“S-sorry,” she stuttered. “I can’t stop it.”
Vale didn’t reply. He pushed her dress up, and Ivy was surprised to see genuine hunger in the slack line of his jaw. She hoped it wasmetaphoricalhunger, but she couldn’t tell with all his robes hiding… whatever equipment he had down there.
Ivy bit her lip, still self-conscious even with the pollen raging through her. In terms of seduction, this was possibly the best-case scenario. She was awful at seduction, a fact she tried to convince her uncle of, to no avail. But her uncle told her to do it, and so she had reluctantly agreed.
He would be proud of me, Ivy thought, and then had to immediately stop thinking of her uncle. Just as he had purposefully shied away from any graphic detail when he was urging her to “do whatever it took” to make the Skullstalker attached to her, both of them had avoided each other’s eyes as he talked in confusing metaphors.
Vale pushed her thighs apart. Ivy let him, legs shaking despite the desire surging through her. His fangs were sosharp. What was he going to do?
Another pulse of hot desire flooded through her, a lance of pain following it. Ivy cried out, her fingers twisting in the fur-lined nest as the pain took over.
Then something soft and slick touched her thigh, and the pain subsided.
Ivy looked down. Vale’s tongue was sliding up her leg, so long and pink it made her gasp. It ran through the slick on her thighs—evidence of what the pollen was doing to her—and a strange rumbling noise emerged from Vale’s throat.
Not quite a growl. It was almost… a purr?
Those dangerous fangs did not come close to her leg, only his long, otherworldly tongue. It moved closer to her hole, brushing her folds so gently that Ivy gasped.
“You’re—” Ivy panted. “Are you going to?—?”
Vale’s tongue drew back, and Ivy whimpered in protest.
“You need something inside you,” Vale explained. “This will suffice.”
Then his tongue was on her again, licking a line up her folds and grazing her clit. Ivy keened, one hand leaving the fur-covered nest to wrap around one of his antlers.
Both of them froze.
Ivy squeaked, letting go of the antler like it had burned her. “Sorry! I’m—I’m—ah!”
Another wave of pain cascaded through her. Then Vale’s tongue started to move again, and the pain vanished.
Ivy returned her hand to the fur, her heart hammering. She hadn’t been thinking, too caught up in the pollen. She wouldn’t do it again. No matter how much she suddenly wanted to touch those strange, barbed antlers. This wasn’t for his pleasure, she reminded herself. It was so she could finally get to work.
Vale’s hot, wet tongue pressed inside her hole. The first brush was surprisingly tentative, and through the haze of pollen-lust, Ivy was surprised. Then his grip tightened on her legs, and his tongue pushed forcefully inside.
Ivy jerked, her mouth falling open. It was too much—of course it was, it was a Skullstalker’s inhumanly long tongue. It was too big, too thick, pressing against her walls before they were ready to let him in. It ached to the point she worried he would tear her.
And yet Ivy’s hips moved on their own accord, trying to get his tongue deeper.
“Yes,” she heard herself moan. “Like that!”
Her hand came up again, instinctively reaching for the antler she had just pulled back from. But before she could stop herself, something wrapped around her wrist.
She looked over. It wasn’t his tail, like she had been expecting. It was avine. This one looked like it was made of shadows, soft clouds wisping over her skin as it held her still with surprising force.
Vale’s tongue paused once more. When Ivy looked down, he was watching the vine with an air of… frustration? Ivy had assumed he was the one who ordered it. Just how much was he in control of his void?
“Ridiculous,” Vale muttered. Then he lowered his head yet again, and his tongue resumed its rough shove inside her.
Ivy sank her teeth into her lip, letting the pollen roll through her. She felt like she was going insane. She was lying with her dress rucked up, baring herself to a literalmonster, and it was all she could do not to moan for more. She just wished she could tell if he was enjoying this. Not that she cared, it was just— Well, it was nice to be enjoyed. For a moment, when the vine wrapped around her wrist, she had entertained the idea that he couldn’tcontrol himself, that she was distracting him to the point of letting his void run amok.
Another wave of pollen-lust slammed into her, and Ivy cried out, voice breaking with need.
“Please,” she babbled nonsensically. “Please, please,Vale!”
She tried to grip his antlers. Another vine shot out and coiled around her wrist, holding both her hands down against the fur-lined nest. Then two more vines wrapped around her ankles, pulling her legs apart.
