24. The Long Storm
TWENTY-FOUR
THE LONG STORM
Lukys
Rain soaks me, drenching me from head to tailtip.
Everything is damp, encumbered by liquid that will not stop falling from the sky.
The pads of my fingers are wrinkled, and my scales are soft.
My body is tense from the chill, and one of the only reliefs I have had these past few days is the environment’s check on my ardor.
The near-constant strain of stretching scale and skin around my bulge has not been hurting me as much.
But it has gotten harder to keep closed.
The rain is rare and when it does happen, it is seemingly endless. It is not my favorite, but I will endure it just to watch her.
Unfortunately, she has spent more time in the back of her ship than where I can see her. I have lost her smell in the wet murk, but I have lost all smells except for the moist reek of dirt and leaves. I crave to be near her, to have her next to me, so I may feel comforted by her presence.
I have not spoken to her since she invited me inside her ship. I still can not believe she did.
I wanted to take her. I wanted to close the distance between us and bury my face into her hair—except I did not.
I warred with my instincts and used the towel she gave me as a distraction for my hands, which longed to reach for her.
I am thankful she offered the spongy cloth to me, it had surprised me nearly as much as her inviting me into her space.
A female naga in courtship may offer the male of her affection a gift, and though the towel was not a gift, it was a kindness. I surmise it can only mean one thing.
She is less afraid of me. She cares about me. I have listened to Shelby’s advice and it is… working.
The rain turns to a drizzle that ebbs and flows with the wind. Swiping less water from my eyes than earlier, a dense fog forms around me. I have to move closer to the ship to continue seeing inside.
When Elena steps out of her room and faces my direction, my breathing stops.
Wearing short pants and a tight black strappy shirt, I have never seen so much of her body so clearly before.
Her curves are on display and so is her pale skin.
She turns away and walks to her washroom, disappearing into it.
A few minutes later she reappears and I unclench my hands.
My fingers twitch as she brushes her fingers through her hair and heads my way.
Her gaze takes in the rainy fog settling across the landscape.
Stopping at the middle table where she usually spends her days, she glances down at it.
Lifting her head, she squints as she looks around once more.
I drift forward until she sees me. She blinks, and shifts one of her shoulders back.
I stop in front of her window and watch as she visibly tenses. Her eyes drop down my body and my muscles go taut, anxious at her exploring me with them. I am different from her and I want her to like what she sees. I want her to find me strong.
Because I like what I see. She is small and delicate, and sad in a mesmerizingly ethereal way. She misses her sister, but I miss her every second she is out of my sight. I have missed her my entire life, never having stalked a more precious prey.
“Lukys?” she calls out, walking around the table toward me. “What is it?”
My gaze sweeps up and down her slightly curvy form, taking in her bare legs and arms. Moving nearer to the glass—wanting to be closer to her—the tension in my body grows upon imagining her just the way she is, almost entirely on display for me, but lying upon the hides of my nest. There, she is at ease, and there is no fear in her eyes. Instead, she is eager.
She does not appear afraid right now.
I tilt my head when her eyes drop to my bulge and stay there.
Pressing my hands to the glass, I look down to see my slit open and my prick emerge from my tail.
I strain but the scales are too loose to keep locked.
My tail immediately coils as I jerk my hand down to shield myself when a wave of unbelievable relief floods me.
I grab my stem as the rest of it appears and I flatten my lips, holding in the harsh hiss that wants to release.
As I gently squeeze my shaft and push my appendage back inside me, the knot at the center starts to ache viciously. At the same time, the strained skin tightens further as the muscles expand and the middle floods with seed.
My abdominal muscles flex as my hand stills midway. The rain sprinkles my stem with cold water, furthering my relief. I close my eyes, gritting back another moan as I spread the rainwater over me, letting my prick fully emerge, while accidentally making seed trickle out of my tip.
A hiss finally tears free.
I run my hand up and down my length as I stare at my prick, seeing it for the first time.
It is long and black with an egg-shaped knot, which is bigger at the bottom and smaller at the top.
It tapers slightly inward, its mushroom-shaped tip almost pointing toward my chest when my hand releases it.
Pleasure floods me as the muscles in my middle relax.
I squeeze and test the strength of my appendage. I am hard beyond belief.
My other hand slips down the glass as I slowly recall having an audience.
Elena’s eyes are wide, staring down at my stem.
I stiffen, waiting for her to flee back to her nest.
