Chapter 17
Shawna
Ican barely breathe as I stare at his cock.
The length appears something on the more generous end of average or slightly smaller side of whoa howdy, but that girth makes my internal muscles squeeze in anticipation.
For how slender he is, I definitely expected something slimmer.
.. not akin to a kielbasa threatening to wreck my girl parts with the same efficiency as the actual kielbasa regularly destroys my diets.
I lick my lips and before I realize it, my internal thoughts just come shooting out my big mouth.
The delayed horror catches up to me when I realize what I just said, and my eyes snap back up to his face. He frowns down at his cock, not even looking at me, and grimaces as he gives a helpless shrug.
“It is an absurdly disproportionate part of frost demon anatomy.” His eyes shift shyly to me, and his lips twist apologetically. “I hope you do not find it too grotesque.”
“Grotesque?” I echo, dumbfounded.
The crazy urge to laugh seizes me, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the giggle, but I am not quite effective at silencing it because he frowns at me and his tail twitches anxiously.
Poor guy. What kind of demon has a complex over his cock?
Then again, what kind of demon hits the brakes on sex when things are charging full speed ahead?
It is an uncommon enough trait to find among men, much less a being as primal and instinct-driven as a demon.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and I quickly lower my hand to smile apologetically at him. “I swear I wasn’t laughing at you. It is just all... that,” I wave my hand toward his genitals, “is a fantasy of many women. And probably a good number of men, too.”
He gives me a skeptical look before suddenly returning to a crouched position in front of me, his cock pointing at me from between his muscled legs.
Crouched like this, the power within his lean muscles is more obvious as they bunch, and my mouth momentarily goes dry as I desperately try not to stare at the monster waving at me from beneath his flat navel.
“Is it your fantasy, Shawna?” he murmurs, and I blush with the warmth that shoots up through me in response.
I give a jerky nod and lick my lips again, another nervous giggle escaping me. This time, however, he does not frown. His lips curl sweetly as if he has suddenly realized the reason for my giggling and thankfully finds it endearing instead of insulting.
“So it is,” he rumbles, hitting a deeper octave in his arousal than he usually does.
His wings flex, expanding around him almost like a bird showing off its best assets as the silvery veins and icy blue hues of the webbing catch the light from the fire.
His long tail flicks sinuously behind him from side to side as he lowers himself forward onto his knees, his large hand closing around my thigh.
Gripping my leg firmly, Jak draws me toward him so that my ass slides along the sheepskin and I end up lying flat on my back as the demon prowls forward on his hands and knees until he is covering me.
The corner of his mouth hitches and his icy eyes burn down at me as he wraps his fingers around one of my legs and draws it to the side, and then does the same with the other, leaving my bare sex open to him.
It is a bit embarrassing to be splayed like that, and my eyes briefly drop downward to make sure that the pose didn’t make thighs look lumpy or any of my belly rolls more pronounced.
I wish I knew what everything down there looks like right now.
When was the last time I trimmed? I frantically try to remember.
Gods, what if he has never seen a vulva, and he freaks out at how fleshy it is?
What if mine is even more so? I never really made a good, detailed comparison of mine against those of other women, so there is no way to gauge what his reaction to it might be.
Oh shit. And now I am staring. I jerk my eyes to meet Jak’s gaze, but he merely tips his head to the side curiously, his smile inching upward.
Then, to my horror, his eyes drop, following the same path my gaze took.
My belly tightens a bit with dread, and my vagina doesn’t seem to know whether to dry up or gush with excitement at the way he is studying me.
Then his smile widens and his eyes slit with appreciation as his expression once again turns hungry, and that seems to decide my libido as a hot, heavy warmth plunges through me and I feel my arousal slipping from between my folds and back onto my ass and soaking in the rug beneath me.
That is a little embarrassing, but I am not given the opportunity to dwell on it because he lowers his head and his long tongue slips from his mouth to drag a teasing path across my collar before making neat circles along the surface of each breast. A drugging pleasure overtakes me as he sucks one nipple into his mouth and then the other, each tug sharper than the last, as if pulling essence from my core.
