Chapter 40
JAMIE
To call this place a ‘loft’ is the understatement of the century.
I assumed it would be an apartment, but it’s really a tiered estate that drapes like a jeweled necklace down a lush green hill.
Flower-studded bushes and scrubby trees lace through panels of glass and matte black steel.
I’ve completely lost track of what country we’re in. Somewhere in Europe, I think?
Morgan leads me inside. I thought I’d acclimated somewhat to all the extravagance, but this place leaves me wide-eyed and breathless again.
The design palette is black set off with deep matte greens and Art Deco accents in gold and glass. It feels classic and modern and timeless all at once—just like Morgan.
A sweeping chandelier of hammered gold panels arranged in tiers crowns the space, and the vaulted ceiling flows to a cylindrical chimney of dark-stained concrete draped with art. At its base, a hearth waits with fresh wood, ready to be lit.
The most stunning details are the touches of Morgan everywhere: a worn-in leather chesterfield couch next to an architectural light and a live-edge end table; a bar with a ribbed wood front and dark marble counter, lined with all the types of whiskey I’ve seen Morgan order while we’ve been out.
“This place is huge,” I murmur, stepping out into an expansive atrium lined with potted palms and ferns.
“Six beds, eight baths, five thousand square feet,” Morgan rattles off casually before turning to check my face.
I’m sure I look suitably impressed. “You could fit ten of my apartment in here.”
“Mhm.”
“Wait, how do you need more bathrooms than bedrooms?”
“Am I really going to invite a guest and not have an en suite for them?”
“When do you have five guests staying the night?”
“During the orgies, of course.”
My eyes go wide, and Morgan’s face is unreadable. Deadpan.
She laughs. I’m pretty sure she’s kidding. But she turns and continues before I can formulate a clarifying question.
Thick hand-tufted carpets pad the walkway of a wood-paneled hall, and I stop short when my eye catches the art on the wall.
It’s a hand-drawn topographical map of the estate, with a bird’s-eye view of the building. I’m about to ask who drew it when I see MH in the corner.
“You made this?” I ask down the hall.
Morgan pauses and turns back. “Yeah.”
I brush my fingers along the frame. “It’s beautiful.”
“Wait until you see it in three dimensions. C’mon, my favorite room is this way.”
Morgan leads me through an airlock into a lush forest. A water feature pours from a stack of rocks on one side, forming a small creek that weaves down into a pool on the other. Bright flashes of white, orange and red flick from the koi fish in the water.
I only realize we’re indoors because I spot a black frame beyond the leaves and the subtle glint of a glass ceiling. A beam of sunlight filters down to the center of the floor, falling on a set of teak chairs with a small matching table.
“This is gorgeous,” I say, drawing closer to the bright flowers dripping from the trees. “What type of—”
And then there’s a pair of slit-pupil eyes just behind the flowers, set into a dark face nearly as large as my head. Beyond that is a massive scaly body, dark black and glimmering iridescent.
“Holy—” I jump back and put Morgan between myself and the massive snake.
Morgan gives a full-bodied laugh, deep and ringing.
“Well, I’m glad you’re entertained,” I mutter.
“This is Kaa.” Morgan holds out a hand towards the giant snake. It flicks a pink, forked tongue at her and slithers from the tree, revealing a body as thick as my leg.
I take a big step back, but the snake is moving slowly and seems relaxed.
“She’s a reticulated python,” Morgan says. “Largest snake species in the world. By length, anyway. And Kaa is one of the longest, over twenty feet.”
The python flows over Morgan’s shoulders like living oil, pausing to flick its tongue at me before continuing down to dip into the pool, though she’s so long her mid-body remains on Morgan.
“Does she eat the fish?”
“They’re much too small for her,” Morgan says affectionately, running her hand down the reptile’s side.
“What does she eat?”
“My exes.”
She’s kidding, right? She has to be kidding.
Morgan sees my face go pale and laughs again. “Oh, you’re too easy to tease. Rabbits, chickens. A young goat when I want to spoil her. She eats once a month, so I make it here most times.”
“How long have you had her?” I venture a step closer.
“Since I was sixteen. So… twenty-two years or so?”
“Oh, wow. How long do they usually live?”
“Twenty five, thirty. But she’s still going strong. People coddle their snakes too much. A creature like Kaa needs space, challenges.”
Five minutes ago, I wasn’t aware that ‘coddling’ a snake could even be a thing, but I’ll take Morgan’s word for it.
Kaa lifts her head from the pool and sweeps it around towards Morgan again, lifting half her length with the strength of her own muscles.
Morgan crooks a finger at me. “Come here. Say ‘hi.’”
Morgan’s words make me braver, and I step closer, approaching as Kaa rests her chin on Morgan’s hand.
I take a deep breath, then gently slide my fingers down the snake’s neck, just behind her head.
Kaa’s scales are cool and smooth, refracting every color in the sunlight. I can see now that she’s not fully black—her face is a softer grey, and there’s a subtle pattern down her sides near her head.
“She’s beautiful.”
“My oldest friend,” Morgan says quietly.
“Do you spend a lot of time here?” I ask.
Morgan nods. “My home away from home. I would keep her back by headquarters, but… a property with space for her like this doesn’t exist there. And Kaa and I don’t compromise.”
Kaa flicks her tongue at me and approaches, pressing her nose under my hair and resting her weight on my shoulder. Only then do I realize just how heavy she is, because Morgan has been supporting her effortlessly.
