Chapter 18
eighteen
CIELO
Iwake to the sound of Dante in the other room. He is moaning loudly, which alarms me because I know that he is alone.
I sit up, my body feeling slightly different because of the clear liquid the old, wise human gave me. But as I sit there and blink back awake, I realize that I feel clear-headed.
Perhaps that fire I consumed helped cleanse me.
I do not have time to think on it because Dante moans again. But it is not in pain, not quite. It is in pleasure.
Something is wrong, and there’s a scent in the air I can’t seem to resist. It creates a warmth in my chest I vaguely recognize, but I don’t have time to analyze it.
Not when Dante needs me.
I move out into the other room and see Dante on the couch, writhing, his hand down his pants, his eyes slightly wild. I inhale sharply at the sight of him, and when I do, I smell his desire. It is coming off him in waves that threaten to sink under my skin and send me into a breeding rut.
It makes my mouth water, my claws extending from my fingertips.
“Cielo,” he breathes when he catches sight of me.
“Oh god. I don’t know what’s happening…” He arches his hips up and shucks his pants down his legs.
They get caught on his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
He shuttles his hand up and down his cock, unthinking, acting solely on the instinct of a Vyastil in heat. “Something in those herbs…”
I rush toward him, plucking the bag off the ground and peering inside. When I take a whiff, I realize what he’s taken. Zitha, yes, but also ruenox and oyen—the cum herb and the one used for breeding.
I did not know you could mix these, but based on the way Dante is panting, it has worked too well.
I stare at his cock. It is small and leaking cum, and my mouth waters profusely at the sight of it, the scent of it. It makes me hungry. I want to lean down and ease his pain, but I cannot.
They have forbidden it. It is my punishment.
Dante rolls onto his side, and his hand slides down his ass, two fingers pushing against his hole.
“I need lube. I need your cock. Oh god, I need something more than this. I’m going to die.”
I stare at him, unable to move. Dante is unhappy, he is hurting, aching.
He says he is going to die, and I’m afraid he might mean this.
I know that for a Vyastil during their breeding time, it is dangerous if they go into heat alone.
I do not know what it will do to a human if they remain untouched.
I cannot risk my Dante. I want him to live as long as he can.
And more than that, I want to take care of him just like he has taken care of me.
“Please, Cielo. Please. If you can’t suck me, at least fuck me…the lube…your cock…”
The way his words push out of his mouth, as if he is desperate, makes me unable to resist him.
I peel my scarf away from my body and allow my tail to slide into my slit, wetting the tip.
My cock is hard, pushing out from my body, but it is not meant for this.
I will do what I can to help Dante without breaking the rules.
As much as I can, at least.
I move Dante’s hand from his ass and push the tip of my tail into his hole. It’s open, pulsing. The feeling of it clenching around my tail makes a growl erupt from me. Something deep and feral. Something dangerous.
I need to feel that hole clench around my cock, to expel my seed into him.
I push my tail in further, and he gasps, his legs twitching against me. As I fuck my tail into him, I peel the pants from his legs, baring him to me as his fist strokes his cock rough and hard.
“I need to come. Oh god. I need to—” he gasps and groans, but nothing happens. His cock remains hard and dripping. He has not released.
“I can’t. I can’t!” His eyes are filled with tears, and I see one slip down his cheek. “I need you…Cielo.” My name on his lips is my undoing. “Please. Please. It’s not enough.”
I want to desperately, but still my mouth says, “Ruuuulzzz.”
“Fuck the rules. Suck me. Please. I need to cum, or I may die. Cielo!”
He is crying now, his hand still working, his cock hard and angry. It is swollen, dark purple and red. It looks like it hurts.
I cannot be the reason for his suffering. Even if it means that I will suffer the consequences. I must help him. He is mine. He belongs to me. It is my responsibility to get him through this.
I hesitate only a moment longer before falling to my knees and taking him into my mouth.
The taste of him explodes over my tongue, overwhelming my senses, and my vision goes hazy.
I feel a pressure in my chest—a possessive need to put fangs into his skin, but I keep my lips wrapped around them so I do not hurt his most delicate place.
He cries out as I pull him into the back of my throat, my tongue twisting around his hard length. The moment I do, he explodes, his cum hitting my tongue. It is familiar. Far too familiar. Something presses at the corner of my mind, but I’m too consumed by the taste of him to look further.
