Chapter 11
Hyacinth
Sting’s hands are callused. His lips are needy as they tug at my clit, my nipples, my lips.
Somehow, wherever his lips touch is connected straight to my heart, and all I want is to give him what he wants.
So while I am nervous as fuck about his venomous aphrodisiac, as well as his insistence that he likes me…
down there, when no one else ever has, I’m willing to let him, as I believe him—this is what he wants.
His hot mouth, once again on my clit, has a magic all on its own. The sounds he makes seem indecent, a lapping and slurping as he licks and sucks, fingers running through my folds, circling at my entrance. When I find myself grinding against his face, I still. Quit breathing. What was that?
Sting’s face pops up, glistening in the light of early morning from…
me? “Hey, that was good. Did it feel good?” I hesitantly nod yes.
“Then keep going.” And he disappears between my thighs again.
His tail snakes its way up and down my thigh, trailing liquid that is both hot and icy—leaving a tingling sensation along my skin.
I try, but I can’t. Can’t grind against him.
Can’t let myself fully relax. It feels so good, like I’m being pulled into deep water full of stars.
But every time I let myself feel good, my brain pulls me back, reminding me that I shouldn’t enjoy this.
Lily is the pretty one, the one the boys like, adore.
She’s the one who lets loose without a care in the world.
I’m the one who carries the world on her shoulders.
“Hyacinth.” His voice is gravelly, needy, and commanding all at the same time. And my name is a full sentence on his lips. “I promise, trust me, I love this. I love giving you pleasure. Are you ready?”
I nod without thinking, assuming he means the main event. His cock inside me. Gotta say, despite my ability to fully relax, I am looking forward to this.
Except, after he takes his pants off, his length achingly large and hard, reddish purple, and leaking at the tip, he doesn’t fit himself between my thighs.
Doesn’t straddle me. The little whimper that escapes me would normally embarrass me, but it doesn’t today.
Because I know what I want. My hands grasp at any part of him I can reach, pulling him into me, onto me. Sting resists.
“Patience. I feel your hesitance. Let me help you.” This man, who is sculpted like a Greek god, lies next to me, holding me, and places the gentlest kiss on my lips.
There’s pressure again at my entrance. Assuming it’s his finger, I press, hoping he’ll insert it inside me.
Except, it doesn’t want to fit. That’s when I realize—it’s his tail.
“Shh, it’s going to feel good, I promise,” he says in response to my wide eyes.
And like an idiot, I trust him.
His fingers rub my clit. His tail…I don’t know, it’s pressed against me, that same tingling sensation on my thigh now inside me. That same desire to grind against him hits me. He sees the look in my eyes. “Go ahead, princess. Try it. Milk it.”
This time when he calls me princess, my pride swells. I let myself pretend that I am, in fact, a princess, and this is my right to seek my pleasure against any part of him I want.
And by gods, it feels so good.
“That’s it. Almost there. Keep going.” I don’t know what he’s talking about. But I like his encouragement. The tip of his tail makes it farther inside, not much, but enough that I feel full—so full.
A desire of wildness rushes through me and I grind hard against him.
His tail releases inside me. My gasp at the unexpected sensation turns into a full orgasm in an instant.
I clench hard against his hard tail, sure that I’ll break the structure.
Sting tugs my hair and kisses me hard. No more gentleness from either of us.
No more timidity. I am on fire in the best possible way.
My orgasm lingers. An aftershock? I don’t know, but I keep riding his stinger, unable to imagine sex any other way after this.
“That’s my good girl. That’s it, princess. Let me fill you up.” Sting whispers sweet things in between kissing me. I don’t say anything. I’m nothing but primal pants and need.
When my body seems to settle, he pulls out. It’s the first time I’ve seen the bulbous tip of his tail look deflated. The sight of it makes me smile. I did that. It looks so rigid, I assumed it was an exoskeleton of sorts, but this indicates something different, but I’m not sure what.
“How do you feel?” Sting asks, a smug look on his face. I shake my head, unwillingly to even attempt words. He holds me and I let him as I assess my pieces and parts.
Everything is stretched and tingling in the most delightful way. I’ve never had such a powerful orgasm before. I’m almost lightheaded from it. Arms over my head, legs straight out, I stretch, tensing every muscle, then releasing.
That’s all it takes. I sit up and push Sting onto his back so I can straddle him. Desire and need course through me. All I can think is that I want more. If this is what it feels like to be worshipped, I never want to leave this bed.
“Are you ready?” I ask as I stroke his cock in my hand. Now it’s his turn for his breath to catch at the sensation of being played with. I run my thumb around the top of his cock, spreading his pre-cum.
He nods, and I demand he say the words. “Yes, Hyacinth. I’m ready for you.”
And with those delicious words, I sit atop his cock until he’s fully inside me.