Chapter 6
Winny
Gillian is gorgeous when she’s on the cusp of her orgasm. When I called her, I figured we’d flirt a bit and maybe both get off together to take the edge off of today’s stress, but I can’t tear my eyes off her long enough to focus on doing more than idly fingering myself.
Part of that is the bulky ice pack on my shoulder.
It’s still acting up after today’s debacle, and the ice and my over the counter meds can only do so much.
But mostly, she’s captivating. It’s enough to watch Gillian panting for breath, moaning as she rides her vibrator, her suckers on two tentacles working her clit in a slithering tangle of need.
Fuck, I want to know what that feels like.
All those little points of suction tasting me has my clit throbbing with want as I tease myself.
“So close, dragon, please,” Gillian moans, like music to my ears.
"Not yet. When you come for me, I want you to say my name, treasure.
" I don't leave room for argument or the possibility she'll refuse.
Gillian won't deny me this, quite the contrary, she's lapping up all my bravado as eagerly as I wish I could lathe my tongue over her, licking every drop of the sweet omega slick from her glistening folds.
I pull my hand out of my pants to search my bedside drawers for a bullet vibe.
"Need more, Winny," Gillian begs. Her and me both, I almost snort, but then I’m drawn back in by the sight of her again as her tentacle somehow seems to get wider now.
The slim tentacle I first told her to open herself with was maybe as wide as her fingers.
Now it’s more akin to her slender wrists.
She has this trick of varying the girth that has to feel phenomenal.
I don’t know how long she’s been fucking herself, but I’m still just as enraptured by the way her tentacle pulses thicker then thinner in waves as she thrusts into her pussy.
Where is my molt-cursed vibrator? I always keep it right here for moments like this, searching through an assortment of my shinies by touch like this is taking ages.
Gillian whimpers and I’m momentarily distracted from my search by Gillian pulling most of the way out and repositioning herself to take the tentacle at a different angle. Now I can see her suckers rippling along her skin as she thrusts.
Oh hell, I want to feel her inside me like that too. More slick drips from my pussy and my clit throbs with want at the sight of her tentacle coated in slick, and the sweet needy sounds she makes as she fucks back into herself.
The tentacle’s girth throbs in time with her pace as she rocks to meet each thrust with growing urgency.
Damn it, I want to reach through the phone and feel the way her muscular limbs pulse in my grip before she sinks all the way down on it.
I want to feel her hot slick coating my hands as I tease her. I want to be in the room with her.
My groping fingers finally find the vibe and I shove it into the cotton gusset of my panties so I can grind against it while I watch Gillian fight to hold back her orgasm.
Feathers, it’s intoxicating that she’s doing this for me.
Because I said so. It feels like the rush of diving off the block for my first lap on the day at the pool. An exhilarating world of potential.
“That’s it, my naughty princess,” I croon encouragement that makes her pink shade toward purple. At this point, I’m pretty sure this shade of pink has something to do with sexy and those shades of purple are happy. “Feels so good to show your dragon how much you can take, doesn’t it?”
“Tides. Yes. So good. Can’t—” Gillian groans, her whole body clenching as she tries to restrain herself. Her pace falters. She’s so damn close, I expect her to come, but she somehow holds herself back. “Can’t last much longer.”
“You’re so gorgeous like this, Gillian.” I’m in awe that she wants to obey me that much, why is that so damn hot? Doesn’t matter, it just is. “Don’t stop.”
“Winny, please. I can’t…” She picks her pace back up a notch though, belying her protests.
“Shh, you can. You can take a little more for me. You love it. Love making yourself wild, and I love watching you shine, treasure.”
"Winny, please? I need..." Gillian moans.
My name sounds so sweet on her lips, broken with the effort of teetering there at the brink of her orgasm. I can tell she's desperate for more, and that makes it so damn easy to play exactly the role she wants.
I draw out a few long heartbeats of silence, fingering myself as her grind against my vibrator, savoring this moment with her. This is nowhere near enough of her to sate me, but she’s more than earned this.
“You need to come for me, Gillian, I know. Come my sweet good girl.”
“Winny!” Gillian wails my name as she comes in a full-body orgasm that seems to roll over her for ages, her colors chase each other over her octopus skin in galaxies of pink and purple. I grind the vibe hard on just the right spot and get myself off as I babble her praises.
“Good girl, you’re amazing,” I say, since she’s been responding so well to praise so far. “You’re stunning like this, my crown jewel.”
Gillian hides her face at that one, and at some point the camera ends up facing the ceiling, but I keep murmuring sweet nothings to her, until the water in the tub stops sloshing around and I’m left to assume that she’s stopped shuddering through wave after wave of her release.
I wish I could have watched every moment, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t drop her phone in the water at least.
I don’t stop praising how gorgeously uninhibited she is as I fish the bullet vibe with it’s dying battery out of my panties and set it aside to deal with later.
I keep telling her, how good and strong and wonderful she is as I shuck off my soggy underwear and pull on a clean pair of loose sleep shorts that are easy to manage one-handed.
I settle back onto my bed as I expound on how treasured she is until she mutters, “I’m okay, you don’t have to keep saying all that nonsense.”
“Huh? I wasn’t saying nonsense. That was the best sex I’ve had in an age, thank you for sharing yourself with me, Gillian.”
Gillian snorts. “You can’t mean all that.”
“I do.”
“Oh.” She picks up the phones, her human face peering at me through several coils of her tentacles. “You really mean it?”
“Yep. I mean it. And I hope you’ll let me take you on a date. Next time, I want to show you how much I like it in person.”
