He pats the mattress in invitation and has left a spot for me. I’m not getting lascivious vibes from him at the moment, so maybe he just wants to curl up together for a while. I’m so weary and discouraged that cuddling actually sounds pretty awesome. How long has it been since someone snuggled me? Not since I was a child.
I climb into bed and fit myself against him, my back to his front. He pulls the blankets over us, wraps an arm around my waist and tucks his chin against my shoulder. “Still want to see this through? Or are you giving up on them like I have?”
“I give up on no one,” I tell him, yawning.
“I noticed. It’s admirable.” His hand smooths up my shoulder and he digs his thumb in, working the muscle. “Sometimes I wish I had the same drive.”
I have to bite back a moan of pleasure at the massage. “If you did, you wouldn’t need me.”
He chuckles. “I suppose not.”
His hand continues to rub at my shoulder, and I roll forward so he has more room to work. “That feels wonderful,” I tell him, and he shifts his weight behind me, leaning on me as he rubs my shoulder even harder. I can feel the press of his arousal against my backside, and my thoughts are turning amorous. As he massages me, liquid heat feels as if its pooling in my veins, and I want more. I whisper, “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“No,” he says, voice soft. His fingers dance down my back, then up to my shoulder again. “I’m saving my kisses.”
Well, that’s irritating. “For what?”
“Special occasion,” he murmurs, and presses his mouth to my clothed shoulder. It’s not entirely a kiss, but it’s not entirelynotone either. I’m about to ask what he considers that brush of his mouth, if it’s not a kiss, when his hand skates down my side. It trails along my thigh, his fingertips light and grazing, and he finds the hem of my nightgown.
His hand slips under it and he begins a slow caress back up my leg, towards my pussy.
My breath catches in my throat.
Drawing tiny circles on my skin, Kalos moves his hand up…and up…and touches me between my thighs. I’m not wearing panties as they don’t seem to be much of a thing in this world, and I didn’t feel naked and exposed until just now. I gasp as his fingers part the cleft between my legs and skate downward into the wetness pooling there. He finds the entrance to my body and traces a circle, then glides back up to my clit and traces another circle there.
“So wet,” he whispers in my ear. “I like that.”
“I thought…we…weren’t…kissing,” I manage to choke out between touches. It’s like he knows just how to caress me, and it’s a struggle to speak between each teasing, wet circle drawn around my clit. I claw at the blankets with desperate need, jerking my hips as he touches me.
“This isn’t a kiss. This is just a little appreciation. This is me wanting to make you feel good.” He rubs his face against the crook of my shoulder, my neck, and moves in to gently bite my ear. “Now be a good girl and be quiet, else you’ll wake up the monk.”
I bite down on the corner of the pillow and spread my thighs a bit more for his touch.
“Now, should I make you come?” He teases into my ear, even as he frames my clit between two fingers and rubs both sides of it. “Or should I leave you wanting?”
I growl into the pillow.
“Thought you’d say that.” Kalos licks a stripe along my ear, then nips at it again. “I can feel you quivering under my hand, Elsie. Does it feel nice? Should I sink my fingers into that pretty cunt of yours and make you want my cock?”
Oh god. His naughty words make me clench deep inside. I manage a nod, because yes, I want that very badly. I want to come so hard. It’s been ages. Even back home, I’d only manage a furtive masturbation session in the shower when I wasn’t exhausted between jobs. It’s been years since I had a date, and even longer since I’ve had honest-to-goodness sex. Having this moment with Kalos feels downright decadent.
And it makes me greedy for more.
“Let’s see if you’re any wetter,” he whispers in my ear, his weight pressing me into the mattress even as his hand pushes deeper between my thighs, fingers dipping into my core. “Yes, you are, aren’t you? I can hear just how wet you are.”
His thumb finds my clit, and I have to bite into the pillow even harder to keep my cries silent. I bury my face in the pillow even as my hips frantically buck against his hand, desperate for release. I need this. I need this so badly. The sultry, almost sullen whispers of the god in my ear just make things that much sexier, and when I come, it’s with a limb-quaking, vision-blurring intensity I haven’t felt in ages.
It’s sogood.
I gasp for air against the pillow, now wet from my biting, and aftershocks tremble and twitch through my legs. I float down from my orgasm, luxuriating in the release. Man, I needed that.
Kalos tucks me against him again, rolling our bodies back in the bed until I’m pressed against his side once more. His hand possessively covers my pussy, still wet with my climax. I slide my hand back and cup his neck, dazed. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’ve been waiting months to do that.”
“You could have done it at any time.”
“If I’d had the ability, aye. But I didn’t until now.”
