Chapter 10
Moerrven
His hands left my horns. I made a mortifying sound of protest, and he laughed, low and warm.
I had written trolgar scenes into many of my novels: the ache of wanting to be touched there, the vulnerability of permitting it, the devastating openness that followed.
But now I was wondering how well I had captured the reality of it.
It was heady and addictive and so damn good.
No amount of research or imagination had prepared me for the experience itself.
I hadn’t considered what it would be like to sense the wild desperation he felt as he surged forward, rocking his cock against mine, or how intense it would be to understand how much sucking on my tongue delighted him.
He pulled back, breathing hard, and gave me a little shove. “Lie down.”
I complied, because I knew something of the wickedness inside Sky’s mind and I desperately wanted to see what he’d do if I gave myself over to it. He ripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, then tugged at mine.
“Can I explore you? All of you?” he asked, his fingers slipping under the waistband of my trousers.
“Yes.” I lifted my hips and let him slide them off, and Sky gasped in delight as my cock sprang free. He untied the ties on the front of my shirt, and I sat up long enough for him to shove it off my shoulders, then sprawled back out on the bedrolls, bare for him, cock hard against my stomach.
“Fuck, you’re pretty.” His hands came up and framed my face, and his thumbs traced my jaw, my cheekbones, the ridge of bone above my brows.
“Trolls are not pretty.”
“Oh, you are,” he said, kissing his way down my throat, tracing his fingers over my pectoral muscles.
“This line,” he said, licking and nipping at my collarbone.
He moved lower, stopping to pay particular attention to my left nipple, until I was squirming and whimpering beneath him.
“Your muscles are beautiful for someone who never works out.”
“Works out of what?”
Sky laughed. “In my world, people do exercise for the purpose of exercise. They take classes where they lift heavy things for hours each day to sculpt muscles like these.” He kissed my shoulders, my chest.
“I lift heavy things for hours each day in my garden, I suppose,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip. “But not for the purpose of beauty. I do it when my brain won’t cooperate with writing.”
“Whether or not it’s for the purpose of beauty, you’ve accomplished it,” Sky said, slowly kissing lower. “You’re trembling.”
“I am aware of that.”
“It’s adorable on a big, strong troll like you.” His fingers slid lower, finding the dip of my belly button, and he followed it with kisses over the muscles of my stomach.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I am not adorable.”
“You are. You could flip me onto this bedroll and fuck me right here.” He kissed my hip, going everywhere but my cock like it was a game to make me growl. “But instead you’re going out of your mind with need while letting me play.”
“You told me to lie down, so I’m—oh, okay, right there is nice. Kiss me more right there, please.”
He smiled against my skin. “You’re so fucking sweet and sexy,” he murmured, stopping to nip at my stomach, his teeth scraping in the most perfect way. I clenched my fists at my side, fighting for control. “And I want to take you apart.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I vote yes to that plan.”
His hand skimmed over the tight muscles of my arm. “Mm, what are you holding back, Moerrven? What are you stopping yourself from doing, big guy?”
“I want—” I blew out a breath. “I want to let you have your way with me.”
That earned me a rough chuckle. “Have my way with you? And you say you’re not cute.”
“Is that not what you want?”
He lifted his chin enough to meet my eyes. “This is exactly what I want. Me in charge, you undone beneath me, begging for things you could just take with brute strength.”
“Oh, I would never!”
“It’s the idea. Someone so damn big and strong completely at my mercy.
” He blew gently on my cock and balls, and I squirmed, wishing his lips would just go ahead and touch me already.
“I want to fuck you until there’s nothing in that busy mind of yours but need.
Need to drink my cum, need to serve, to hear me call you a good boy.
And then when you’re all wrung out, mindless and desperate, I’m going to suck your brains out via your dick. ”
Nobody had spoken to me in such a filthy way: not Bryndala, who had been tender and soft, not anyone in the years since, because there had been no one.
“My brains can’t come out that way. That’s impossible.”
He burst out laughing, dropping his forehead against my stomach. “I’m willing to try.”
“It was a metaphor, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, instead choosing to return to making me beg, a task I feared he was quite perfectly suited for. He knew exactly where I needed him, and seemed quite determined to never fully touch it.
“Please, Sky. I need you.”
“Need me where?”
