Chapter 18 #2
“I want you, Jasmine,” he groaned against my lips.
“I have never wanted like this before…” The heartfelt confession made me feel empowered, a strength settling deep in my belly.
Ekkire wasn’t taking; he wasn’t even asking, as if he didn’t know what to ask for.
So I took charge. I pressed a hand against his shoulder, urging him to lie back, which he did with heavy eyes and a flick of his tongue.
His lips were wet from our kiss, his eyes glowing. “Like this?” he asked huskily.
I nodded, still on my knees next to him and trapped in several loops of his tail.
With a small push, they loosened, and then I could pull my shirt over my head.
The sports bra followed with the hiss of the front zipper, and his eyes locked onto my breasts as they were freed.
Heat so thick blazed from his eyes, I could almost feel the touch of his gaze.
“Jasmine…” he groaned, his body undulating on the fur, but his back staying firmly planted against them, though it clearly took effort to stay there.
“Stay still, let me strip,” I told him, smiling as I lifted my hips enough to shimmy out of my leggings.
The leather outer pair was already gone, so that was all it took to strip me down to my panties.
He stared at me like I was the most divine thing he’d ever seen, and he didn’t even need words to express it.
I felt it—felt how much he desired me, admired me.
Lowering my eyes, I tracked the way tension coiled through his body.
The way he clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck corded, his abs tight, and his hands digging into the furs.
He wasn’t wearing his belt, so I had an unrestricted view of his cock as it began to slide from his slit, jutting proudly toward the sky.
Bright emerald, with a glow of gold in veins crawling up the shaft.
The split tip writhed, both ends widening, then twining back together.
I clenched, an ache lancing through my core when I couldn’t help but imagine what that would feel like inside me.
Good, I was sure of it, even if he was really big.
According to Vera’s very comprehensive instructions, that was less of a problem than it looked, and sure enough, when I touched the tip with a finger, he felt slick.
Oily. Another tidbit reminded me not to taste him, because that supposedly would make me go into some kind of heat.
It was tempting, though—very tempting—because he smelled mouthwateringly good.
“Ah, stars, Jasmine… Should I not… What do I…” He could not even finish a sentence, his body twitching, that thick cock kicking at the brush of my finger.
That made me bold. Surprising myself, I rose just enough to slip my panties off, and then I flung my leg over his hip.
It was a little messy as I tried to find the right spot to sit, to touch, but that didn’t matter.
Everything I did seemed to excite him, his coils twisting and curling but not quite reaching to grab me, which clearly took momentous effort on his part.
Good guy that he was, he was trying his hardest to let me lead, to let me make the choices.
How did he know that was exactly what I needed?
Slick with my own desire, I tested my folds with a finger and found them as wet as his bifurcated tip had been.
“I need to take this very slow,” I said to him, certain his big size was going to stretch me to the limit.
He nodded so wildly his horn nicked his throat, but he seemed completely unaware of the small trickle of blood.
I rose to my knees, shifted closer, and circled my fingers around his cock.
It was hot to the touch, throbbing in my fist, and his hiss was loud.
“Slow,” I repeated, rubbing myself against the intriguing tips. That was too much for him; his hands finally came off the furs to grab me. Only as far as my hips, the rough texture of his scale-covered hands pressing against my sensitive skin.
“Sorry,” he muttered, his eyes wild and helpless, like he hadn’t meant to do that.
His cock was also misbehaving, not letting me rub myself against him, but twisting in my grip.
The tips were like a pair of strong, agile fingers.
They sought out my heat, pressed against my folds, and my body shook as they stroked my clit.
Fuck, that felt good! A rush of wetness dripped from my core in response, and the tips twisted back, as if they sensed it.
The first push inside me felt perfect, those tips twisting, narrower than a normal cock.
It was going fast, not slow, but it felt perfect anyway.
Lined up, nothing was stopping him from pushing in, but he fought to keep his hips planted on the furs for agonizing seconds.
“Jasmine, you are so warm, so soft,” he raved.
I widened my stance, knees shifting around his hips on the furs, and he sank in a bit more.
No pain, no stretch, just more slick heat as he sank in, pulling himself inside me with those writhing tips.
It felt weird, then it felt good—stroking nerves that set my blood on fire.
He did it again when I twitched around him, groaning in pleasure, and then again.
His strange cock smoothed the way into my passage with each coiling, writhing move.
I lost my concentration then, my legs trembling from the effort of holding myself up above him.
He had me, though, his hands growing firm on my hips, holding me in place.
His hips moved too, pressing up, then pulling back out instinctively.
Each shove of those hips, each thrust, brought him deeper inside me.
Push—an inch—pull, then push again, and another inch would slip in.
I did not think I could take all of him; he was too long, but then he changed the angle.
With a rush, more filled me, too much. A burn from the stretch shivered through me, but it was quickly replaced with a warm rush of heat.
I glanced down, certain that meant he’d filled me with all he had, and was shocked to discover that still a fistful more remained.
I shook my head, but now he was the one in charge, and he nodded.
“Yes,” he hissed, “you will. You can. I know it.” He was right, but I shook as he proved it to me.
Pleasure bordering on pain with his effort to thrust deeper.
Then, suddenly, my clit pressed against his pelvis, and pleasure so bright it ached blinded me.
The orgasm was quick as lightning, and my core clenched around him so tightly he briefly couldn’t move.
Seconds ticked by, and as I shook through the orgasm, so did he.
A wet rush of heat, more wetness. His expression was so fierce, his fangs dug furrows into his bottom lip.
When he began moving again, it was slowly but with a rush of wetness and the sweet, salty scent of his seed.
I knew he’d come with me, but he wasn’t done.
I nearly was, too tired to hold myself up even with the aid of his hands.
He dragged me against his chest, hugged me tight.
“Ekkire,” I said, not sure what I was even asking, just that I needed him.
He kissed me, and then he hushed me when I opened my mouth to say more.
“Not yet. Let me seed you, Jasmine. Let me seed you, please?” he begged, his gruffness gone, his expression tight and desperate.
Pleasure skated up my spine, made my core clench around him.
Yes, yes, I wanted it too. I wanted all the crazy pleasure he had to offer, a counterpoint to the pain of the past, proof I could do this right.
Create something beautiful with another being.
He pinned me to him, my breasts squashed against his chest but not painfully, scales rubbing with delicious friction against my nipples.
His tail coiled, the tip rubbing down my spine, then curved around my ass, and the pressure as he pushed me further onto him was intense.
I shattered again, but this time he fucked me through it, his thrusts rough but precise.
He kept going until a third crest rose, sinking deep as I came that time and, like he’d promised, seeding me until I felt full.
Pressure mounted, the last orgasm bright in its intensity.
His seed rushed out of him, more than the first time, and gushed down his shaft and out of me.
There was a lot—so much it felt crazy—but Vera had warned me about that too.
“Oh,” I sighed, too weak to do anything but observe as the pleasure slowly began to fade.
We stuck together in the mess, his cock still deep inside me, the writhing tip gently stroking me somewhere no one but him could ever reach.
“That was lovely,” I murmured, and then I giggled at how silly that sounded, but it was true. That was amazing.
“It was,” Ekkire agreed quietly. “Very lovely, like you.” Then he added, “Thaaank yhous,” in UAR common, proving he still remembered those words.
I melted a little more for him. Wow, just wow.
I really, really liked this guy, so much.
When he cleaned us with a cloth not much later, then tucked me into his coils in the furs with tender hands, I knew I didn’t want to leave his side. Fate, it existed.