Chapter 51
Avice
What could Avice say?
She was tired of being patient.
Exhausted from being careful.
It was time for her to choose something for herself.
Trewoofe’s actions: his victory in the fight, his protectiveness, his devotion, his apology, and his claiming of her as his soul-bound had made her burn with desire for him.
It had all come down to this moment, here, with him.
Magic from his touch and the flowered ridge thrummed up her spine, making her sigil twitch with pleasure.
She understood that he did not have the ability to switch into his more compatible body at that moment – that his protectiveness of her prohibited it even – but that made her want him even more.
She tingled with excitement at the prospect of experiencing more intimate acts with him in his Knucker shape.
So, when Trewoofe blinked in surprise at her admission, she felt emboldened. It was time for her to make her own choices, to seek out the things she wished to experience. If he was willing and wanting, she could think of no one better – or safer – to experience her desires with.
“Everywhere?” he repeated.
Avice gripped one of the thicker, corded veins in his flushed crest. She stroked, eliciting a deep whimper and another buck of his hips.
She peeked down at his engorged length again, her mouth-watering, and watched the thick beads of seed as they dripped onto the wildflowers.
There was no way he would fit into her right now, but there were other things they could do together.
“Everywhere,” she asserted, her voice thick with desire.
Trewoofe leant back and stood on his hind legs. He shifted his forepaws so they were braced on the cave wall on either side of the ridge. His talons dug into the salted granite for balance, and he lowered his head to her.
“Show me,” Trewoofe purred.
His hot breath buffeted her, setting her skin aflame.
“Show you what?”
“Everywhere.”
Avice’s heart felt like it might drum right out of her chest as she stood. Would he like her bare? Would he think she was beautiful? What if he did not like what he saw?
As though he could sense her apprehension, he rubbed the very tip of his snout against her cheek. “Do not shy away from me. I have longed to see you.”
Avice smiled tenderly at him, and he swished his tail in response, the tip of it splashing into the tidal pool. His encouragement invigorated her. She slipped her dress and chemise down to her broad hips, leaving them there while she fiddled with the breast band.
Trewoofe watched eagerly as his crest fluttered and he rubbed himself along the flowered cave wall.
Her fingers fumbled with the knot on the band and he growled impatiently.
She felt a flush of power then, that just seeing her was enough to make a Sidhe King weak.
She gulped and finally pulled the band away, exposing her breasts to the warm cave air.
The Knucker shifted his gaze, his pupils following the slight bounce of them as she tossed the band aside. “They are so pretty.” He flicked his tongue, the very tip of a fork dipping between her breasts, fiddling with her pendant and key, before retracting it again. “I love how soft they are.”
Avice flushed. “Thank you, Lord.”
“What do you call these?” he asked, a fork brushing the pebbled centre of a breast.
“Nipples,” she replied headily.
Trewoofe’s tongue retreated and he thrusted again. “Ah, so this is how you will feed my Knuckerlings,” he rumbled approvingly.
Avice clenched her thighs together, her arousal doubling just from his statement.
She did not know that words could be used in such a way – to excite – and she was soaked from it.
The thought of him filling her, overflowing her, putting his young in her belly…
It was nearly enough to fling her over the edge of climax.
“Yes,” she whimpered as he licked from one breast to another, slicking her with his saliva.
Trewoofe drew back his tongue, his eyes bright in the gloom. “Will you show me the rest of you?”
Avice nodded. She wiggled her dress and chemise off the rest of the way, kicking them off to the side.
She did not know what to do with her hands, so she reached forward to run her fingers over the tip of his snout, squashing her breasts against his smooth scales.
Trewoofe purred at that, but lightly pushed her back, his pupils contracting as he studied her.
He puffed at the black curls between the top of her thighs, making her giggle.
“Will you show me what is between your legs?” he asked, greedily bucking his hips again as his crest coloured more vividly.
“I can…” she whispered, trying to calm her galloping heart. Get it together. This is what you dreamt. This is what you imagined in the garden. What you want is being offered to you.
“Little witch?” Trewoofe’s eyes shone with concern. “We can stop if you are not sure.”
“No!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls. He tilted his head in question. “What I mean is, I am sure. I am just a little nervous.”
