His fingers were clever and courteous; Carol could tell when he worried that he’d clutched at her too desperately, but sheliked every touch. She clawed him, in return, and could feel his arousal when she went to work at his belt.
“It’s not fair that I’m this naked and you’re wearing so much,” she scolded him.
“Let me even the playing field,” Keenan countered, taking over the terrible job she was doing of getting his pants off.
He proved much more capable of the disrobing task, and he stripped his pants, shoes, and boxers off in one smooth move. His cock was definitely in scale with his enormous hands. It was not disproportionate to his size, but his scale was such that the member was intimidatingly large and thick enough to fill Carol’s hand when she closed her fingers around it in awe.
Keenan groaned and closed his eyes as she touched his cock, and Carol played with the sparks of light that danced along it everywhere her fingers brushed, toying and teasing until Keenan finally said, “Stop…”
All Carol wore now was the ridiculous underwear she’d never planned on showing anyone, and she gasped as Keenan picked her up again, making her feel weightless and protected as he lay her firmly down on the cushions she’d pulled off the couch.
He slipped her frog-and-crown underpants down with all the reverence usually reserved for lace and silk, and chased them all the way down her legs and off her ankles. Carol had no idea where her shoes had gone.
Then he kissed his way back up her calves, making Carol grateful that she’d shaved that morning, and lingered at her knees to find unexpected erogenous zones before making his way up her thighs.
Even with her eyes closed, she could see the sparks that he drew from her skin. He was playing her like an instrument, and she was asuccubus.
Now that she had a word for it, it seemed impossible that Carolhadn’tknown.
She’d simply put her hunger down to loneliness and diet, and curbed her sexual appetites with spicy romance books when no one she regularly interacted with raised any desire in her.
But then Keenan had seen her, and wanted her, and something in Carol had uncoiled and come to life.
That’s what this was: living again after being asleep.
“Carol, like a holiday song, Carol?” Keenan had come up the inside of her thigh and swerved away from the parts that most wanted his touch.
“Yes, Keenan, my chair-stealing troll?” Was it funny enough? Too sensitive? Carol was out of practice trying to be humorous. She was grateful when he chuckled.
“I want to fuck you now,” he said through his ferocious bared teeth. “May I?”
Carol was convinced; she could not becontrollinghim if he was asking permission. If she was truly influencing him, he would already be holding her down by each wrist and driving into her with that big, thick cock.
“Youmaynot,” she said, and he gave a little start of dismay before she went on to add, “youmust!”
His knees on either side of her dented the cushions almost to flat, and Carol was tipping her hips to meet him eagerly as he put first his fingers into her hot folds, and then the tip of his member.
“Oh,” she said, feeling searing heat and soaking wet as he thrust, gently at first, and then deeper with each stroke. As large as she knew that he was, he felt even bigger as he spread her and pressed, further and harder.
When she thought she could take no more of him inside of her, he murmured, “Just a little bit more, just a little bit…”
And it wasn’t just a little bit at all as Carol arched up to take every last inch, wondering if she was glowinginsidethe way she was where her belly touched his.
It was impossible to think of moving, filled so full, and yet impossible not to, and each little wriggle drove him deeper and brought her higher, until Carol was crying out in pleasure and release, and the glow of her body wasn’t limited to where they touched.
She could feel Keenan trying to slow, to prolong their fun, and she could feel when he gave up and succumbed to their frantic rhythm. His strokes grew erratic and the final crest and descent was accompanied by a groan of release as he finally erupted into her.
Carol drank his pleasure as surely as she’d enjoyed her own, and it warmed and filled her as completely as he had physically.
6
KEENAN
Carol was purring in Keenan’s arms like a contented cat. The cushions were in disarray, mostly shoved apart by their desperate coupling, and it might have been uncomfortable if Keenan wasn’t so thoroughly satisfied.
Carol. She was like a song, one that Keenan didn’t mind having stuck in his head on repeat.
“Tell me about being a troll,” she said, making light dance between her fingertips and Keenan’s bare arm.
