Chapter 24 #2
He offered her the sensation of his scales, of the little spikes that dotted him, as he came closer to her.
He wanted to hike her skirts higher and bury his snout against her bare pussy, but there was too much separating them.
Too many layers to contend with. Some of this must go, though.
If he couldn’t have her naked just yet, not until he proved himself, then he’d get as close as he could.
He let that inner thigh be abraded by his skin, and he shuddered at the warmth of her brushing over him.
“Carwyn,” he called, his voice a little huskier than he intended. “Sit up for me.”
She obediently complied, even though her brows lowered in subtle rebellion. It brought their faces closer, and Kier shoved the side of his head and then neck against her jaw and cheek as he reached behind her.
Then he grabbed the back of her dress and dragged his claws downwards until they were level with her hips. The sound of material ripping was like music to his ears, cathartic and soulful.
“H-hey!”
She gasped when he shoved back, grabbed the front of it, and yanked it off her arms and body. When it came out from under her arse, she fell back against the bedding with a quiet oomph, two perfect legs flailing in different directions.
“I liked that dress,” she grumbled with a purse of her lips. “And it was my last one.”
Oh, Kier knew that. And now she’ll be forced to wear all the ones I’ve given her. His lips pulled back into a devious, fanged grin. Because she will fucking wear them.
He wanted to see her flitting around in the garments he’d given her, each one picked from an array of choices. Each one gaining a deeper meaning he wasn’t quite sure of.
Carwyn crossed her arms over her torso, her thin underclothing concealing little.
The shoulder straps were small, leaving her arms bare.
The cut was low, dipping between lush breasts he’d only gotten a single, teasing peek of before.
With the skirt bundled around the tops of her thighs, right near her pussy, this was the closest he’d seen her unclothed.
But he was a greedy male, and he situated himself between her parted thighs and curled the tip of a claw into the low neckline.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned darkly.
She would have to learn he was a mischievous pest, so he drew it down until the intact material released a perky breast. He placed a hand upon the bedding near her shoulder to keep himself upright as he cupped it with the other.
Her chest pushed into his palm, and he drew his thumb sideways across a taut, rosy-brown nipple.
“See?” he muttered, flicking the hard peak back and forth. “Plenty of ways to touch.”
Her gaze drew down to where he gently teased her, and her heart quickened at the sight. Her skin warmed, her breaths became short and shallow, and she grew enraptured by the motion. The tips of his claws dimpled her malleable flesh, but he was careful not to prick and draw blood.
So soft. He groaned when his cock twitched and thickened, and the yearning to rub every inch of his much harder, firmer, and rougher body against hers simmered in his scaled flesh. His groin sparked with need.
I should’ve put my mouth around her nipples, he lamented, thinking back to the previous day.
Before he’d known about her abilities and the restrictions.
Rather than trying to get his cock free to slam it to the hilt inside her, he should’ve dropped to his knees.
I could’ve tasted her pussy against my damn tongue.
A quiet, needy growl bubbled up his throat as he lowered his head towards a pearled nipple.
He wanted to lick it, maybe even give that peak a nip with his fangs.
Instead, he nuzzled the thing like a pathetic male wrought with yearning.
He pulled away so he could part his fangs and let his breath cascade over it, giving it warmth, teasing it with the soothing, encapsulating heat he could’ve provided it.
Then he moved to the other, already pointed beneath her thin clothing, and lashed it with his tongue. He tasted cotton and the essence of her scent, but nothing else. Carwyn shuddered beneath him as she pressed the back of her wrist against her lips to stifle a moan.
The restraint and slowness was eating at him already. It reminded him of his earlier foolish thoughts, except... even if it frustrated him to no end, he was enjoying himself.
She was quick to react when he started licking her nipple through the material. Her voice cracked on shy, unsure moans, but grew more heated with each one. He was barely doing anything, and yet her scent grew heady. This was arousing her, and he liked how damn easy that was.
She wasn’t fighting this, or him, now.
No, instead her thighs lifted like they wanted to cradle his waist, and he thought her hips might have lifted as if she needed friction elsewhere. She was so sensitive that just the sides of her calves brushing his legs made her tremble.
