Chapter Five
Arielle
“No?!”
Sure enough, he slides all of his fingers out and sucks them dry like they’re turkey legs at the town fair. I glance out the curtain, shocked that no one in the front row is watching us.
“Fret not. I’m not through with you.”
“Thank the goddess,” I huff.
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I kept you from eating.” His hand disappears below the table and I hear a snap. I start to pull up the table cloth but his authoritative tone stops me in my tracks. “Eyes up here.”
I obey. Something thick and warm prods at my entrance. It’s smooth as stone and larger than the three fingers he’d stretched me with. He uses it to slather my own juices all over my pussy, then starts to ease it inside.
“Grogoth!” I bite out through clenched teeth. “It’s too big!”
“Shh, little bird. You’ll cause a scene.” His voice is laced with dark humor as he tilts up my chin. Thousands of tempests churn in his gaze, all waiting to devour me. “You can do this. Let my cock inside.”
“Your cock?! Oh, goddess!” I wriggle against the giant thing between my legs, suddenly unable to keep still. I need it, now!
“Deep breaths, hummingbird.”
I make a mental note to ask about the nickname thing once I’m capable of speech.
All of my focus goes into stilling my hips and willing my pussy to relax.
Thanks to so much yoga, my kegal muscles listen to my demand, letting the whopping stone cock wedge its way into my hole.
He works it in and out, burrowing deeper into my body inch by inch.
With my body more relaxed, it doesn’t seem so outrageous, but still the biggest I’ve had.
Once fully sheathed, Grogoth stops moving. He shivers ever so slightly.
“You can still feel it?” I don’t wait for a response. I reach down and lightly stroke the end of the appendage. It rounds out on the bottom like a plug. He rumbles a low growl, proof he only appears unaffected. I laugh. “How do you remain so still?”
He turns toward the food and offers me a fried hydra ball dipped in cherry cream. The burst of flavor, succulent and creamy, takes my mind from the huge stone dildo stretching me to my limit.
“I’ve spent centuries being still, and years denying to be bewitched by you.” His cock jerks inside of me and I realize I’ve been idly stroking the base. I moan around a bite of cherry, a little drip escaping down my chin. Grogoth leans in and licks it away. “I can wait an hour longer.”
“That’s great but—ooh,” I moan as his hand disappears, playfully pressing his detached cock like a button. “I’m not sure I can.”
His laughter is so rich and assuaging, I can’t help but laugh with him. Our fiery gaze feels like a lash of fire-laced mage whips, like we know something that everyone else in the building doesn't. Feeling brave, I lean forward to grab another bite.
The rolling of my hips presses the base of his cock on the bench, giving me another taste of what it will be like to finally fuck my gardener. I repeat the motion for the hell of it, moaning as I bring another fried ball to my lips.
“You may—uunff—have to feed m-me.”
“Your body will appreciate this preparation when it has to take me later.”
“You mean, you have. . . More cocks?”
Instead of answering, he takes my hand and guides it below the table, where a colossal bulge is tucked into his waistband. It feels even bigger than the one currently taking residence in my cunt.
“How many?”
“As many as my lady wishes.”
Oh, fuck. “And do they all, you know, finish?”
“A specific question,” he replies with a slow smirk. “The answer is yes.”
“We’d better get to eating. I’m about to cum all over this one already.”
I reach for a plate feverishly, ready to shovel food into my mouth. I’m not prepared when the savory flavor stops me in my tracks, so delicious I forget about my hurry. I pause and regard the next bite with more curiosity.
“What did you order? This is divine.”
“Griffin tarte tatin, a delicacy in Fyre. I know you’re an adventurous eater, my little chef. I’ve wanted to try The Saffron Valley’s version of this for a long time. With you at my table, the timing feels right.”
I swoon as I take another bite, leaning heavily against Grogoth as the texture melts on my tongue. “It’s incredible. Have you had it elsewhere?”
“My maker was a Fyran. Though he created me for the sole purpose of selling me into servitude, he was a decent man. Some of his culture rubbed off on me.”
“Do you miss him? Or the other you mentioned from your past, the king?”
Grogoth picks up a juicy cube of stone indri and feeds it to me. I lick every last drop from his thumb, feeling the cock lodged inside me have a visceral reaction, though his stoic mask reveals nothing.
“Though they were good to me, I don’t miss them individually. I suppose I miss the companionship that their presence had in my life.”
“You don’t have anyone like that now?”