I huffed out a breath. “On my cock, obviously. Do the brain suck thing. You’ve tortured me plenty.”
“It’s been five minutes.”
“It’s been several days. Since I met you on the bridge.”
He smiled, planting kisses on the skin just beside the base of my cock, moving so close that his breath feathered over me. “This is the prettiest part of you. You really are proportional to your size. And I want to use it in every filthy way I can think of.”
“Sky—”
“Shh.” He let his lips graze against my cock, and I dug my fingernails into my palms. “I’m going to have so much fun with this as my toy.”
He wrapped his fingers around the base of my shaft, and a curse slipped from my lips.
“I’ve been thinking about this, too.” He kissed a path down my shaft, giving it little swipes with his tongue. “In the bathtub, in that bed in Sorrend, on your lap while I’m reading to you. This big, fat troll cock has been in every fantasy I’ve had since we met.”
He licked me, one slow, broad stroke from base to tip, and my hips bucked off the bedroll, my hands fisted in the blanket, and I was glad we were all alone in the wilderness, where no one could hear us.
He took me into his mouth.
His mouth was a different kind of heat: wet, tight, deliberate, as if it was made just for me.
His lips stretched around me and he took me deep, deeper than I would have thought possible given the difference in our sizes.
His tongue pressed flat against the underside and dragged, and I groaned from somewhere below my ribs.
He pulled off, giving me a few hard strokes. “Good boy,” he said. “You’re so fucking sexy for me, Moerrven.”
Good boy.
I was a hundred and twenty-seven years old. I had written fourteen novels, two of which had won the Sapphire Quill Award. I had lost the love of my life and carried myself through five years of mourning.
So why did those words bloom warm in my chest? Why did they make me want to do anything he asked of me?
He went deeper, pressing the head of my cock against the back of his throat, and I felt him swallow as if he might drink me down. I clutched the bedroll to keep myself in check because I wanted nothing more than to fuck the wet heat, to push so deep inside his mouth that we became one.
“Sky. I cannot… if you continue, I will—”
He sucked for a moment longer, until my back was arched off of the ground and every muscle tightened in anticipation. Then he pulled off. “Not yet.”
“Wait. What?”
“Not yet.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at me, and his grin was filthy and delighted and nothing like the sweet chaos I had been categorizing him as since the bridge. “I’m not done with you.”
He rose to his feet. His hands went to his own trousers, unlaced them, pushed them down his thighs, and did a little hopping thing as he kicked them off. His cock was hard, flushed dark, and he gave it one slow stroke, his eyes on mine.
If anyone’s cock was pretty, it was his. Everything about Sky Liang was beautiful and finely proportioned.
“I want to fuck your mouth while I hold your horns. Is that — can I?”
I had never had another man in my mouth. The mechanics were clear. He was smaller than me, and my mouth was more than adequate. But the image of it, the vulnerability and the trust and the fact that he wanted to grip my trolgar while using my mouth—
“Yes,” I said, and my voice came out ragged, hardly my own. “Please.”
He moved up my body. His thighs settled on either side of my head, and the scent of him filled my nose, sweat, skin, the sharp musk of arousal.
His cock pressed against my lips and I opened for him.
The first slide of him into my mouth was salt and warmth and the weight of him above me.
He was bigger than I would have expected, but still small enough for me to easily take all of him.
And he felt so perfectly right seated deep in my mouth that I moaned, giving him a gentle, tentative suck.
He stayed where he was, balls heavy against my chin, cock buried to the hilt as his hands slid slowly down my horns, teasing me with the touch I needed. I wanted to beg but that was logistically difficult with a cock in my mouth, and I definitely did not want to spit him out.
So I swirled my tongue around him, the way he had with me, and watched his eyes roll back.
“Naughty boy, I know what you want.” He gripped the base of both horns, his thumbs pressing into the pressure point above my trolgar gland.
And suddenly, I could feel his pleasure layered over my own.
It wasn’t specific, not like I was reading his mind, just a wave of pure, clean, sexual pleasure.
I moved my tongue up to lap at his slit, and when I found the exact right spot, the feedback loop of it almost made me come.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Your mouth, Moerrven. Fuck, your mouth is so hot. You fit me so well.” He rocked his hips, shallow at first, and I gripped his thighs and pulled him deeper. “Yeah? You want more?”