Kit felt something click into place as he stroked Gentry’s hair off her face.The girl is touch-starved.Somehow, he hadn’t made the connection until just now, when she’d looked at him with those hungry eyes as he’d pet her. She’d been locked up for years.
Somehow, the thought made him unbearably sad. He’d been a lot of things in his life, but deprived of basic human contact had never been one of them. Gentry moaned in his arms and he held her closer, positive that the nightmares must’ve begun. He could only imagine how bad they had to be for a proud girl like Gentry to ask for a witch’s help.
Taking care of her healed something inside him. Made him happy. Sure, Visha had always demanded things from him, but had he ever had a chance to guess what her needs were? Never.
Kit pressed his face in Gentry’s hair and breathed, unsure if he’d get a lick of sleep while he was pressed against her like this. It felt like a sweet kind of torture, one that he’d rather die than shy away from. For a second, he imagined how good it would be if this wasn’t just because she only had him to go to, but rather she’d chosen him.
A hell of a thing, that would be. A genius woman like Gentry choosing him.
Deciding that he had to stop being delusional, Kit closed his eyes and tried to find some peace.
forty-two
Kit
Drayer held down a hot, thrashing woman, her moans the one thing that drove him into her body again and again. It had taken some time for him to find a woman who could be discreet enough for his tastes, but this one was an expert at both sucking his cock and keeping her mouth shut. It was quite a skill, and one he treasured for the campaign trail.
Drayer had always loved women, even when his proclivities had disgusted his sister. Secretly, he wondered if that was why Lydia had chosen a male body for him — as a way to set things to the right order, so to speak.
It was a disturbing thought, but he was too humbled from decades of disfigurement to care about what the truth was. His body was healthy. Women no longer looked disgusted to be with him. He was happy.
“Uh, Drayer,” the woman moaned below him, daring to work her hips against his.
“Shhhh.” He covered her mouth and pressed downward, fucking into her so roughly that she bit down. Rather than enraging him, it spurred him on. Faster and faster until —
Kit shook Gentry awake, his heart thundering in his ears as he realized justwhatkind of dream she’d been having. Her moans and pretty shaking thighs had left nothing to the imagination. Normally, had they been together and she not been soul-bonded to some other man, he would’ve already had his hands down her pants to help her finish. But this? Knowing that someone else had brought her to this state, even from a memory, irrevocably pissed him off.
“Drayer—what..?” Gentry whispered, her voice confused and groggy.
Hearing another man’s name on her lips made something inside Kit snap. He tugged her closer, putting a knee in between to stop her legs from rubbing together. “Wrong,” he murmured in her ear, trying his very hardest not to sound like a maddened barbarian, “try again, sweetheart. Who’re you in bed with?”
Apparently, holding her had been the wrong move. It only made her hornier as she rubbed her soaked pussy against his knee. He wasn’t at all prepared to hear her moan, “Kit.”
“Gentry”—he fought for control as he spun her around to face him—“are you with me, baby?” He didn’t want her mind elsewhere, wanted to be sure that the tonic hadn’t stolen her mind to where she wasn’t consenting.
He watched as she shook her head, her pretty green eyes clearing with the motion. Then her cheeks turned a glorious shade of red as she looked at him in horror. “That was not what the tonic was supposed to do,” she hissed, “I-I saw him—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he growled, wanting her mind on him and him alone. It was a little funny, in a fucked-up way; Visha had always been the jealous one in their relationship, but there was something so infuriating about another man gettinghis Gentry wet that thoroughly pissed him off. He had to do one better. “Would you like to come, sweetie?”
He watched with delight as Gentry turned even redder. “I-it’s not like that,” she stuttered, “ugh, neverhim.”
“I know, I know,” Kit cooed, trying to mask his rage under the silky veneer of persuasion, “but that’s why you should let me make you feel better. Then”—he flipped her over onto her back and crawled on top—“this can be about us. I can makehimgo away.”
He saw the exact moment Gentry caved. Her pretty emerald eyes fluttered and her lips parsed. He pressed further, dragging his hand between her breasts through her sleeping top and lingering just above her pants line — the same motion she’d teased him with at the hotel room. “Say it, Gentry, say that you want me to make your little pussy feel better. If you’re really nice, then I’ll even use my mouth.”
That seemed to piss his woman off rather than excite her. She scowled, all embarrassment forgotten. “You’ll lick my pussy whether—”
He didn’t let her finish that sentence. A man on a mission, he ripped her pants off and spread her legs. She screamed when he licked her with a single swipe of his tongue. In response, Gentry gripped his hair, pulling him towards her rather than away. Her moans were music to his ears.
Kit couldn’t recall a single instance where he’d enjoyed eating pussy more than he did with Gentry’s. She was responsive and aggressive, not afraid to undulate her hips as he found the rhythm she liked best. She also never shut up, telling him ‘to go faster’ or ‘slower’ on a dime. His hair hurt from her pulling. It was magnificent.
He could tell when she was close — that was the only time she’d gotten quiet. Lifting his head for only a second, he inserted a finger into her tight, little pussy. It took one pump, then two.Then she was tightening on his fingers and milking them for what they were worth, her back arching and her head thrown back. Kit enjoyed the view.
When she was finally done, he gathered her up in his arms, hugging her close. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered to her and he was overjoyed when she hid her face in his arm. From aggressive to shy, that was his girl in a nutshell.
He then gentled her to sleep, stroking her hair and peppering her face with kisses, cognizant that it felt as though his balls would fall off from blueness. But he accepted them with pride. Sometimes the sweetest things needed time to mature, and he sure as hell hadn’t wanted to make the night about himself. Gentry was worth waiting for.
forty-three