I am losing control at Dante’s taste. At the sensation it creates inside of me. I am claiming him, and while that could lead to dangerous things for both him and me, in this moment, I cannot care.
It drives me wild, and I do not stop. My hands lift his hips up, my mouth forming a suction around him, and he bucks up, fucking into me. His hands curl around my ears, holding onto me tightly, and I don’t let go. He cries out, and I swallow as he comes again.
Something inside of me starts to shift, and I don’t understand it, though I don’t stop. I’m unable to, not when he tastes this good.
My head bobs, my tongue wringing out each orgasm from him, my tail still thrusting up into him. He is writhing beneath me, his body flushing the most glorious pink, like a sunset on Erethar.
I cannot look away.
I slide my hand up his chest and feel his heart beating. He is fragile, and so very much mine.
He erupts again, his back arching up off the couch, his legs wrapped around my head. I feel him squeezing my face with his thighs. I love it.
I love this.
I know now why they forbid those they deem unworthy from partaking in this ritual.
It is incredible. I can only imagine how Vyastil at the clinic must struggle not to lose their grip on who they are when a human spills on their tongues.
If it is always like this, this ecstasy that cannot be described in words, it must ruin them knowing they cannot have more.
“I want you to fuck me,” he cries out, thrusting my face down on his cock. “Put your cock in me. Please.”
“I need it. Need you.” The sound of those words is in my head, but they do not come from me, and I know I am not imagining them.
I peer up at him, but he is not looking at me. His eyes are closed, his mouth too, but his throat is making glorious moans.
In this moment, I do not want to stop sucking. I want to continue to consume him because when I stop, I must stop forever. This is just a remedy for a mistake. It is not something I can do again.
But he is begging, my name a prayer on his lips.
I pull off him, his cock wet from my mouth, and I crawl up his lithe body. His legs fall from my shoulders, and he spreads them, trembling hands pulling them into his chest. I see it then, my tail inside of him. It is the most delicious sight.
I wish to replace it with my cock.
“Please. I’m…I’m desperate,” he sobs.
My mind fills with the sight of myself rutting into him, filling him with my seed as if I am watching it happen in real time.
I know what he wants, but part of me wonders if it will really fit. But I do know that Everest and Rathyn have managed with oyen, and this is what Dante has consumed, so I pull out of him, and my hard length pushes further from my slit, dripping and pulsing, the ridges angry and raised.
They ache to be squeezed, to be rubbed.
Hovering, I stare down at him. His eyes are open, and his hand reaches out and cups my cheek.
“Please, Cielo,” he moans. “Don’t make me beg anymore.”
I cannot deny him. I place my wet cockhead at his entrance and thrust my hips forward, gently, softly, not wanting to hurt him, but his body opens for me. His hole widens, swallowing the entirety of me, allowing me all the way in.
My claws are out now, digging into the couch. It will be destroyed soon, but it cannot be helped. I am drunk on his cum, feral from the scent of my Dante. I feel as if I am going into a rut.
He gasps when I am fully seated inside of him, my body wanting to thrust even further, to expand and breed him, but I do not. He is a human. He has no eggs.
So instead, I let my body move, his hands holding onto my shoulders as I fuck into him. His face below me is painted with pleasure, his groans and cries a song to my ears.
He comes again, his cock pulsing that delicious cum on his stomach. But I do not stop to swallow it up. I will partake when he is fully satisfied.
I continue to thrust into him, taking him harder, faster, until the couch is pounding against the wall.
He comes again. And again. And again. His abdomen and chest are covered in his spill. I lean down and lick up what I can and then let my lips skate up his neck to the small pulse there. I suck on it, feeling his body tense, and his cock erupts once more.
The urge to sink my teeth into his flesh is almost impossible to resist, but I keep my fangs to myself and breathe through it, and eventually the feeling passes.
“Dante,” I say when I have control, and he groans, which makes me fuck into him harder.
“Cielo. Yes. Yes.”
I feel him clench around me, and something deep and possessive moves through me. My fangs skate over his skin again. I want to mark him as mine. I can feel his pleasure as if it is my own. I can feel each pass of my cock through his sensitive walls.
He moans loudly, and then I see it clearly as I did before—my teeth marks etched in his skin. But I did not imagine it this time. Those visions are coming from him.