Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Breakfast in Bed
Quin
When Quin woke, she was warm and sated, boneless in a way she’d never experienced before.
She was entangled with Glyma’s cooler body, limbs and tails knotted together thoroughly, like the Succubus had feared Quin would try to escape while she slept, so she’d secured her in place to keep her here.
Cuddling had never been her favorite—it usually made her feel claustrophobic or trapped—but she didn’t mind so much when it was Glyma at her back.
The sheets smelled like them, their combined scents of nutmeg and cardamom, smoke and scorched earth. And sex. Lots of sex.
Turning her face into the pink pillow, she hid her gleeful smile and hugged Glyma’s arm tighter to her chest. The purple fingers splayed over her sternum between her breasts twitched, then slid higher to stroke around her neck.
“Good morning,” Glyma purred, and Quin hummed, enjoying the way the base of her horns tingled as the sound of her lover’s voice.
“Is it even still morning?” Quin asked, feeling like they’d slept half the day away already. Granted, they’d stayed up late, so they’d earned a bit of sleeping in, in her opinion.
She felt Glyma shrug. “I don’t know. Don’t really care either.”
Quin snorted, shivering when Glyma nuzzled behind her ear. “Nowhere to be?”
“Nowhere but right here.” Glyma trailed feather-light kisses down Quin’s neck to her shoulder, tiny fangs nipping playfully. “You?”
“There’s a luncheon somewhere, celebrating something I don’t care about,” she said as she angled her head to give Glyma better access. “I don’t think I’ll attend.”
She heard more than saw Glyma’s smile. “Good girl.”
A determined, purple tail wriggled between Quin’s legs, fluffy tuft dusting over her closed petals.
It was teasing more than anything, but her blood quickened all the same.
She shifted, widening her legs, and Glyma groaned in approval.
The hand at Quin’s throat glided down her torso to cup her between her legs, and they both shuddered.
“I love breakfast in bed,” Glyma said with another nip at Quin’s shoulder, and Quin released a breathy laugh. “Do you want to open for me, baby?”
Nodding, Quin relaxed into the mattress and unfolded her fragile petals, granting Glyma entry.
Her touch was so light, so gentle, stroking over the gauzy folds, but then the heel of her hand added pressure to Quin’s clits, rubbing in a firm circle.
With a whimper of pleasure, Quin rolled her hips into Glyma’s hand, and the Succubus moaned.
Their lovemaking was unrushed and relaxed, Glyma’s fingers teasing shallowly at her entrance.
She didn’t push inside until Quin covered her hand with her own and guided two purple fingers into her channel.
Penetration wasn’t something Quin usually liked, but she trusted Glyma to be gentle.
Reaching back with her other hand, Quin cupped Glyma’s face as she gasped into the pillow, smothering her desperate noises as best she could.
“None of that now,” Glyma chided, tail circling Quin’s neck loosely, prodding at her chin to turn her away from the pillow. “Let me hear you.”
“Fuck!” Quin arched as the heel of Glyma’s hand found a steady rhythm on her clits, fingers curling and stroking inside. “Glym, gods, it… so good.”
“You feel good, too. So wet for me,” she praised, and Quin’s face flamed with embarrassment. Or maybe that was pleasure; she couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. “Quin, can I—”
“Yes,” Quin choked out before Glyma even finished the question, and Glyma’s tail flexed around Quin’s throat.
Then her aura licked along Quin’s skin, like prickling kisses of downy feathers.
It sank deeper until she could feel it in her veins, in her nerve-endings.
Her eyes rolled back into head when her chest filled with Glyma’s energy, and her whole body was on fire.
She’d gotten high once, when she was seventeen and stupid, and she’d hooked up with some guy at a party. He’d gone down on her, and the drugs had dialed every sensation up to a hundred. It was the only time a man had made her come, but she definitely blamed it more on the drugs than the man.
Glyma’s aura felt like that, like a drug coursing through her veins until every nerve popped and every color brightened.
Every pleasure signal fired at once. Every sensation racketed higher and higher until it was system overload.
She was moaning and undulating, lost in a sea of near-overwhelming pleasure.
Then it peaked, and then it crashed. And she was falling, falling, falling as Glyma followed her over edge.
As her Succubus aura receded like the tide, Glyma sighed in satisfaction, kissing Quin’s neck, licking up the sweat beading there. “Thank you.”
It took Quin a few extra seconds to clear her brain enough to speak. “That’s my line.”
