Chapter 10 #3
Deep touch. Firm touch. In my hand I took her other nipple, trying to mimic the pressures, the tugging and the stroking.
She let out a soft noise of wonder. The serpents held me close, cradling me.
Her wings drooped, slowly, as if she’d forgotten to hold them.
My own nipples ached and my cunt throbbed in time with her heartbeat under my lips.
I wanted more. So much more. But she lay, lost in the wonder, and I could never leave her there.
Not alone. I switched breasts and she let out another noise that was something like gratitude.
I imagined those sensations filling her up, building the need within her the way it was building within me.
That liquid heat. In my mouth her nipple rolled, impossibly hard and somehow still velvet.
Beneath my fingers I could feel the wetness my mouth had left on her other breast.
And then her hips flexed a little, beneath me. She made a needy noise.
Pleasure shot through me like lightning, searing me. I used my teeth against her and she whimpered, arching. Hungry again.
Soon, she’d be starving.
My free hand I planted in the middle of her chest, holding her down, and I continued to feast.
Her fingers tightened in my hair. She lifted her hips again, restlessly. I kept on enjoying those hard nipples, the round, delightful weight of those breasts. She’d given herself to me, hadn’t she? And I wanted to enjoy.
She moaned, tossing her head. Some of the snakes fell away, but they were back a moment later.
Her second hand was on my shoulder, pressing me down just a little.
Her hips lifted and my contact with the ground beneath was broken as she arched completely.
I stopped my feast to rub my cheek against the curve of her breast, reveling in the feel of it.
Her breath caught and held as I did. Her hand on my shoulder flexed just enough to give me a taste of her strength.
She moaned as I found her nipple, but it was a noise of frustration, too. Beside my ear a snake hissed.
Shocked, I laughed, and she pressed down with her hand on my shoulder. “I need you,” she said, the words breathless. “Cassandra, please.” The reverence in the words, the desperation, made my head swim.
“My mouth?” I asked her, squeezing the breast beneath my hand still to feel the way it moved beneath my palm. “My fingers?”
“Everything,” she said, the word half a sob. “Anything. More.”
I fit between her thighs like they’d been crafted to house me and breathed in the intimate scent of her as much a promise as desire.
I pressed kisses to where her navel should’ve been, trailing down to the apex of her legs.
She trembled as I traced the seam of her body with my fingertips, learning the way she’d been crafted, the shape of her lips and the position of her clit.
When I reached the wet, hungry entrance to her body she lifted her hips again, carrying me with her.
I traced the edges of her, committing the sensation to memory.
Velvet, warm and wet and welcoming. I didn’t dip inside yet, though, moving my desire-slick fingers back up, spreading the protective folds of her body to expose her swollen clit, waiting.
She had a pulse here, too. It begged for me to taste it.
I lowered my mouth and feasted.
My greed had nothing to do with her responses, not at first. She shook and gasped and panted, but that was background knowledge to the feel of that impossibly soft skin, the taste of her, the way she offered me everything.
Every stroke of my tongue made my own cunt ache more, made my own flesh throb with joy and promise.
If she could suck my finger, then she could suck my clit, and I knew it, even if she didn’t.
But right then I didn’t want that. I didn’t want anything except her, writhing, begging, saying my name like it was I who’d brought her to life and I who’d sustain her.
I wanted to commit the taste of her, the impossibly glorious texture, to memory.
I wanted to smell her on my hands and feel the slickness of her on my lips for the rest of my life.
I wanted the squeeze of her thighs and the trembling of her hips.
The razor edges of my hunger sated, I began to recognize her patterns, the way she’d lift and hold her body, the way her hand would tighten in my hair or loosen a little.
I devoured still, but I did it mindfully, driving her onward, aching to feel the release ripple through her.
I moved with the demands of her body, mapping them in my mind, exploring the nuances and the wonders of her.
Her heart would start and stop for me. And mine for her.
“Cassandra,” she said, and in her lips my name was a plea, a prayer, and a promise all at once.
Our future spread out before us, as open to me as her body.
Joy, and love. Hope, and belonging. Safety, and validation.
“Cassandra.” The word was offered up, shakily, tangled up in a moan and anchored in devotion.
Answering her need, I didn’t change the rhythmic combination of licking, sucking pressure against her clit, but I did find the entrance to her body and slip two fingers inside her. I found the magical little spot not too deep inside where her cunt felt soft and giving and pressed into it.
She stilled again, her breath halting entirely, her whole body liquid, and I drank deep.
Only a few moments later the hands that had almost fallen away were scooping my hair up desperately, cradling me to her insistently.
Every breath was ragged. Every tremor started inside of her.
The undulations of her hips were helpless, driven by the rhythm I’d identified long ago.
I rode them, locked to her, feeling the answering ripples through my own body as if my own muscles and sinew were connected to her, responding to her.
“Cassandra,” she breathed, desperately, as if I was the only thing holding her to this plane.
A moment later I felt the ripples that started around my fingers, the clenching, grasping hunger of her body as she reached her peak and milked every moment of joy.
Her body shook beneath me, her hands clutching.
The ripples pulsed in her clit and shuddered through the thighs that remained clamped around me.
They ran through my body too, the waves rocking through me a moment after hers, a response, not a mirror.
I struggled to breathe, maintaining the rhythm like it was all that kept either of us alive.
When they tapered off, I rested my forehead on her thigh, pressing the weight of my palm down through her still-throbbing cunt. I wished I could see her expression. I settled for holding her lovingly while she came back to herself.
“I don’t…” her breath shook. “I don’t think the nest I’m building is strong enough for us.”
My heart turned over. She was building a nest? For us? Did that mean… “We can always use the floor, and then just sleep in the nest,” I offered, pulling my thoughts back before I lost myself in the tangle of hope and possibilities.
“That means I’d have to be mindful of something other than you,” she said, still short of breath.
Smiling, I pressed a kiss to her thigh and gently began to shift my weight away from her cunt, no longer throbbing so aggressively against me.
She still made a noise akin to pain when I withdrew.
Her hand in my hair tugged me up gently and I went, needing no second invitation.
The feathers of her wings beneath my knees were strange.
She lay back, her hair a green mass around her, the serpents barely stirring at all until I was halfway up her body.
My hair was released. The weight of it unfurling like a banner was strange. The way she took my hips was not.
I let her guide me, the ache in my body offset by the lightness of my heart as she nuzzled into my cunt much as I’d done to hers. She guided my weight and serpents slithered over my thighs as if to hold me in place.
Her mouth was slow in its exploration, lingering, savoring.
I settled my hands in my hair and focused on the sensations.
She’d hum in pleasure sometimes, and the noise shot up through my core.
She’d press herself closer and I’d feel the flat curve of her fangs, not the tearing tips, like a scaffold she worked around.
The tiny flutter of anxiety I felt from having those deadly teeth reliant on my total compliance was exciting in a way I’d never expected.
Heat swept through me, sparkling and bright.
I didn’t let my muscles tense, just absorbed it all, drinking it in, filling myself up with it.
I moved it inside me with my breath and felt the first flutters of my response.
I didn’t flex or grind. Beneath me she made a noise of approval and I was rewarded by one hand running up my back, claws scratching out hints of promise.
Happy for her to make good on that, I let myself bask in her attention. It was, after all, the only safe choice.