyntarr like he’s carved specifically for my naughty fantasies. In fact, I must spend so long staring at him that I feel like I’ve been caught doing something illegal when Zyntarr finally clears his throat.
It’s only then as my cheeks seem to catch fire that I realize I’d swallowed that fruit a long time ago.
I duck my head with embarrassment, but Zyntarr either doesn’t realize, or doesn’t mind. Instead, he simply asks me, “may I feed you this morning, little Bea?”
I blink back at him, the platter still placed between us. “Uh… ok.”
Zyntarr shifts back a little on his big feathered nest and briefly indicates to his thigh with a quick drop of his gaze.
Oh.
“You… want me to sit in your lap?”
He grunts and nods. “If it would please you.”
Hell yeah, it would please me.
I hush the voice in my mind. That kind of voice pops up every now and again.
She doesn’t show up a lot, though she’s been more vocal lately when I’ve been around Zyntarr.
It’s like there’s all these different Beas stuck in my head and for so, so long it’s been the scared Bea that gets to shout the loudest all this time.
I eye Zyntarr’s offered thigh. It’s big.
And, the more I stare at it, the more skin-stars gather there - like lights on an airfield runway guiding me home.
The little horny Bea inside my head kind of wants to lick those stars…
and then maybe give his thigh a gentle bite.
“Bea?”
Oh. Right.
“Uh, yeah. Yes. I’ll-…You can…”
Instead of continuing to babble and bluster my way through my awkward words, I simply duck my head and get up to move - move to sit myself on Zyntarr’s lap.
So he can hand-feed me.
Horny Bea is having a field day.
I’m a pretty average size woman, but sitting on Zyntarr makes me feel really small.
And, even though we’re already in the privacy of his own hut, Zyntarr wraps his big, black wings around us as soon as I get myself comfortably perched on his lap.
His hand darts out beneath his feathers and then reappears, clutching a collection of food he’d just blindly grabbed at.
He cradles the mixture of fruits and cured meats in his massive, mitt of a palm, his thick fingers curling around like a bowl.
“Do you like these foods?” he asks, and I’m sitting so incredibly close in this intimate little bubble he’s created that I can feel the vibrations of his voice and the heat of his body.
I nod my head. I’ve always liked anything that Zyntarr offers me. He’s an excellent cook, and very observant. I’m sure I’ll enjoy anything he picks.
Almost as much as I’m enjoying sitting on his lap.
“If you would permit me,” Zyntarr continues in his deep, rumbling voice as he takes care to select a slice of purple fruit with tiny green seeds clustered around the center, “I would feed you by hand each and every day.” He says the last part as he slides the slice onto my waiting tongue, his thick digits brushing away an errant drip of juice that escapes the corner on my mouth.
He watches me chew, his bright blue eye fixated so intently on my mouth it makes me kind of self-conscious.
Am I chewing too fast like a chipmunk? Or am I taking too long, making him regret even offering to feed me this way.
Which is kind of silly anyway. Do I want to be hand-fed all the time? Probably not. But this is nice. Just this one time. While I have all his attention. While he’s taking care of me.
I swallow as soon as I comfortably can, but before I get a chance to say that he doesn’t really need to be doing this - and certainly not all the time, Zyntarr’s fingers are back at my mouth with an offering of more food.
It’s a combination of two things pinched within his grasp this time.
A thin slice of a black fruit I know to taste a bit like an orange, even though it looks nothing like one, paired with a small chunk of gamey meat.
“You will like the flavors together,” he tells me as I eye the morsel.
I’ve no reason to doubt him, so I part my lips and let him feed me all while maintaining an ungodly amount of intense eye contact.
Zyntarr slips the food into my mouth, and I try so hard not to lick and suck on the tips of his finders as he slides them out again.
I think I fail, because Zyntarr’s eye drops to my mouth as his lips part and his breath hitches.
I don’t think I’ve ever made anyone’s breath hitch before. Well, not in that w-
Oh, my God! The combination of sweet citrus and rich, aromatically seasoned meat is divine. I can’t help but close my eyes and let out a sound of appreciation as I savor every note of flavor on my tongue.
“I will definitely be feeding you every day, my mate.”
The words come from the other side of my closed eyelids. They sound strained and… starved. I feel a flutter between my thighs just from the way his voice changes when he gets like this. When he calls me his mate even though we both know that might not be the case.
“There’s no need for that,” I say once I’m looking at him again, my words quiet, and sounding just as strained as his had.
“There is,” Zyntarr insists. “The need is mine, little Bea. Let me feed you each and every day for the rest of our lives, just like this.”
It’s a ridiculous thought. I don’t need to be hand-fed.
But it’s sweet and… hot. Like, really, really hot.
I shift on his thigh - an act that pulls a soft groan from his throat when I realize my outer thigh is brushing up against the large, heavy length beneath his loincloth.
I feel my whole body blush with the realization that I do that to him.
“Well, if you’re going to feed me, then let me repay the favor at least,” I hear myself say as I reach for a blue fruit, shaped like a strawberry that I know to be the juiciest thing you’ll ever put in your mouth.
I offer it up to Zyntarr’s lips and wait.
My gaze darting up to his single uncovered eye after a moment of waiting for his lips to part.
“Males serve their females, not the other way around,” he rasps. Though he takes a bite of the juicy fruit anyway.
I can’t help it - I chuckle. “Is that so?”
Zyntarr nods as he chews and then swallows.
I watch as his skin stars seem to chase the food down his throat, dancing and twirling around his Adam’s apple as it bobs with the swallow.
“Yes. My ancestors did not cherish and care for their females as they should have. They were taken from them as punishment. They were foolish and did not realize the gifts they had been given.”
I blindly pluck another piece of fruit from Zyntarr’s hand and offer it up to him. “That’s not how a relationship works,” I tell him, watching him chew again. “I don’t need you to serve me. And I’d like to take care of you too.”
Zyntarr swallows, his voice rich and sonorous as he asks, “you would?”
I nod my head, maintaining eye contact with that beautiful blue eye of his. Yes. I’d like to take care of this man.
In more ways than one, ‘horny Bea’ says salaciously from the back of my mind.
And suddenly, all I can think about is how I could serve this huge, brooding, mountain of a man in all the filthy ways that ‘horny Bea’ could conjure up.