Carefully, Glyma’s fingers slid free of Quin’s channel, and they glistened in the daylight as Glyma held them up, as if in admiration of a job well done. Quin flushed, barely resisting the urge to hide her face again.
“I love the way your arousal smells,” Glyma said as she popped her fingers into her mouth and groaned. “Love the way you taste, too.”
“Gods.” Quin did hide her face, then, and Glyma giggled.
“Oh, don’t act shy now.” She pulled Quin’s hands away from her face and smothered her with kisses until they were both in fits of laughter. “You literally squirted on my face last night, but now, suddenly, you’re shy?”
With mortified cry, Quin struggled to escape Glyma’s hold. “How can you just say that? It’s embarrassing.”
“Are you kidding me?” Glyma spun them around until Quin was perched on her soft, thick belly. “I loved it. It was so hot, watching you in your pleasure, being covered in your slick.”
Exposed by their position and Glyma’s words, Quin shifted restlessly, avoiding Glyma’s gaze. “Stop, Glym.”
“Why?” Sitting up, Glyma wrapped Quin in her arms so she couldn’t escape her lap.
“You’re beautiful, Quin. The sounds you make, the expressions on your face, the way you give so freely, and the way you’re so responsive that just a touch”—her tail teased over Quin’s folded petals, gathering the slick leaking through—“makes you gasp. Every single thing about you is beautiful.”
Her pink eyes held nothing but honesty and awe as she gazed at Quin adoringly, and Quin’s throat clogged with emotion.
She framed Glyma’s face and leaned in, kissing her soundly.
They both tasted sour from sleep, but Quin didn’t care.
She kissed Glyma desperately, trying to communicate everything she couldn’t say with words.
When they parted, she rubbed her thumbs over Glyma’s full cheeks and pushed past her reservations.
“I absolutely adore you, and I want to be with you. Not only like this,” she said, gesturing vaguely to their naked bodies pressed together.
“But in all ways. I want everything. All of it. With you. I just want to be with you.”
Moisture welled in Glyma’s eyes, even as she smiled so brightly it was near-blinding. “Your soul sings to mine,” she said, a hand coming to rest on Quin’s chest over her heart. “Do you hear my soulsong?”
Quin wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but she nodded anyway. If anyone’s soul could ever sing to hers, it would be Glyma’s, and there was no other soulsong she wanted to hear.
“I’m going to love you,” Glyma said, cupping Quin’s cheek. “You hear me? I’m going to love you, Quin Duboi, until my last breath and after.”
On a broken sob, Quin kissed her again, then she tucked her face in her neck and shuddered. “I’m going to love you, too. I don’t think it’s possible for me not to.”
And Glyma smiled into her cheek and said, “You’re godsdamned right.”
“Let me please you, now,” Quin said, face still hidden as she teased Glyma’s nipple.
“I came when you did,” Glyma reminded her, and Quin shrugged.
“So?” She kissed Glyma’s shoulder and gave her nipple a pinch. “I haven’t had my breakfast in bed yet.”
With a throaty chuckle, Glyma lay back on the bed, arms splayed comfortably over her head. “Why, Miss Duboi, how scandalous you are.”
Quin cocked her head and admired Glyma’s beauty. Her heavy breasts and thick belly, the purple satin of her skin, and the way her dark hair fanned over the sheets. She was the most breathtaking creature she had ever seen, and Quin wanted to worship her.
So she did. She tasted her mouth first, then worked her way down the column of her throat. Cradling her breasts in her hands, she pushed them together so she could alternate between nipples, sucking first one, then the other into her mouth. Glyma sighed in pleasure, then gasped as Quin bit gently.
As Quin slowly licked her way down Glyma’s body, the Succubus’s tail feathered over her.
It danced down her spine and tickled between her buttcheeks.
Then it coiled around her leg and flexed.
While Quin was busy smothering her face in Glyma’s apron belly, the tail slipped between her legs and rubbed.
“You’re distracting me,” Quin half-groaned, half-griped, and Glyma laughed.
Spreading Glyma’s thick thighs, Quin breathed in the extra thick scent of nutmeg and cardamom, spicy and warm. Her mouth watered as she stroked a finger down Glyma’s glistening slit. Downy purple hairs clumped together from her arousal, and Quin slid a finger through it. Wet and warm and perfect.
She licked her finger clean, tastebuds bursting with her sweet flavor. Coffee cake and cinnamon and… almond icing. Gods, it was unfair how anyone could taste this good.
“Do you want to taste more of me?” Glyma asked, reaching a hand between her legs and spreading her slit to give Quin a view of her ribbed entrance and textured walls.