“Who said I put out on the first date?” Gillian teases, her tentacles uncoiling to give me a better view of her.
“No one. Next time doesn’t have to be after our first date. Or our fiftieth. Whenever we’re both ready. But I do want to see you again,” I say, keeping my eyes on her face.
She’s still sexy as sin, but I wasn’t lying about wanting to get to know all of her.
If it takes dozens of dates before she’s comfortable inviting me home, I’m fine with that.
Besides, I’m getting the impression she wants me back, but she needs to know that she’s allowed to say no to me without repercussions.
I told her she didn’t owe me her life story, but I have a feeling I can guess parts of it already.
Parts that probably match up all too well with my own emotional scars.
“I’d like that.” Gillian says through a yawn. She looks about ready to doze off right there in the tub. I suppose that’s probably not as dangerous for an aquatic shifter, but still, time to wish her a good night.
“Perfect. You look ready to fall asleep, so I’ll message you in the morning to discuss details.
For what it’s worth, there’s no pressure about sex.
As much as I’d love to invite you back to my place after, I share a room with my sister, so logistics might be tricky.
” I grimace at the reminder that Briony is still my roommate, for all that she’s been working late at the diner most nights since she started her university classes in the fall.
She’s been dropping hints about moving out lately.
I should really move out of my moms’ place too, now that I’m as healed as I’m going to get. Maybe Clara still has an empty room in the other half of her duplex. I’ve been meaning to catch up with her, I should call her tomorrow and see. There’s no harm in asking.
Gillian grimaces. “Ugh. I was mostly joking, I think I’d like to do this again, in person. But I live with my sister too. Thankfully, we don’t share a room at least. Still makes the logistics a pain.”
“We’ll make it work, treasure. Put your phone away before you drown it and get yourself ready for bed.”
“Aw, you really do want to take care of me huh? My octopus won’t let me drown in a bathtub, oh fierce protector.”
“Hey, just checking, it never hurts to be sure. There’s no call for such rudeness, princess. Do I need to teach you manners?”
“Maybe you should, just to be sure.” Gillian bats her lashes at me and I choke on my laughter.
“Get to bed, treasure.” I shake my head at her antics. “Sweet dreams.”
“Yes, dragon.” Gillian blows me a cheeky kiss then hangs up and I stare at the frozen image of her on my phone until the screen turns off, and even then I stare at my own reflection, trying to figure out what that sappy, wistful expression on my face is.
When I realize I freeze with dread. Oh, heck no.
What am I doing, mooning after a crush? There’s a reason mangled is a synonym for crush.
Along with pulverize and destroy and all the things I swore off when my last foray into following my heart ended with my body more thoroughly broken than my heart.
After my ex, I swore I’d never take that risk again.
Falling in love is for people who haven’t had to scrape up the flattened remains of themselves from the landing.
Not that Dale was the one who hurt me. That’s the insidious thing about love, it’s easy to see what I want in people.
Dale said he was an orphaned avian shifter who was adopted by statics and wanted to connect with his culture by coming to Four Corners.
I believed him and I let my belief in that core lie mask all the smaller lies that should have sent me running long before my accident.
The whole thing, a staged fall during a romantic cliff-top picnic, was a recklessly stupid miscommunication.
He was supposed to know that avian shifters, like static birds, can’t eat avocados.
If he was really one of us, he’d never have put that on our sandwiches that day.
We wouldn’t have been in a rush to get back to the car to call for help after I ate the first bite.
Even then, the dash back to safety would have been alright if there wasn’t a sudden storm squall as we were leaving. The rocks were supposed to be dry. My airy sundress should have been easy to shed mid-air after a shift if the fabric wasn’t soaked.
My plan, such as it was, had been to surprise him with a new insight into his non-existent avian shifter heritage with a harmless staged fall from a vantage I’d leapt from safely with my siblings and cousins dozens of times.
But it all went awry when Dale tripped going back down the path before the tide was fully in.
I leapt after him and got him to safety, but couldn’t get my footing in time and shifted to try to catch myself.
Between the wind and my sodden clothing, I’m lucky I only shattered one of my wings when I hit the rocks on the wrong side of the cliffs.
Dale panicked when I went over the edge and left me there.
He’d already called the ambulance about the avocados, so he at least made sure they knew where to find me at the bottom of the cliffs, but he left me for dead and I swore I’d never fall like that for anyone ever again.
Except it’s been seven years and it’s lonely never letting anyone in.
I’ve watched my clutchmates find love and I can’t help wanting more than this.
I glance around the room I share with my university student sister and it chafes that I’m still stuck at this stage of my life where I’ve got old band posters taped to my walls in my moms’ apartment and no plans for more.
I’m not the same naive kid I was when I met Dale.
Or when I was healing from the wreckage of our relationship.
So maybe my stupid heart forgot the hardwon lessons of the past. Or maybe it’s time to figure out a new lesson to take from my past. It’s possible I’ve gone so far running from the possibility of being hurt the same way twice, that I’ve run right into a different danger.
Love is terrifying. Uprooting parts of myself for someone else is not happening. But Gillian, getting to know her, making some small changes so that there’s room to share my life with someone like her? That sounds manageable. The good type of scary even.
Gillian makes me want to see if I can find a way to trust again, because my only regret about letting her slip past my guard tonight is that I wasn’t with her in person.
I should try to forget this ever happened.
Forget her. But I keep coming back to wishing I could hold her through the afterglow.
Next time. Feathers, I really hope there’s a next time.
Soon. Gillian looked so damn sweet all fucked out and sleepy.