She even pleaded for him to wait when he drew his tongue away and removed his hold on her other breast.
He did no such thing, keeping his gaze on her as he shuffled back and lowered himself to his belly.
His tail slipped off the bedding, swaying to the side to curl in anticipation, and he placed a paw on the skirt of her shift to keep it down.
Her eyelashes fluttered once he’d finished wedging his shoulders between her parted thighs, and he licked his maw.
“Oh gods,” she moaned behind her wrist, only to snap out a cry and arch when he darted his head down and lashed her clit.
The material caught against his tongue, so he tugged her dress down until it was tightly pressed against her.
Then he did it again, and as her firm clit rolled under his tongue, the tiniest hint of her taste soaked through.
A shudder racked him as he pressed harder, trying to force more of her slick through the material for a better taste as he licked her repeatedly.
One of her hands shot down to the bedding to fist it while the other pressed against the top of his forehead. He hated the gloves – there was no reason for her to wear them – but he understood they must be a source of comfort for her.
He just licked harder, grazing her swollen clit, taking in her soft noises and how they matched his movements.
Her hips bucked against him, and one of her ankles lifted to rest on his shoulder so she could urge him on.
When he lingered to do circles around her pulsing bud, she released the bedding to clasp her naked breast for him.
She squeezed it so hard that her flesh pressed up between the gaps of her fingers. She plucked her own nipple, played with it, rubbed it – apparently whatever she could think of.
Yes, he was absolutely going to make this female pleasure herself in the future while he watched.
Any bashfulness had disappeared under her lust, and she even started using her palm upon his head to anchor herself to thrust up to his mouth.
She wanted more, and he struggled to give it without touching her directly.
Blasted. Perhaps I should have done this in human form. At least then he may have been able to suck it or clamp down on it. He could’ve done the same to her breast, properly playing with it.
Her bare thighs brushed over his shoulders, and he shook his head. No. I’d have to be fully clothed. And there was still a chance he could touch her by accident.
Kier lowered just enough to lick her from the dip of her opening, where she’d soaked the clinging material, to her clit.
The urge to wrench away her skirts and shove his tongue in her to taste her fully became nigh overwhelming.
Would her insides quiver around it? Would she moan and arch and grind on it?
His claws jabbed through the bedding as he tightened his groin muscles to keep his cock at bay when it threatened to jerk out of him.
Fuck, he realised he hadn’t even seen her yet.
He pulled back and shoved the fabric up, fighting back his groan when his cock almost slipped from him at the sight. His tongue went dry as he licked his maw.
He wanted a fucking taste. To feel her softness mould against his tongue. To lick away the glistening sheen that clung to her wet, dusky-rose pussy. To sink his tongue inside her so he could feel her, hot and snug, while she spasmed like she’d done to his fingers.
Instead, Kier dug his thumb claw into his palm, melted the tip of it so it was no longer sharp, and ran it through her folds. He made sure not to stab it into her as he slid his paw up until he was covering the curls on her mound, then slipped his thumb down until it was nestled against her clit.
And then he attacked it.
Her hand darted from his head to the backs of his knuckles, clutching at them with blunt nails. He pressed firmly while working the little nub back and forth.
He wanted to sink his thumb into her, but couldn’t because of his claw, and frustration simmered beneath his heated skin.
Blasted! I don’t have a single thing I can stick inside her.
Not his human fingers or cock, nor his dragon ones.
He couldn’t even use his tail due to the hardness of its arrowhead tip, which he knew would be less than pleasurable to something so soft.
Kier looked around the nearly empty room, not finding a single safe phallic item he could spear her with.
He lifted up, but kept torturing her with his hand as she arched and twisted from his much rougher, faster, harder play. Then he tongued her concealed nipple while she squeezed the freed one.
He immediately regretted his position change, as it allowed his restrained cock to slip from him.
It jutted over her abdomen, and he kept it away from her when he wanted to bury it in her with a single thrust. His own lust ramped up when sharp cries spilled out of her, and she writhed and thrust against his hand.