I fist my thick length with one hand while the other presses against the glass, reaching for her. As her eyes shift to mine, I watch as a red blush forms over her cheeks. Her gaze then drifts back down to my hand, her lips parting and her brow furrowing.
I look down to see what she sees, finding the long, black rod even bigger than before. I cup my knot and squeeze, deciding if she wants to view me then she can. I rise on my tail until I am towering above her and my middle is level with her face.
She takes a half step back then pauses, her eyes flicking up to mine. Straightening, she looks back down at my stem.
She is not afraid.
She is curious.
Pushing my middle slightly outward so she has as clear a view of me as possible, I run my hand back over my knot and handle it for her. I lean my upper half against the glass, groaning.
“It issss for you,” I rumble, aware I am not loud enough that she may hear me. “It has always been for you. I would never hurt you.” I continue to feel and handle myself, taking in the curve of her neck and the way her brown hair falls over her slender shoulders. What I would do to taste her…
Her chest expands as she inhales deeply, her tongue sneaking out from her mouth to lick her lips. She moves her gaze between me and my prick, her expression morphing from curious to… something else. The blush on her cheeks heightens.
The next time I run my hand down my length, she reaches out and touches the glass on the other side.
She jerks her hand back and slowly shakes her head and closes her eyes, temporarily covering her mouth with her hand.
Then she does something I do not expect…
She unbuttons the front of her shorts and pushes her fingers to the front crux of her legs. Her stomach sucks in and the blush on her cheeks spreads outward, covering the rest of her.
Sliding my hand over my stem faster, staring at the pale skin of her belly, pleasure floods me from within, tightening my appendage further.
Growling, I quicken my pace, eyeing her hand’s movements between her legs, not quite understanding the action but enjoying it, finding it mutual. When her head tilts back, it is then that I realize she is pleasuring herself.
I let go of myself and slam my hands against the glass when a fierce desire possesses me. “Let me in!”
She jumps and her hand slides out of her shorts. Her gaze slips over my arms and chest then to my middle. Her short pants are partially down her thighs and the scrap of black cloth she is wearing underneath reminds me of the one I found when I retrieved her belongings from her room weeks ago.
The smell upon it was from her source… I shudder thinking about it now. What I would do to smell her…
Instead of frightening her, she lowers to her knees, and her shorts bunch. She shyly looks up at me and leans back, pressing her fingertips to her crux once again. There is a spot there that is bringing her pleasure.
“Let me see,” I beg. Scratching at the wet glass with my claws while sliding down it partway so I may view her more clearly. I drop my right hand to clasp myself. “Let me in.” I continue to claw at the glass with my other hand.
Her lips part and she shakes her head no.
I slam my fist against the glass with a growl. She jerks again but goes back to touching herself when she sees me continuing to pleasure my knot. She opens her thighs wider but the black scrap under her shorts covers her delicate human areas. A single black cloth hides her source from me.
Gripping myself hard, seed trickles out of me in steady waves. It mixes with the rainwater and quickly washes away.
Her eyes hood and her fingers roll faster.
Rutting my clenched fist near to the point of pain, I barely stop from ramming my body against the barrier between us.
“Let me in!” I roar.
She drops her head back and shoves her hips into her hands. At the same time I knead my base under my knot and a surge of seed ejaculates from me. More seed erupts, spraying the dome, sluicing across it to mix with the rivulets coursing down. I shiver as her body shimmies and moves.
Wiping my seed off on my tail, I lean my head against the glass as her chest rises and falls rapidly on the other side, taking in her unkempt, partially undressed form.
She looks down at her hand between her thighs then up at me with fear, her lips parting and her eyes widening—this time for a different reason. She grabs her shorts, which have fallen to her feet, and slides her legs back through them, standing.
“That wasn’t—” I barely hear her. She takes a step back.
I straighten. “Do not go,” I command.
But she does not listen, instead, turning and fleeing into her room. I watch her leave with a frustrated growl, slamming my fist against the glass again.
After what just happened, will she ever let me near her again? She may fear me again.
What do I need to do to convince her to be my mate? I hiss and turn away, certain I will not see Elena for the rest of the day and annoyed I will have to wait some more.
How do I get her to trust me to touch her? To let me take care of her?
I freeze and shove my stem back inside my tail, closing my slit easily for the first time in weeks.
She’s searching for her sister.
I straighten and toss my hair back, an idea forming that will make me more than just convenient to Elena.
I need to find her sister.