chapter thirty-one #3
“Suck on it.” He tilted his head at me.
“Excuse me?”
“My tongue, suck on it.” He grinned wide. “Remember when you bit me?”
“Oh, I remember perfectly well.” I glared.
“Well, how else will you get a taste of relief? I could also just spit in your?—”
“Not necessary. Let us get this over with.”
This was an odd method. I would rather he just spit in a cup.
He leaned over me, sticking his long tongue out of his mouth, the two split ends curled at the bottom and hanging above my lips.
I felt an embarrassed flush appear across my face as I opened my mouth.
As I went up on my toes to take his tongue into my mouth, he jerked it up out of my reach.
“You rat, are you just pulling my leg?” I hit his chest.
“No, I just wanted to see you like that a little longer.” A handsome smirk graced his face. He offered his tongue again.
I reluctantly leaned up and took the tip of it into my mouth. I sucked on it gently, which prompted a sound from Silas.
Did he just whimper?
I studied his reaction through my lashes, his attention dedicated only to me.
He held me closer and leaned down, allowing me to take in more.
Our tongues mingled with each other restlessly. I sucked on his again, biting it softly when it ventured too close to the back of my throat.
He looked flustered at the motions.
I hated that he was right about his saliva being the miracle cure for migraines. I could feel the throbbing dull as the minutes passed. As my mind cleared, I wondered more about his tender reaction.
Could it be that their mouths were more sensitive because it was the only place that held an antidote to their own poison? This discovery was prompting a rather salacious curiosity.
I pulled away, and his tongue slipped out of my mouth, returning from whence it came.
“Come. I want to see something.” I pulled on his arm.
Leading him into the cozy glow of the living room, I stopped in front of the mantle. It was crackling with a small fire, lighting our figures in the night.
“Down,” I demanded, pointing at the floor.
“I don’t think so,” he said stubbornly.
I leaned in, playing with the edge of his shirt. “Do you expect me to climb you? Get on your knees, Silas.”
His eyes widened at my demand as he slowly complied. The expression on his face was full of intrigue. This view of him was nice. He sat on his knees in front of me, at my disposal.
I ran my thumb over his bottom lip before tugging at the corner of his mouth. I brought my face closer, leaning over him. “Open,” I breathed.
He leaned up to kiss me, cupping my hand on his cheek with his own. It did not take a skilled interpreter to see how much he wanted this, how hard he was restraining himself as our lips met.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of his mouth. His tongue cradled mine, asking for more, to feel more, to taste more.
As our kiss deepened, I put my arms around his neck, lowering myself onto his lap as he sat back on his heels.
Reluctance was apparent between the pleasure and the restraint he so obediently practiced. It brought me joy knowing I could make a creature like him mewl for me, beg for me without a single word.
He parted our lips again to look up at me. I knew he wanted to say something but struggled to find the words. He leaned up to continue the kiss, but I pushed against his chest.
“I want something.”
“Anything,” he breathed, his hands sliding up my back.
“I want to see more.”
He studied me. “Does that mean we can try something else? Since you are so keen on observation tonight?” He’d already slipped the top half of my dress off my torso.
Considering his words, I was unsure what else he would want to try. I did not believe I had seen anything past his forearms. Imagining him without his clothing did give me some excitement. I would not mind seeing more, for educational reasons, of course.
Even when I remembered how rough he was with me in the past, I wondered what he would be like when he used that aggression in more agreeable ways.
I realized he could probably pick up on my arousal when he licked his lips. His hand cupped my face and then moved to the back of my neck, jerking me forward so that I lay on top of him. His lips were greedy, pulling and biting at mine.
Grinding my hips into his, I gasped. I could feel that he was already stiff. Judging from the bulge, my body had not known pain until the day he decided to use that thing on me.
My hands wandered to his shirt, unbuttoning it down the front.
He looked up at me as he began to leave marks on my neck, along my throat, and then between my breasts.
Marking was a common theme with him, it seemed.
The shirt soon slipped from his form. I ran my hands over him, reading his defined muscles like braille, trailing the unexplored territory.
A deep, low clicking sound escaped him. At this point, I was unsure if this nonverbal communication was one of endearment or predation.
