I swallowed. “It’s nice, but I… I don’t know where to put my… everything.”
He was in front of me again, looking up through his white lashes and grinning.
“Well, honey, you’ve gotta tuck.” He nodded toward my crotch, then moved tentative fingers closer to mine. “Do you mind if I…”
When I blanched, he giggled.
“Hold still.”
Darby pushed my hands away, then reached into the bikini bottoms. The waistband stretched, and I gasped as he grabbed my cock and balls and palmed them. He spared them a glance, and his smile stretched.
“I have yet to meet an incubus who didn’t have a pretty dick,” he said. “You lot are Satan’s favorites, I swear.”
With a steadying grip on my hip, he maneuvered my junk until it was tucked back and pressed snugly against my taint.
To my surprise, everything stayed put as Darby withdrew. He patted my side before stepping back to survey his handiwork. I couldn’t see what he’d done, but I felt secure. In more ways than one.
“Does Becky like it?” he asked.
I had to replay our conversation to deduce who and what he meant.
“My dick?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
Beck and I had done a lot over the past several days, and I certainly got my share of enjoyment out ofhiscock. Couldn’t get enough of it, in fact. My lips and tongue tingled at the memory of holding him, warming him,drinking him down. I felt connected to him like that, and his touches were always so gentle. He spoke softly while caressing my face and body until it seemed like I was floating. It was the same sense of weightlessness I experienced in my silks. And I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop marveling at how another person could give me that.
But it didn’t really answer Darby’s question, so I shrugged.
“I think so?”
“Mmhmm.” He bobbed his head, then took my hand and led me toward his vanity table.
His room wasn’t much bigger than mine, but it was far more crowded. Plush toys and other gifts from his fans littered every available surface, and his wardrobe had expanded far beyond the basic metal rack and dresser Maslow provided. Clothes upon clothes spilled out of drawers and formed towering stacks on the floor. Everything was folded and sorted in a way that I was sure made sense to Darby, but it looked like a minefield to me.
Squeezing between pillars of garments, I spotted my reflection at last.
The swimsuit shimmered emerald, its plunging neckline designed to flatter curves I didn’t have. Instead, it clung to my flat chest and bared the pale skin stretching down past my waist to where my genitals were thoroughly obscured.
“Well?” Darby stood slightly back so I had full command of the mirror. “What do we think?”
I turned to one side then the other, noticing the way my hair draped over my shoulders and how the tight bottoms curved along the cleft of my ass. My work at the Dollhouse had accustomed me to skimpy clothing, but this wasdifferent. Something about the shapes and the lines the bikini drew on my body…
“I look like a girl,” I said in a wavering voice.
Darby came closer and rested his hands on my waist. As he looked around me at our shared reflection, he smiled. “The best of us can be both.”
I examined myself again, this time skimming my hands down my chest. What would Beck say if he saw me like this? The bra-like top and panties were reminiscent of lingerie, and that thought made goosebumps prickle my skin.
Darby had moved away and called to me over his shoulder. “Don’t worry; nothing’s changed. You’re still a very pretty man with a very pretty dick.”
I faced him just in time to catch the folded towel he tossed my way.
“Grab a hair tie and some shoes.” He directed me toward a mountain of footwear in the corner.
Another knock rattled the door. Darby stomped over and yanked it open to reveal Colt leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.
“You know better than to rush me while I’m working, asshole,” Darby sassed. “I add five minutes every time you pester.”
