Love So Hard
Chapter twenty-seven
Cya
As July turned to August, Cya found themself happier than they’d been in… well, maybe ever? The upcoming semester didn’t feel as looming or oppressive as previous ones had, and their everyday life felt fuller and more real.
They spent their afternoons honing their HSL with Jasmyn; building practical skills with Hemersyn, like cooking, laundry, and cleaning; or in their studio, crafting unique works of art that filled them with more pride than any school grade or social accolade ever had.
Their evenings were filled with family dinners, dance parties in the kitchen while they all cleaned up the dishes, and movies or games where Dex would usually win and proceed to gloat infuriatingly.
Night brought intimate laughter shared under cotton sheets and touches that made their body sing with pleasure and heat that had nothing to do with the summer season.
If they had their way, Cya would have spent most of their time coiled between Dex’s parted thighs, gagging on his cock until they cried, and he probably would have let them.
He tended to give them what they wanted when they begged hard enough, but they did their best not to take advantage.
They wanted to respect his boundaries in the same way he consistently honored theirs.
After his second offer to go down on them was rejected, Dex didn’t bring it up again. He accepted it with an easy, “Okay. If you ever change your mind, let me know.”
He never tried to touch them himself, but Cya no longer covered themself when they got themself off with their hands or rattle.
He’d pinch their nipples, watching over their shoulder as he told them how beautiful they sounded when they came.
Or when they were above him, his knees hitched around their hips as they ground down on his knot just right, he’d tug on the chain clinking between their breasts and whisper dirty words of praise.
He even spit in their mouth once—at their request, of course—right as their orgasm peaked, and they’d nearly blacked out from delirious pleasure.
It wasn’t always so carnal, of course. Dex loved taking his time to cover them in sweet kisses, tasting every inch of skin and scale as he slowly brought them to gentle orgasm.
They’d cradle his head as he moaned into their neck, their hand stroking his shaft just the way he taught them until he sighed his pleasure.
Then they’d snuggle close and whisper secrets in the shadows.
“I don’t think my parents love me,” Cya said, forehead pressed to Dex’s as they hid under the blankets. “Or if they do, it’s only the idea of me, not the real me. They don’t even know the real me enough to love me.”
His eyes glinted in the dark, reflective and eerie. “That’s because they’re selfish and blind, not because you’re not worth loving.”
They nodded, even if they were still learning to believe it. “I’m finally starting to love myself. Maybe that can be enough.”
“My dad didn’t love us either,” he said as he traced the shape of their lips with a fingertip. “Or if he did, he always loved himself more. I tried so hard to make him stay, to be enough. He was never a great parent, but I loved him, ’cause he was my dad, you know?”
“You were always enough, Dex. Always,” they insisted, cupping his face and kissing him softly. “He was the one who failed to see it.”
“You think so?” he asked, and he sounded so small and scared, like maybe there was a piece of that little boy inside him, still waiting for his father to come home.
“I don’t think so; I know so, and I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”
The way he kissed them was sharp and painful, but they accepted every cut and sting. Then the kisses softened, a cooling balm soothing every bruise. Burrowing into their arms, he fit his head under their chin and sighed into their chest.
“We can love each other enough to make up for all of them,” he said matter-of-factly, like it was the simplest, easiest thing.
Smiling into his scalp, they nodded. “Okay, darling. We can do that.”
Halfway through August, school resumed, and Cya would sit in the bleachers and watch Dex practice before class.
After he showered, they’d walk through campus together with his friends, hands twined between their bodies or with one of his arms hooked around their shoulders.
They’d kiss goodbye when they parted for classes, then kiss hello when they reunited.
It was cringe and embarrassing and amazing.
Outside of Dex and his family, Cya invested in other friendships.
They had sleepovers with Yve where they’d gossip about boys while they ate ice cream right out of the carton and painted each other’s nails.
They joined their coworkers “party” in a human game called Dungeons and Dragons, where they had to roleplay a magical character and complete complicated quests.
Dex had an absolute field day with the whole thing. Cya… did not. They were rather relieved when their character drowned in a swamp halfway through, and they could join Zef as the Mantodea taught them how to use a sewing machine to create art out of fabric instead of metal.
