Chapter 7
Farah
I thrashed, still unable to breathe. There was water everywhere, around me, in me, on me.
I couldn’t find the way out; trapped. And then there he was, just like he’d been there for me then too.
A green, scaly face filled my vision. So handsome, so otherworldly, and so very alien.
Zeidon’s hands clasped my face, his forehead against mine, and the green glow of his scales surrounded me.
It took me a moment to notice all the changes, to come back to myself. First, I discovered I could breathe. There was no water trapping me, it came barely up to my knees. I drew air into my lungs in greedy, anxious gulps and the burning faded, as did the blackness dancing in front of my eyes.
With my breathing evening out, I could tell that I wasn’t even cold right now.
Zeidon had curled his long body around me, his arms kept me against his chest, and most of his tail was around my lower body.
It felt… Nice? I wasn’t quite sure what to think now that rational thought had returned.
I was embarrassed, shocked that I’d had a panic attack, and relieved that it was Zeidon holding me.
“Are you back?” he asked. I thought so, but I glanced over his arm to the water with a bit of trepidation.
I still wanted to get clean, but it was daunting to think I’d panicked so strongly just by dipping myself up to my neck in this water.
It was the coldness, I hoped, not just the water itself.
It would suck if I panicked each time I wanted to take a freaking bath.
“Good.” The rough whisper sounded so threaded with emotion that I jerked my head back up to look him in the eye.
We were so close that we were touching pretty much everywhere.
My bare breasts smashed against his chest, our mouths close enough for kissing.
I nixed the impulse to do just that immediately, caught in the wide-eyed stare he was giving me.
Then it morphed into something that looked remarkably like wry amusement.
“A Water Weaver Naga and a female afraid of the water, what a pair we make.”
So that’s what he called himself, Water Weaver?
I wondered why that was. “Let me take care of you,” Zeidon offered next.
I was already naked and all smushed up against his fantastic abs, I might as well let him.
He’d seen me at my worst anyway, many times.
I wasn’t sure why I’d gotten so worked up about it before, it seemed silly in retrospect.
A nod was all it took, he swirled me higher in his arms, his tail pushing against my butt.
Then he threw himself back and floated, cradling me carefully along his body like he was my personal raft.
With cupped hands and gentle undulations of his tail, he made sure I was wet everywhere, including my hair.
I closed my eyes when the water ran over my face in rivulets, but I didn’t find that sensation all that frightening.
It was a small miracle that he managed to locate that precious piece of soap, but he did.
It was a bit soggy and reduced in size but still workable.
He lathered me up with his hands, stroking along my skin in gentle motions.
At first, those seemed practical and impersonal but as my flesh warmed against his scales, the touches became more sensual.
When he started on my hair, he rotated us just enough for me to lean back over one arm.
It felt good and I started to relax. See, water wasn’t that bad, especially not when you had a sexy man, alien, like Zeidon, pampering you like it was a spa.
His clawed fingers felt exquisite as he massaged my scalp.
I didn’t even mind that my breasts were on full display like this, it was gratifying to see his eyes flick from his handiwork down to admire them with quick stolen glances.
We were done without ever experiencing another wave of panic.
This time I couldn’t stop the impulse, I leaned up and brushed my mouth over his; a thank you for how good he was to me.
I felt a million times better now. Clean, warm, and not in the least self-conscious about being a little less in shape compared to my twenties.
Then Zeidon gasped, a rumble vibrating his chest. His lips didn’t feel quite human, a little rougher against my sensitive mouth on account of the fine scales that covered them.
He was stiff against me but when I pulled back his hand snapped out and caught the back of my neck, holding me in place.
His eyes glowed as brightly as the markings on his scales did whenever we touched, and his weird forked tongue flicked out in the small space between us. “What was that?” he growled roughly.
What was that? He didn’t know? I had never encountered anyone who didn’t know what kissing was.