Her Knucker ran his tongue up her breast, inked collar bone, neck, and brushed against her ear. “Of course, take your time.”
Avice quivered from his caress and beamed up at him.
She took a deep breath and sat on the lush carpet of flowers.
They tickled her rear, but were oh-so-soft against her skin, even more comfortable than the furs on her pallet.
She was hot – too hot – as she lay back on them, her knees still pressed tightly together.
She pulled up the bravery from deep down inside of her, opened her thighs to Trewoofe, and showed him everything.
He was silent.
Only the sound of his pants, thrusting, and the distant crash of waves reached her ears. She gripped the flowers, waiting for him to say something, anything. Tears welled in her eyes, and just as she was about to snap her legs closed, he spoke.
“You are just as beautiful in between your legs as everywhere else,” he purred, his hot breath on her centre, making her tremble.
Avice blushed from his praise – the words made her tingle – and she pushed herself up on her elbows. She giggled at the sight of him peering down his muzzle at her, nearly going cross-eyed from his inspection.
Trewoofe’s gaze flicked up from her centre to her face, and then down again. “I did not know you had a flower there. There is even a bud.” He snuffed at her. “You smell delicious.”
More arousal seeped from her. She was well and truly soaked, her dark curls damp with her sticky excitement.
Trewoofe had inadvertently discovered more words that brought her pleasure, and the result was her squirming towards him.
Avice blushed at her own boldness. She could not believe she was so wantonly presenting herself to her Knucker in a cave by the sea.
Before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. “My King, I have an offering for you,” she teased.
“I like it…” He tickled his tongue on her ankle. He slid it up the new pearlescent scar on her leg before slipping it back into this mouth. “…when you call me that.”
Trewoofe pulled himself further up, talons cracking into the cave wall, so he loomed high above her. She laid flat on her back so she could stare up at him. He was like an ancient god above her, his horns holding up the sky while his fiery eyes warmed the earth.
The Well King began.
His long tongue reached down as he watched her.
He trailed the forks down her cheek and throat, making her prickle with anticipation.
He left a trail of his healing saliva in his wake, making her skin sing.
Avice watched him rock back and forth. He must have been thrusting his cock as he explored her.
The thought of it made her fingers curl into the flowers.
The idea that she had that impact on him flushed her with power again.
“Does that feel good?” she whispered to him in the dark. “Pleasuring yourself while you lick me?”
Trewoofe growled low in his chest, unable to reply as his tongue was otherwise occupied.
He dipped to the back of her neck, tracing the tattooed whorls at her nape, and followed the trail of inked leaves on her collar bones.
Avice had not known she could feel so sensitive everywhere as he soaked her with his saliva.
Each lap added to the pleasure thrumming within her, mounting with each movement of his tongue.
He dipped down into her cleavage, fiddling with her pendant and key, making them chime together in a honeyed note.
He snapped his tongue back and thrusted into the flowers as he stared down at her. Just as Avice was about to protest his retreat, he opened his mouth with more words to excite her.
“Never take that off,” Trewoofe panted, his body writhing as he pleasured himself to her image.
She held up the key. “What, this?” she teased.
“No,” he growled playfully, brushing his tongue over her pendant. “This. It is the first of many gifts I will give you.”
Trewoofe explored her breasts next – he seemed very preoccupied with them – bouncing and rolling them with his tongue, sending delicious twitches of pleasure through her as she murmured his name.
He lavished each nipple with a prehensile fork, tweaking and exploring until Avice let out a wanton whimper and rolled her hips.
His attentions had set a deep ache between her legs.
Her centre was throbbing and she craved his touch.
“Lord,” she moaned. “Please, I need it here.”
She spread her thighs further and bucked up, showing him where she wanted him.
Trewoofe was still rocking – he had not stopped in all the time he had ravished her – and he let out a loud rumble.
He slowly slid off her breasts, licked the iridescent scar on her arm, lapped his way down her soft belly, and smeared her with his saliva.
He teased a hip, then another, as she bucked and whined again.
Avice gripped the flowers in frustration, she needed the friction, and she needed it now. She wanted it so badly it hurt.