“No.”
My heart winces at the loneliness he must feel, and I chide myself for not speaking to him sooner. Had I only pushed my insecurities aside and revealed my crush, maybe we would be celebrating this Bliss Day as a bonafide couple.
“And you? Have you comradeship?”
“No.” I slide my hand under the table to pet his thigh, flashing him a coy smile. “But I’m hoping for something like that in the future.”
The rumble that wracks through him feels like an earthquake under my palm. His cock makes itself well-known inside me, trembling like it wants badly to release.
Grogoth guides my hand down his thigh to grip the stiff length in his trousers, past his waistband to grip the hard stone itself.
I touch it gingerly at first, but at its surprising girth, I try to fit my hand around it.
I can, but barely. He leans close, the scent of mulch and lavender permeating the air.
His breath is a warm promise on my temple.
“I will give you everything you’ve ever desired, and when you run out of desires, we’ll scour the world for more. ”
A shiver races down my spine. A subtle cough comes from the curtain. I realize I’m basically laying over Grogoth’s lap at this point and jump back like a teenager caught by their parents, but Grogoth doesn’t even twitch. Nor does he allow my hand to leave his lap.
“How’s everything tasting?”
“Very good, thank you,” I respond with a rush. A drop of pre-cum kisses my thumb, my hand reflexively tightening. Through it all, the only sign Grogoth is as turned on as I am is the pulsating cock jammed up my pussy.
“Please bring boxes and bill me for dinner. It has been lovely, as always,” Grogoth intoned. “Send my regards to Chef Lennae.”
“Of course, sir.”
As the curtains close behind Damion, I glare at Grogoth, who has the gall to laugh.
“This is your idea of funny, is it?” I grip his length harder and pump my fist, sending more precum trickling over my fingers. Grogoth’s head tips back and I relish that he’s finally struggling to conceal his desire. “Taste your own medicine, gardener.”
“Mmm. You don’t understand,” His tone is rough like gravel scraping on gravel. “I don’t care if they watch. Everyone in this restaurant would be lucky to see all of the many, many ways I will have you.”
He supplants me from the booth, planting me firmly on top of him.
Straddling his hips, I know my dress is riding up in the back and can only hope my plugged-up pussy isn’t on full display.
With handfuls of my ass, he grinds my swollen clit against his coarse linen tunic and down over his cock.
I collapse against him, my heart hammering at the thought of all the possible wandering eyes.
“And do you know what I think, my sweet hummingbird?”
“Hmmmm?”
The cock inside me slides out and back in. He toys with it for a moment, shallowly thrusting it with his hand until I’m mewling and scratching his shoulders like Whiskers does to my mat. There’s a pause, then a snap, and something swipes through the liquid spilling down my thighs.
“I think,” he goads, nipping my earlobe. “I think you wouldn't mind that either, little Miss Yoga Pants.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“You like to be watched.” A stone object I assume by the size must be a finger prods at my asshole. “Don’t deny it.”
“I won’t.”
The cool, smooth digit probes the first inch of my sphincter.
It works its way inside and locks into place.
We pause that way, my breathing coming raggedly now.
I peer at him from the crook of his shoulder and the smile he gives me is radiant, more than mere lust. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead, sending droplets of yearning through veins.
There’s a rustle behind me. The curtain. My breath catches, but his hand on my lower back remains steady. Above the table, maybe it looks like we’re cuddling. It is Bliss Day, after all. He addresses our server as he pets my hair.
“Thank you, Damion.”
“Of course, sir. Happy Bliss Day to you both.”
Spurred on by the close call, I roll my hips, driving his cock and finger deeper inside my holes, inadvertently bumping over his new cock, still tucked away.
“F-fuck me, please, Grogoth.”
I’ve realized I truly don’t care that we’re in public. I don’t care that the server seems to have an insane amount of reasons to enter Grogoth’s sectioned-off booth. I need his cock, now.
“Don’t worry. I will fuck you wherever you wish, in due time. But not our first.” He gracefully dislodges us from the table, easily carrying my weight in one arm while boxing up the dinner in the other. He looks at me almost bashfully. “That is, if I may accompany you home.”
I burst into giggles, which shatter into moans at the way the appendages inside me respond to my laughter. “Y-yes. I need more of your cocks inside me, asap. You have no choice but to accompany me.”
“Good. But know this,” his tone hardens. “I will not be soft with you purely because it’s our first time. I’ve wanted you too long to hold back.”