Chapter 10
Sting
Her lips are soft as petals. She tastes like honeysuckle as I kiss her slowly. Fully. Feeling my mark erupt in fireworks. Her hands travel my chest, arms and shoulders, back. Her touch makes me feel alive for the first time.
My calluses snag on her pretty dress as I roam her curves.
Pausing, I rub my fingers together and sigh a breath, trying to gather willpower to not rip the dress from her body.
Her chest rises and falls with each breath, matching mine.
She lifts my chin to see eye to eye, and I see the hunger in my eyes reflected in hers.
“Go ahead,” she whispers, as if she’s read my mind, my cravings.
Eyebrow raised at her, she gives a nod, that slight smile on her now swollen, pink lips.
I let my hands travel from her shoulders down her neckline, slowly teasing her skin, enjoying the sight of goose prickles appear from my touch. At the center, between her two gorgeous breasts, my hands meet and pause. I lick my lips, unable to resist the moan of longing.
Clasping the blue fabric in both fists, I pull away. The ripping, shredding of layers of silk is so satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as the delighted gasp that emanates from those pretty lips. Pearly skin and curves on full display, she doesn’t hide from my gaze as I drink her in.
“You are a work of art,” I breathe, unable to believe that she’s really here, really wanting me. She presses her hands on my shoulders and steadies herself as she stands, letting the fabric fall from her hips to the bed. Without pretense, she removes her cotton panties.
I catch her before she can drop back to her knees.
No way am I letting her sweet cunt pass me by without inhaling, licking, devouring.
My hands grip her thighs, holding her in place.
I place kisses on her stomach, trailing them down to the curls of hair.
There I pause, breathing deep, scenting her arousal, letting it burn into my core.
Nudging her legs apart, I find her pink nub with my tongue, savoring the taste of her.
“Sting,” her whisper is a tremble, barely there.
I continue, hands roaming to tease her nipples.
“Please, I wasn’t expecting…you don’t have to…
” there are more words there on her tongue.
More insecurities. I want to erase them all from her.
I raise one finger to her lips, then look up at her, licking her from my lips.
“I know. I want to. I don’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed of anything.
I intend to worship ever inch of you. Here, get comfy.
” I help her back down, letting her scoot up to the pillows.
She holds her arms out to me, calling me to her.
I crawl over her to kiss her, then slide my hands back down. She whimpers a please.
“Hyacinth, are you saying ‘please’ because you don’t like my mouth on your pussy?” I ask, hands on her thighs, cock hard in my pants, positioned to dive in.
She bites her lower lip, driving me wild, but says nothing. I try again. “Hyacinth, do you like my tongue on your clit?” At that simpler question, she nods yes. “Say the word.”
“Yes, I do. But you shouldn’t do it anymore—”
I cut her off. “I am not sure I understand why I shouldn’t. If you enjoy it. And I enjoy it, why wouldn’t I?” I let my hands wander, teasing her inner thighs, running a thumb along the crease where her thigh meets her body. Waiting, as patiently as possible, for her to answer me.
“I—I know that it isn’t—I’m not—good—that way…” One hand covers her face.
Wait one second. Stretching up to lie beside her, I gently uncover her face.
“Look at me.” When she does, I cup her cheek, keeping her here with me, present with me.
“Whoever told you that you aren’t good, or desirable, or whatever the hell they might have said, doesn’t deserve your attention, companionship, or love.
You are desirable. You are everything I want.
Everything I didn’t think I would ever have.
Please let me show you how much I want you. ”
I trail a path of kisses along her shoulder toward her neck. “Do you trust me?” I ask.
With a hitch in her breathing, she answers. “I trust you, Sting.”
Those words unlock something knotted in my chest, as well as my tail. The sound she makes is akin to “ooo,” rather than of shock or fear, and I smile. Her hand reaches out to stroke it as it curves up behind me as I suck her nipple.
“If you do that, I won’t last long,” I admit, a rasp in my voice.
“What purpose does your tail serve in copulation?”
I chuckle against her breast. “You sound like a scientist.”
“Vet tech. And curiosity.” I lick around her nipple and areola as she speaks, my tail trembling under her featherlight touch. Her fingers stay well away from the tip, which is a shame. It’s already leaking, much like my cock.
“While deadly, when aroused, it’s venom is an aphrodisiac.” Words are hard to string together, but I manage. It takes a second or two, but then her hand stills.
“How?” Now she’s up on her elbows, looking studiously at the tip of my tail. Then, “Does it hurt?” I hear the twinge of concern.
“No. It won’t hurt. I’m not stinging you as in a fight.”
Her exhale is one of relief.
“Can I show you?” I ask. A flurry of emotions crosses her face, finally landing on a smile.
“Yes, please.”