But it is when his mouth trails lower to skim over my belly and then further south that I forget to breathe.
He pauses there, between my thighs and he meets my eyes as a salacious grin spread across his face.
“Did you not once ask if I intended to ‘eat you?’” he rasps, and I gape at him as he brushes my pubic bone with his nose, his smile growing wider. “I think I will.”
Holding my gaze with his, his tongue strokes over my vulva in one long, slow lick.
My hips jump and hot pleasure lights up my body from the contact of thick, slick tongue swiping over my most sensitive, and intimate flesh.
With the second lick, and third, and every one which follows, every hangup running through my mind vanishes entirely in puffs of smoke absorbed into the haze of pleasure sweeping over me.
At least it’s not just me. Jak lifts his head briefly with a faint look of shock as he slowly licks his lips as if savoring the flavor, his pupils blown wide until they come close to eclipsing the arctic blue of his irises.
He drops lower, resting his chest against the rug and tugs me closer before wrapping his forearms around my thighs and opening me wider before dropping his face between my thighs with a guttural groan.
His tongue lashes along my slit and over my clit before driving into the heat to plunge and lap the pooling hot moisture within me.
His tongue and mouth are simultaneously icy and hot, causing a confusion of sensations that sends my senses spiraling.
I fist the rug with both hands as my hips lift, and I writhe in response to his very talented oral skills.
His tongue drags repeatedly over my sex, and I feel a deep ripple within my belly that has me releasing the rug to grip both horns only to whimper when his growl vibrates against the most intimate part of me.
Oh fuck. I whimper softly as a tremor runs through me.
Somehow, I don’t think that this is simply a skill learned from countless lovers.
There is a raw eagerness to it that belies mere skill.
It is pure enthusiasm as he laps and sucks at my sex, his tongue alternately stroking and plunging with a natural rhythm that draws currents of pleasure through me.
Pleasure that is magnified by the glide of his wings sensuously touching my bare skin in soft strokes that make it difficult to catch my breath as a delicious pressure builds rapidly deep within my core.
I make a small sound in the back of my throat and twist my hips uselessly.
I can barely move them with the weight of his hold on me, but his grip tightens in response—not painfully so, but enough to remind me that he has me and is not letting go.
I pant, my grip tightening on his horns until my fingernails scrape against them.
It doesn’t seem to bother him. Rather, he growls eagerly when I accidentally dig my nails into the fleshy part around the base of his horns, his excitement rising proportionately as the lapping and sucking at my sex becomes fiercer.
I tremble in reaction, but I cannot make myself let go.
Instead, I ride the tide as my orgasm rises and explodes through me with such ferocity that I cry out, my hips bucking against his mouth despite his hold as sparks explode and brighten behind my closed eyes.
In the midst of the chaotic whirlwind of energy rushing through me, I feel a delicate pull that I can only describe as something akin to lips sucking at my nipple or clit, but the action draws some part of me in a shiny wave of euphoria.
I sigh and shiver as his mouth pulls away, my eyes slowly drifting open as he rises up onto his hands to peer down at me.
His pale eyes are bright as he stares down at me, the corner of his mouth curling in a satiated smirk like a cat who got the cream.
He holds me with that gaze as he climbs his way up my body and presses my legs wider with his knees before settling between my thighs.
His eyes appear to glow with a white, chilling fire that appears neither warm nor comforting when compared to the flames crackling in the nearby hearth.
Those eyes study me with a wholly predatory gaze, and my pulse flutters nervously in response.
But then he smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle, softening the blaze of his gaze into something less chilling and far sweeter, like the sugary glaze on a gumdrop.
His hips shift and I feel the head of his cock tap against my wet sex.
I shiver in reaction, and he watches me, his smile widening.
“Are you ready?” he murmurs, and the soft cadence of his voice has such a musical quality in that moment that I quiver again rapturously as it teases my ear and sends a sweet electric bolt through my body in response that nearly makes me lightheaded.