She shrugged, a fussy hmph sounding behind closed lips. “That was a ruse.” She plucked at his shirt. “Don’t make me use my imagination.”
He obliged, dragging his shirt and cloak over his head, his trousers and shoes coming off in a tangle to be dealt with later. His cock, finally free to jut up toward his stomach, had a bead of pre-come shining at the tip.
Calya eyed him—it—her teeth pressing into her lower lip.
Nocren reached for her again, the pad of his index finger tapping against her mouth. “A ruse? No.” He jerked his hand back to avoid her bite. “I think you liked it.”
“I think”—she pushed against his cheek until he dropped onto the bed—“mouths can be put to better use.”
Calya scrambled on top until she straddled his face, her thighs holding him still, knee nudging his cheek. She tilted her head, eyes bright as she grinned down at him.
Then she canted her hips, hovering an inch above his mouth, so close that the damp heat of her core caressed his skin. Her sweet musk filled his nose, had his cock bobbing in anticipation. He all but salivated like a damned dog.
Nocren grabbed Calya’s waist and pulled down, his mouth opening to meet her. A soft cry reached his ears as his tongue licked along her seam. She wriggled in his hands as he teased between her folds, reveling in her taste. He lapped up the honeyed come that had pooled at her entrance, swallowing down her addictive blend of sweet with a hint of tang—delved inside for more, deep as he could, intent on the source.
Calya’s thighs quivered, gripping and releasing her hold on his face as she rode his mouth. Soft moans blurred into harsh breaths as Nocren dutifully ate her out. When she sank down onto him, snuffing out all chance for breath, straining to take his tongue even farther in, Nocren did his part. Tipped his chin what small amount he could to grant a better angle and waited for her to rise again so he could snatch a quick breath.
Being a diviner, morbid curiosity about one’s end came with the gift. Add in a rough-and-tumble job, and Nocren knew that there were a number of unpleasant, violent ways his life might end. He tried not to have an opinion one way or another, for the alternative was to slowly go mad.
Tonight was an exception. Let death come for him, buried between Calya’s thighs. It was a much more peaceful way than he’d envisioned he’d go.
She leaned back, her pelvis shifting enough for Nocren to breathe again. He groaned into her flesh when her hand closed around his shaft. She gave him a slow, firm pump, smearing his pre-come around his cockhead, then slid her hand down, exposing his crown to the cabin’s cool air. Her pace increased, grip tightening as she gave a short twist with each stroke.
She slapped his hand away when he tried to slow her down, giving him a particularly forceful squeeze. It didn’t take long for Calya to have him wound tight, pressure mounting until his tipping over felt imminent. But then she’d loosen her fingers, hand pausing enough for him to reset the smallest amount as she wiggled her hips and ground against his mouth.
A sweet torture, and one he would’ve gladly endured any other night. Any but this one—the only they would likely ever have. An anomaly, courtesy of her bout of motion sickness and her very unconventional way of dealing with it.
Tonight, he wouldn’t waste his come by blowing it all over his stomach. If the wind thought Calya was so damned important, then Nocren would ensure that she remembered her time with him, too.
Laving her pussy from back to front, Nocren sucked her clit into his mouth. Rolled it between his lips, tugging enough to make her tremble and contract. Her grip on his cock weakened as another orgasm built.
Nocren’s hand slithered up her chest, palming one of her breasts. Calya arched into his touch, into his mouth, her breath catching as he pinched her nipple. He repeated the motion, this time sucking on her clit at the same time. Pressed it against his teeth.
Calya’s entire frame shook. She cried out, hips rising as the sensations became too much, more of her sweetness flooding across Nocren’s tongue.
He let her escape upward, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Then he grabbed her by the waist again and lifted her enough so he could immediately rise to a sitting position.
“What are y-you—” Calya yelped as Nocren slid his fingers roughly through her folds, coating himself in her arousal.
He slicked his cock, already wet from her efforts, and positioned the tip at her entrance.
Calya gripped his shoulders. “Lo-Lowe. I—I just?—”
He cradled the back of her skull in his palm. “You wanted to get fucked through a storm, sweetheart. Take it.”
He pulled her onto him as his pelvis bucked up, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. She opened for him so nicely, crying out against his neck, her inner walls tight yet deliciously yielding. Calya Helm might’ve called herself a cold-hearted bitch, but she burned hot at the center.
She bounced on his cock, tits heaving, fingernails digging crescent-shaped gouges into his skin. He didn’t care. He ignored her panting cries, his hand still molded around the back of her head, angling her so their lips met. She struggled, tried to avert her face, but it was futile. It wasn’t a kiss so much as a claiming. An act and reminder of possession, at least while she was in this space with him. A reminder that she’d agreed to put herself in his care, and gentleness had never been on offer.
Nocren licked into her mouth as he crushed her body to his—made her taste the tang of her come while he experienced the way her sweetness mixed with the lingering berry flavor of the Scarlett Kiss.
Trembles rippled across her body, her cries growing more desperate, muffled against his lips. He’d never given her pussy a chance to adjust to his intrusion, and so close on the heels of her second orgasm, her sensitivity was at its peak. Nocren cared about that least of all. Or rather, he’d been counting on it.
A dull, wet slap sounded each time their bodies met. Calya’s ass thumped against the tops of his thighs, and she struggled weakly as he rolled his hips, rubbing against her engorged clit. She didn’t fight the kiss anymore, either, her lips fumbling against him as she wound tighter. The effects of the aphrodisiac had her flushed again, glorious heat radiating off her skin and embracing his cock.
Perhaps Nocren wasn’t so far removed from Avenor, for he was happy to take advantage of Calya’s vulnerability, too. A state she’d offered up to him so freely, knowing so little about him. Brash and fearless, and still so young. Self-assured. He imagined that she was rarely, if ever, so exposed in the bedroom. No, his Lady Heartless was sure of her control.
His lady? A troubling thought, but true enough for the time being. The Scarlett Kiss laid her bare, left her open and tender, able to take everything he gave her in such quick succession.