Morgan sees me struggling and gently lifts Kaa’s weight from my shoulders, looping the snake back over her own.
The sight of this massive, deadly creature draped so easily from Morgan’s shoulders, and the quiet, easy affection between them… This place is like Eden, and Morgan is Lilith.
And she’s looking at me like I’m a pomegranate ready to pluck from the tree.
And it’s hot.
So this is why rich people love dangerous pets.
Morgan’s violet eyes shift towards me, bright in the sunlight.
“Oh, do you like this? I can smell it.”
I shuffle and bite my lip. “You’re showing off on purpose, aren’t you?”
“I may have made some… predictions.” Morgan runs her fingers down the snake’s glittering scales. “What if she coils you and I fuck you?”
My spine jolts. “That doesn’t seem safe…”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be.”
It takes every ounce of my self-control to not whimper.
“But I’m kidding, of course,” Mor says with a flash of her now-elongated fangs. Her pupils are slits again, and her lengthened ears rise from under her dark hair. “Because I don’t need to hold you down to take you right here.”
She dips her shoulder towards the pond, and Kaa understands the signal, slithering down into the water.
It’s a slow, luxuriant slide, and I watch every inch, my anticipation building until the very tip of Kaa’s tail slides through Morgan’s fingers.
Then she turns to me, and I freeze.
“Take your clothes off,” she demands.
For anyone else, I would get lost in my head. But Morgan’s words cut deep into my psyche, and it’s so easy to give in.
I reach down and find the edge of my sweater, and Morgan’s eyes follow my hands. There might be something sensual in how slowly I’m moving, and I wish it were intentional. But the air turns to molasses when Morgan has me in her gaze like that.
I peel off my sweater, my shirt sticking to it until I get the sweater over my head. Morgan’s eyes linger on the waist of my jeans as my shirt settles down.
I grab the hem of my shirt next.
Morgan’s eyes flash with hunger.
Nobody has ever looked at me like this before.
It’s intoxicating.
Her eyes trace the planes of my stomach as I pull my shirt off, and when I see her again, she’s breathing hard.
Her muscles tense with the effort of staying still.
The fact that she doesn’t have to hold back, that we both know I’d throw myself at her either way, that she’s doing it just to show she can, makes it all the more arousing.
My cock tightens.
I undo the button of my jeans, and Morgan’s nostrils flare. I pull down the fly, then leave it for a moment as I pry off my shoes. My jeans slide down and I kick them off, keeping my eyes on Morgan. Warm sunlight washes over my bare skin.
Only my briefs remain, and my cock throbs beneath them.
“Stop there,” Morgan says.
She puts her claws to the buttons of her blazer. The threads pop, one by one, loosening the fabric around her breasts until it falls open. She’s not wearing a bra.
I already know there’s nothing under her skirt.
Her smile bares her fangs as she watches my cock throb tighter in response. She shrugs off the blazer, letting it fall behind her, then unzips her skirt and slides it down over her hips.
I can’t breathe. I haven’t seen this form naked before, and it takes all my will to keep my eyes on hers.
“My tits are down here,” she purrs.
My eyes drop obediently, taking in her body. I drag my gaze across her breasts, down her hips. There’s something magical in the juxtaposition of hard lines and curves, softness rippling over strength.
Morgan rolls her shoulders, and her bones pop. Her body continues shifting, and she takes a step towards me, feet lengthening as she steps onto her toes, towering even higher above me.
She’s fantastic like this—primal and gorgeous.
My eyes go to her cock, throbbing out from between her legs.
“Come,” she says with a crook of her finger.
I obey, and she catches my throat in her clawed hand.
“Kneel.”
She pushes my head down, claws tightening in my hair. I’m already floating, high on her.
Her cock is right there, pink and thick, the knot still blending with the shaft.
Smoky musk surrounds me, and my mouth waters more than it ever has before.
There’s only one thing to do. I lean forward, running my tongue up her shaft, lifting my hands to grip her, burying her cock as deep in my throat as it’ll go.
“Oh, you know exactly where you belong,” Morgan purrs.
Her hips tense, driving her cock further down my throat. I’m deep enough in heat that my gag reflex is nowhere to be found, and the sensation of her filling my throat is everything I didn’t know I needed.
Hot drool overflows my mouth and runs down my chin, and I don’t care. My tongue slides along her length, tasting her knot.
I look up and find her face, and my eyes flutter.
“Fuck,” Morgan hisses. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to last long.”
The only thing that turns me on more than Morgan’s control is watching her lose it.
I moan around her cock, and she buries deeper until I can’t breathe. I work my tongue under her, begging for more.
“Jesus Christ, Jamie…”
She grabs my hair and pulls me back. I gasp in a breath, then she thrusts into my throat and yanks me down over her cock. I grip her thighs, clinging to keep myself upright, fingers roaming the hard planes of the muscles there.
Morgan’s already losing it, fucking my throat hard, knot swelling just beyond my lips. Her voice turns to a primal growl, and the harder I dig my fingers in, the louder she gets. Drool pours down my neck and chest as my body does everything it can to take her as deep as possible.
My lungs burn, but I don’t want air, I want her.
Her breath comes faster, harder, and my vision turns to stars. Her claws are so tight in my scalp that pain ripples down my spine—sweet, heady pain.
With a shuddering breath, her cum vein swells under my tongue, and her heat spills down my throat. I swallow with every pulse, drinking of her, until every void is perfectly filled.
I want to be here forever.