This guy lived by himself in a cave, collecting all kinds of spare parts from a past civilization.
He barely spoke, and it seemed his main interactions were with animals, not his own kind.
It wasn’t that far-fetched to believe he really didn’t know.
“A kiss,” I said. He had me in a tight grip I couldn’t escape, my naked and wet body pressed against him.
Coils of his tail curled around my legs, slowly gliding along my flesh, and warming me.
He rose, but our positions didn’t change beyond becoming vertical.
Only a few inches separated our mouths; a temptation.
If I could, I would have closed the distance, but his grip on the back of my neck kept me frozen in place.
He hissed, and his eyes took on this feral gleam that made my core squirm and clench.
I knew that when that long, agile tongue flicked out again, he would know that I was turned on.
He lowered his mouth to mine slowly, his eyes staying locked on mine.
When our mouths met, I jolted against him as a spear of pleasure shot straight through me.
The growl that came from him was even fiercer, his tongue slicked between my lips, and my whole world lit on fire.
He didn’t know what a kiss was? That was a joke.
He knew exactly what he was doing as our tongues tangled and our mouths collided.
His chest vibrated against my nipples with the feral noise that came from him.
I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t even want to breathe.
Who needed air when you were getting kissed like that?
I had a sense of movement, a purple-tinted world spinning from the corners of my eyes.
Then my back collided with a soft fur on rustling grass, Zeidon’s body was on me, a shield between myself and his strange, alien world.
His mouth ravaged mine, tongue dipping, twining, tugging.
I was a slave to those sensations. Willingly giving myself to it and nothing else, no memories, no sickness or weakness. Just the pleasure he offered.
His growls and groans were wild and rough, his hands in my hair possessive and firm.
I felt his body undulate against me, felt his scales slide across my wet skin.
I wanted to wriggle in the same way and let my legs fall open to cradle his narrow hips.
To let him know I was wet in more ways than one.
When his body slid against mine again pleasure sparked through me so hot and bright I saw stars; I hovered on the edge of the precipice and that had never happened to me so fast.
Then I felt it and my thoughts whirled in surprise, though in hindsight I wasn’t sure why it surprised me that much.
His cock pressed against my belly suddenly, not there one moment, and there the next as he growled and yanked my leg wider.
Pleasure speared through me at the rough touch, at the sudden clear evidence of his desire for me.
Then the top of his cock wriggled, writhed, and I realized it was split.
Split like his freaking tongue was, that was going to be interesting.
He was sexy, muscled all over, so alien and handsome, but I still hadn’t given his cock much thought until now.
Now I was giving it a lot of thought. It was huge, pressing into my soft belly like a brand, the tips leaking as they moved on their own, like a pair of thick fingers.
I was no wilting wallflower, no shy virgin, but I was pretty daunted by the size of him. How were we ever going to fit?
If not for the saltwater and sweet scent of him, a scent that seemed to drive me a little crazy, a little hot, I might have balked.
I just couldn’t when he surrounded me like he did, when I was so overwhelmed by his taste, his scent, the heat of him against me.
Most of all, the pleasure his mouth and body filled me with took away all worry and fear.
This felt too good to put a stop to, and with how sick I’d been, I was ready for all the good feelings.
He had me pinned, my legs spread with his tail, one leg wrapped up in several coils of it.
My arms were above my head, held by one fist, while the other hand was on my neck, holding me in place with gentle pressure.
I felt cared for, protected, when he held me so precisely, but I also really wanted to tilt my head and peer down so I could see that monster of a cock.
As if he heard my thoughts his head suddenly lifted, his green eyes piercing me with a heated stare.
A stare that said so many things, but especially: you are mine.
Then his arms shifted, his body raised and I got my wish, staring down between my flushed breasts, along the ridges of his abdominal muscles, and straight to the large cock rising between us.
Yup, split tip. They twined together, then moved apart and my core spasmed as I pictured how that would feel inside of me.