Maybe it was just from any sort of stimulus that caused arousal, like how some cat species use prusten communication to chuff at each other or how bats chatter in the night.
I lowered myself between his legs on the floor. As I began to undo his trousers, he grabbed my hand. Instead of letting me continue, he just stared at me. Why did he look so worried?
“You’ve denied me every step of the way. Are you sure you want to do that?” He looked at my expression, carefully analyzing it.
“I’m curious,” I whispered. “What are you afraid of?”
He took a shaky breath and traced a finger over my brow before cupping my face. “I’m afraid that I won’t stop.”
Not knowing if the admission was genuine, I could at least appreciate some display of vulnerability from him. The thought of someone not being able to hold back their carnal craving for me made my heart lurch to my throat.
I ignored him and leaned down, pulling away his trousers and working at his underwear next.
When I pulled out his cock, it practically rushed to meet me. I could see why he was nervous.
The hesitation was not due to size and girth.
In those respects, he was beyond what I could have imagined.
It was remarkable really. I was afraid to put a number on it because admittedly I had not seen anything so…
large . It only made sense that he was not human.
It would be the only explanation for the display before me.
I bit my lip and looked up at him.
He was watching me still. He was waiting for a reaction—anything from me. Was it possible that he cared what I thought?
I turned my attention back down to his length and left lingering touches there with the tips of my fingers. It was inhuman in stature. I was impressed, to say the least, though I thought it would be more like torture to put that thing anywhere near a vagina.
I leaned down and pressed my lips to the head, flattening my tongue along the slit. He shuttered, and I could see him blink out of his trance.
My hand moved along the velvety length, and I ran my tongue down the side. A wetness had already dripped from his tip to meet my taste buds. The taste mixed in my mouth as I licked, finally putting the tip in my mouth.
He grunted, and his head fell to the side, watching me work in the warm light. The sounds he made were enough for me to feel that tightening in the bottom of my stomach. He pushed deeper into my mouth, touching the back of my throat, and almost prompted a gag.
He flinched at the sound before relaxing again.
Why is he so flighty?
I pulled him out of my mouth, letting the spit pool at the head. I used it to slick down the rest of the length. Upon inspection, I saw something off. I knew he saw the moment I noticed it because he physically tensed.
Along the underside of his cock, close to the base, I could see a pattern. It looked like three V shapes stacked upon each other, measuring a half-inch long each.
Much like his fangs, he had folded spines under the base of his cock. They were almost perfectly matched to his skin, except the black gradient at the sharp point, like small porcupine quills. They folded flush to his skin. I could not even feel them when touching him.
“What’s this?” I ran my finger over them.
“I wasn’t going to.” He flinched again.
“What are they?”
“I don’t use them.” He looked away. “I did not want you to think I would use them?—”
“What are they for?” I asked once more. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.” My eyes narrowed at him.
“They’re for…” he mumbled, something I could not hear.
“I didn’t quite get that.”
“ Mating. ” He kept his eyes averted. This was the first time I’d seen him blush .
“Are you telling me that you have spines?” A wicked smirk crossed my face. “Like a cat?”
“I don’t know.” He glared at me. “They have always just been there .”
I had to admit, this new feature made me wonder what else his body did when he mated .
It was common for some mammals to possess spines like these to make sure their mates did not escape.
The spines would hook into the flesh of their counterparts.
Now I was quite curious about what adaptations the females of his species had to tolerate such cruelty.
Mating. The word was sending my brain deep into a primal gutter.
I returned to my former position, wrapping my mouth around his length.
He gasped and grabbed a fistful of my hair, but this time, he pulled my head off.
“Why doesn’t this bother you?” he asked, concern twisting his sharp features. His breathing had picked up, and his chest rose and fell quickly.
“You’re fascinating.” I beamed, slipping his member back into my mouth.
His grip on my hair loosened as he let out another soft groan, savoring every sensation. Even with his tip at the back of my throat, it was still only halfway in.
I tried to go deeper, moving my head up and down.
I used my tongue to explore the smooth, salty surface. I lifted my eyes to him, but he was not looking. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back. His hips matched my movements as I swallowed him.