Lover? I’ve never thought of myself as someone’slover.
I nod again, eager to get going, to take off her clothes and see all of Peony’s ripples and curves up close. Yes, it doesmean showing myself to her—but now I think I can believe that she’ll give me a chance.
“I’ll give you all the time in the world,” I tell her, rising to my feet until I’ve gone from peering up between her breasts to looking down at her from above. She has to tilt her head up to lock eyes with me, and when she does, she smiles her mischievous smile. Her hand reaches for mine and I take it, letting her guide me out of the room.
I follow her down the hall with single-minded focus, fixated on the perfect sway of her hips as she takes me to my own bedroom. Due to the thinness of the fabric, I can see under her shirt where her bra squeezes her just a little too tight, and I can’t wait to take it off her and let her be free.
When we reach the door, Peony stands back and gives me the honors. Not releasing her hand, I twist the knob and push the damned thing open. Peony doesn’t even look around the room as we stumble in. Her eyes are fully focused on me.
Onme.Like I’m the center of her world.
I pull her inside, not even bothering to close it again before I descend on her.
I try not to fear what might happen here, what the monster might do. I need to believe it would never hurt her, just as I wouldn’t.
Peony’s little hands land on the exposed fur of my chest, and there, she plucks at the first button of my coat, and the next one, going slow as if waiting for me to stop her. Instead, I watch as she removes all of them, then rises again to help me slip it off. She repeats this with the buttoned shirt underneath, as I can’t wear anything that goes on over my head thanks to my horns.
Then, my torso is bare to her, and she bites her lip as she drinks me in. She runs her fingers through my mane, downover the lighter fur of my chest like she’s relishing the texture of me.
“Your turn,” I murmur, my hands finding their way down to the hem of her blouse. I nudge it with my claws, and the little mischievous smile returns to her face.
I love that one most of all.
She wiggles off the blouse, revealing her plain white bra. It’s very Peony to have something like this, no frills, but practical with her big breasts. And heavens, are they. I lick my lips as she reaches behind her back to unclip it, which brings her to a momentary halt.
“Sorry,” she says, fiddling until it falls free. Her expression is much shyer now as her perfect dusky nipples are revealed to the air, and immediately, I fall in love with them.
Without needing to think, I drop to my knees in front of her, absolutely enthralled. I know what I was made to do, right at this moment, and it’s to worship her. To make Peony my queen.
Taking care with my claws, I gently cup one teardrop-shaped breast, then the other, my cock instantly leaping to attention. I test the left nipple with my tongue, and the broad, puffy areola tightens, turning into a small peak as I lap it again. Peony stiffens as I transfer to the other one, and a little gasp falls from her lips as I wrap my mouth around it.
“Ah, Rupert,” she mutters, her hand grabbing a fistful of my mane. I love how much she enjoys touching me, my mane, my fur—she’s always petting and stroking me, and it turns me on even more.
I play with the nipple fiercely, sucking and tonguing and ever so slightly nipping, until Peony is subconsciously rubbing her hips against me.
“Pants,” she finally manages to say, tugging on one of my horns. “Pants next.”
“Is this the ‘strip poker’ you Americans like so much?” I ask, peeling myself away from her to get back to my feet. I unbutton the front of my trousers, then reach around to remove the strap over my tail before pulling down the zipper. I can’t hide my massive erection as I drag them off my legs, but I hear no response from Peony.
When I stand back up, her eyes are riveted to my cock. Her mouth works, but no sound comes out.
So it’s as horrifying as I feared. I reach down to cover it, to grab my trousers and pull them back on so we can start over, but Peony lets out an annoyed grumble.
“Move your hand,” she says, pushing me out of the way.
No, she’s not horrified. She’scurious.
Obediently, I tuck my hand out of the way, letting her study me. I think this would be absolutely mortifying if she were anyone but Peony.
Finally, her eyes rise to mine. “Unusual,” she says, which feels like a grand understatement. “Can I touch you?”
“Of course.” I want nothing more than her touch on me. My cock pulses in anticipation as she wraps her small hand around it, and just the sensation…
I nearly crumple forward, overwhelmed. That hand feels nothing like mine. And oh, is it delicious.
“Self-lubricating,” she says thoughtfully as she strokes, from the base to the tip, right over the ring in the middle. I let out a helpless groan as Peony’s small fingers trail up and down again, just exploring me, and my tail thrashes the floor.
“Fuck,” I manage, right before it all comes out.
