Chapter 20
ELOWEN
“Let me help you another way,” Theron says. He leans back against the blooming trellis, and opens his trousers. I bite my lip at what I see.
Oh, merciful Goddess, it’s huge.
His cock springs free, long and thick and so very male.
The broad head flares, already glistening with a clear drop of fluid at the slit.
Heavy balls hang below, drawn tight against his body.
The tattoos on his hips and thighs seem to writhe in the shadows from the trellis, and his curved horns catch the sunlight, making him look like some dark god come to life.
I stare, mouth going dry, a fresh wave of heat washing over me. I’ve never seen a male’s cock up close before. It's…intimidating.
Theron watches me watching him, his silver eyes darkening.
“Too much for you, little one?” he asks softly, his voice a low rumble. His hands move to tuck himself away again.
“Wait,” I blurt, putting a trembling hand on his wrist. My fingers look so small against his arm. “Please, I’ve never…never seen a male shaft before.” I whisper the words, cheeks burning. “Just…let me get used to it.”
He stills, a pleased growl vibrating in his chest.
“Take your time, baby. Touch me. Learn me.”
Heart pounding, I wrap my hand around the base. My fingers can’t quite meet around his girth. The heat of him sears my palm–velvet skin over iron-hard muscle.
Theron gives a low groan, hips twitching slightly.
“That’s right, baby—take as much time as you need to get to know me,” he rumbles.
I stroke him slowly at first, up and down the endless length, marveling at the texture. So hard, yet the skin is soft as rose petals. I like the feel of him in my hand. I slide my fingers lower, exploring the heavy balls below—full and warm and they tighten at my touch.
“Gentle there, little one,” he murmurs, breath hitching. “That’s a delicate area. Roll them softly… yes, fuck, just like that. Good girl.”
Emboldened, I trace the thick shaft upward, circling the flared ridge of the head. There's a clear drop beading at the slit.
“Is…is that your seed?” I ask breathlessly.
“No, baby—that’s just precum,” he tells me, eyes half-lidded. “My body’s way to make everything nice and slippery so I can fit my cock in a tight little pussy like yours. But I won’t do that unless you beg me.” He strokes my hair gently. “You’re safe with me.”
I lick my lips, the ache between my thighs turning desperate.
“I think…I think I want to taste it.”
“Go ahead.” He makes a lazy motion with one hand. “Help yourself, little one.”
Leaning down, I rub my cheek against his shaft first—it amazes me how rigid he is beneath that baby-soft skin. He’s scorching hot–far warmer than any human, maybe because there’s Drake fire pulsing through him.
His scent is stronger here. It envelops me—warm, spicy, and masculine, like smoked cinnamon and earth after the rain. It draws me in like a moth to flame, making my mouth water and my pussy clench.
Tentatively, I put out my tongue and lick the droplet from the slit. It bursts on my taste buds, and I feel a rush of surprise. It’s spicy-sweet, like cinnamon candy.
But even better than the flavor is the effect that one little taste has on me. The terrible burning thirst and need I’ve been feeling for hours now dips a little. Not much but I can feel it–a tiny bit of relief.
I need more.
“Oh, I like it!” I say, looking up at him, eyes wide. “Can I…could I have some more?”
“You can have as much as you want,” he growls, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Do you want me to stroke myself until I come for you, or do you want to suck me?”
Heat floods my face, shame warring with craving.
“I want to suck you,” I whisper. “If…if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, baby. Take what you need,” he tells me, voice rough with hunger.
I lean down again, heart racing, and swirl my tongue tentatively around the broad head. Salty-sweet precum coats my taste buds–more cinnamon bliss.
I moan softly, lips parting wider to take the head inside. My mouth stretches around him—he’s so thick, my jaw is already aching, but the taste, the heat, the scent of it makes me hungry for more.
“Fuck…feels so good,” Theron groans, fingers threading gently into my hair. He’s not pushing or pulling–just stroking. “Suck me slow… use that sweet little tongue… just like that, baby.”
I feel a shiver of pleasure run down my spine–he likes it. He likes what I’m doing.
Emboldened, I lean forward, taking more of him—cheeks hollowing as I suck. My hand strokes what won’t fit, twisting at the base. He’s so hot against my tongue, pulsing against my lips. I hum around him, savoring the flavor as more of the delicious cinnamon-spice precum teases my tongue.
“Gods, yes,” he rumbles. “Look at you, taking my cock in that sweet little mouth… swirl your tongue under the head—fuck, right there. You’re a natural, baby… feels so good.”
His dirty words send heat gushing between my thighs. I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks, bobbing faster—the sounds of my sucking filling the garden air. My free hand cups his heavy balls, rolling them gently as he taught me, feeling them tighten.
“Fuck, good girl… that’s right, that’s good.” He strokes my hair lovingly, thumb tracing my stretched lips. “Gods, you’re so beautiful. Love to watch you sucking me.”
I moan softly around his cock. His precum is flowing freely now and it’s making me feel so much better, but the thirst is still there–I still need more.
His groans deepen, his hand tightening in my hair—not forcing, just encouraging.
“Almost there, sweetheart. I’m about to come. If you don’t want me to shoot my seed down your sweet little throat, you need to pull off now.”
There’s no way I’m pulling off–I need his seed–need it desperately. I lean forward, sucking harder, trying to take more of him.
His shaft swells, getting even thicker and I hear him groan. At last, with a guttural roar the thick shaft filling my mouth erupts.
“Gods, baby–yes…swallow for me…good girl,” he groans.
Hot, thick spurts flood my mouth—endless pulses of cinnamon spice coating my tongue.
I suck and swallow greedily, throat working, taking as much as I can.
Some dribbles down my chin, but I don’t stop, moaning as the seed hits my belly like balm.
The curse’s clawing hunger eases, distress melting into warm satisfaction.
I love this —love his taste, rich, spicy, perfect–and the feeling of him coming in my mouth.
Finally, he stills, panting.
I suck the last salty/sweet drops from his shaft and pull off, looking up at him.
His eyes glow with pleasure as he strokes my hair.
“Thank you,” I say. “I feel so much better now.”
“I’m glad.” He nods. “Did you get enough, baby? Or do you need more?” he asks huskily, thumb swiping the last little bit of seed from my chin.
I bite my lower lip, my craving surging anew.
“Maybe…maybe just a little more.”
He nods again, stroking my cheek.
“Take as much as you need. My kind can come over and over if we need to—it’s a gift from my Drake.”
I bend my head to take him deep in my mouth again, savoring his renewed hardness, when a shocked voice exclaims behind us:
“Merciful Goddess! Whatever are you doing, Elowen?”