Since their parents had decided to prolong their Paris trip by a few weeks, Cya and Dex had the house mostly to themselves. Which meant they could continue to enthusiastically fuck in any room they wanted, as loudly as they wanted, without fear of getting found out.
Well, they waited until Hemersyn left for the day, of course, before engaging in noisy, messy sex. Cya did have manners, after all.
Rocks clattered across the work bench as Dex’s golden tail flicked. Cya had him sat on the table, his feet hooked at the ankles behind their backside as they ground against him. His shorts were on the floor, his tank top rucked up to his armpits so they could bury their face between his furry pecs.
Leaning back on his hands, he groaned as they swiveled their hips, the column of his cock sliding along their slick, narrow slit. His knot was firming at his base, and they rubbed what was left of their hemipenes against it hard enough to make their nerves sing.
“I’m gonna come,” they gasped into his fur, and he slid a hand between their bodies to tug on the chain connecting their piercings.
The sharp pleasure-pain zapped down their spine, and they came with a keening cry.
He rubbed the back of their neck and murmured words of adoration as they trembled with aftershocks, their tail muscles struggling to keep them upright when all they wanted to do was twist and coil until they had their lover trapped in a mating knot.
Of course, a mate coil was impossible since Dex wasn’t a Sypent, but Cya usually did their best to entangle him quite completely during sex.
When they were horizontal, at least. Since they currently needed their tail to keep them upright, they settled for wrapping their arms around his torso and embracing him tightly as they floated in bliss.
“Afternoon delight,” Dex snickered in their ear, and they snorted.
“Don’t pretend that’s not why you stopped by,” they snarked back as they trailed kisses up his sternum to his neck. They rubbed their cheek against his throat, and he shuddered at the scent-marking. “It’s a good thing Hemersyn’s running errands.”
Sitting up, he framed their face in his hands and tipped their head back so he could kiss them deeply. “Better finish this up fast then. Don’t want him skinning me alive for defiling you in your workshop.”
“I think he’s fully aware of the defilement,” they said as he licked a stripe from their pulse point back to their mouth. “But, yes, let’s finish up.”
“On your knees, your majesty,” he growled, and Cya shivered at the command.
“I don’t have knees,” they sassed, moaning when he scraped his sharp canines against the delicate skin of their throat.
“Always the spoiled brat.”
He fisted their hair, bringing another whimpered groan from them, then he added just enough pressure to feel demanding without actually forcing them lower. They went without too much of a fight.
In their not-so-humble opinion, they were getting very skilled at blowjobs.
They still choked, but it wasn’t because they were unpracticed; it was because they wanted to choke.
Sure, the taboo of being called a needy slut while he jacked off on their face made them wetter than any smut novel ever had, but they loved the unadulterated freedom of being imperfect, of feeling used and ruined by someone who loved them, someone who respected them, someone who’d tell them how beautiful they were covered in jizz, then gently clean them up after.
As Dex caught his breath, he slumped back on the work bench, petting Cya’s hair as they licked his cock clean.
They gave the head a wet, sucking kiss, before they settled comfortably on the coil of their tail beneath them.
Sated and loose, he grinned down at them, and they smiled back as he swiped a thumb over their bottom lip.
“Good job, highness,” he purred, and they nuzzled into his hand, gasping when his fingers loosely gripped their throat under their jaw.
He didn’t squeeze, of course, but the perceived threat still made them shudder as he angled their head back so he could admire the mess he’d made of their neck and chest. “Gotta clean you up, now.”
Clumsily sliding off the table and onto the floor before them, he practically tackled them, smothering them with kisses and licks as they shrieked with laughter.
He stripped off his shirt and wiped his spunk off their breasts, then he sucked a love bite into their pulse point.
With a sigh, they rubbed the back of his head and cinched their tail around his waist and down one leg.
“Come skinny dip with me,” he rumbled into their neck.
“Dex Triever, you scoundrel,” they sniffed pompously, squealing when he blew a wet raspberry into their skin. “We can’t skinny dip! Hemersyn will be back at some point, and just because he bathed me as a child doesn’t mean I want him seeing me naked now.”