"I trust you,” she whispers, repeating those words once again.
Gods help me. I will follow her to the ends of the earth.
As the fire crackles and casts flickering shadows across the room, I continue my reverent exploration of her body—mapping every curve and angle. Then finally, I use my tail to push her dress to the floor.
I let myself take her in with total, undeterredadmiration. My hand smooths over the funny little patch of curly hair that points toward her sex.
“Open.”
Her legs shift, giving me a perfect, undeterred view of her glistening heat.
Fuck.
My tail moves forward, wrapping around her ankles as I watch her arch. She gasps as my thumb grazes the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her eyes flutter closed, a fresh flush painting her cheeks a rosy hue. The room is filled with the heady scent of arousal, mingling with the crackling fire that casts dancing shadows on the walls.
I lean in to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all the longing and desire I've held back into the fervent meeting of our mouths. The power of the moment sends shivers down my spine.
With practiced ease, I divest myself of my own pants, letting them fall to the floor in a forgotten heap. The cool air kisses my heated skin, but it's nothing compared to the scorching gaze she directs at me.
Heat, blessed heat, after an endless season of cold.
Then I cover her body with mine to kiss her again. Her neck. Her shoulders. One for each freckle. She gasps at my onslaught, writhing against her restraints.
“What do you prefer, mouth or fingers?” I murmur into her ears. The peaks of her nipples scratch against my chest.
“Fingers,” she breathes, decided. Unapologetic. Gods, if I’d known she’d be decisive in this moment… my grip tightens.
Bringing my hand back to her curls, I trace the curves where her thighs meet her pelvis. And then, I seek out her warmth. The slickness coats my fingers. I take extra care to watch her movements. I look for where she takes a sharp breath, and what makes her squirm.
“Are you trying to torture me?” she chokes out after a second.
“You, my lovely Arlet, do not get to dictate how fast or slow this moment passes,” I growl. “And right now, you are doing so well.”
She freezes, and then a fresh wave of slickness coats my fingers.
“Nisera Hhalen,”I murmur. “Beautiful woman.”
She beams, and then I reward her by inserting one finger. She arches up, crying out.
Hmm. Sensitive. So beautifully sensitive.
I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
Then I use my thumb and finger to work. It only takes moments, for how tightly she was wound, for her to come apart around me.
I feel it. The way she flutters and dances. The shift in the air.
The feeling of guilt doesn’t come, leaving me free from the pain. I just look at her, mouth parted.
I kiss her again. Fiercely. Our tongues tangle. She bites me. I groan.
“Again?” I ask.
“Yes.”
It turns out that her body is made for mine, because I barely have time to insert a second finger before she spasms again.
She comes so hard she goes taut as a bow above the bed. My chest floods with pleasure. My cock strains against my under shorts, and I shift against the bed, enjoying the little bits of friction I can glean.
