Slowly, she slides off the counter. Genevive scurries away, disappearing into the rooms beyond when Summer’s feet hit the floor.
Hands shaking, she tugs on the hem of her blue sweater, and turning her face partially away, she lifts it over her head.
Her nerves fire like an electric shock, striking my system too.
My eyes drop to her breasts where an intricately patterned blood-red bra cups them, raising them and pressing them together. Almost spilling out, the edges of her pink nipples appear, my branded handprint rising above, plumped outward. She grabs the counter with both hands, leaning away from me.
My cock jerks, engorging as its light grows to illuminate her. My hands clench, wanting more than anything to cup her breasts and squeeze, to make them even plumper, to tug down the fabric covering her tits so my thumbs can stroke them, squeeze them.
My mouth waters with the urge to suckle her.
“Lingerie,” I rasp, licking my lips.
“There’s more.”
My gaze descends to her stomach, landing on the crux of her thighs. “Show me.”
She trembles, lifting her white-knuckled hands off the counter to unbuckle her pants. She slides them down her legs, pulling off her shoes and socks at the same time, giving me a glimpse of her butt. Clenching my hands at my sides, my claws bite into my palms.
When she straightens, her face is flushed, her arms flexed like she has to battle the instinct to cover her body.
“Don’t,” I plead. “Never cover your body when it is just us.”
Her throat bobs as I stare at the tiny red triangle hiding her feminine sweetness. It matches the bra, with a golden ribbon pinning it to her hips. Her arousal thickens the air, barely contained by the delicate red fabric.
“I’ll try.” Her voice comes out like a squeak.
Dropping to my knees, my nostrils flare as I lean closer and sniff. Her scent makes me shudder.
“Z…” she squeaks again when my hands grip the counter on either side of her.
“I like this… lingerie.”
“I’m glad.”
“I have never been given a gift, and this—” I inhale her arousal “—can never be outdone.”
She’s silent for a moment as I nuzzle her panties with my nose, debating if I should use my tongue to shift them aside and explore what’s underneath.
“I can outdo this,” she whispers.
I chuckle. “I would like to see you try, my little human. I would like to see you try.”
She jumps up, sitting on the counter, forcing me back, and as I look back up at her, she opens her thighs, bracing her feet against my wrists. I release the counter and drop my gaze.
She has outdone herself.
There’s a slit down the center of the red lace, revealing her glistening sex.
My control snaps.
I grab her legs, forcing them far apart, and dive between her thighs. She cries out, grabbing my horns as I bury my face into her pussy, sliding my tongue inside her, tasting her everywhere. Her hips jerk, her cries shifting to moans as I shunt my tongue, rubbing it against the small wrinkles that make her dance, working my tongue against them.
Her moans morph back to cries as I slide my tail along the inside of her thigh and tweak her nub in sync with my swirling tongue.
She comes on my mouth, and I drink her down, her sex spilling against my face, wetting it everywhere. This is new—and I want more. Wiping my palm down my cheek, I lick it and my lips clean.
Delicious. Her taste undoes me.
