I hadn’t realized they’d started shimmering again. They’d dulled over the past year or so, probably a result of my declining mental health. Perhaps it meant that I was on the right path after all.
“You can touch them if you want,” I said, because he seemed hesitant. “I promise they won’t hurt you.”
Hiero gently traced a design of an intricate knot on my shoulder. It was the first tattoo Monica had given me, a loop without end, a symbol of our eternal friendship and loyalty to each other.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his warm lips to my skin. It was too much, the way he touched me with such reverence.
“May I worship you?” I asked.
“You may.” He lay back with both hands behind his head, inviting me to explore.
“Your skin is a lovely shade of brown,” I remarked.
“I never met my sire, but I suspect he was Red Angus. There are herds of them in the highlands.”
“It’s beautiful and so soft,” I said as I ran my hand over the rich umber skin of his shoulder and upper arm, feeling the muscles ripple and flex underneath my fingers.
“I have four stomachs too,” he said with a grin. “Well, one stomach with four compartments to be exact. I’m a very picky eater.”
“Me too. I only like sweet things.”
“So, I’ve noticed. How do you not get cavities with all the sweets that you eat?” he asked.
“Our saliva is highly acidic to break down the sugars.”
“Fascinating. Keep doing that. Your lips feel good on my skin.”
I continued to map the contours of his body with my hands and my mouth, lingering on his pierced nipples to flick them with my tongue and watch them pebble to a dark, reddish-brown hue. Going by the groans of pleasure he made, Daddy definitely liked that, something to note for later, if there was a later. No need to get my hopes up.
Get out of your head, Skylar, and enjoy the prize of a man underneath you.
I licked down the trail of hair on his abdomen, tasting the salt of his skin and taking in the scent of freshly plowed earth. His tail wound around my leg and the soft switch tickled my inner thigh whenever it brushed against me. He had a few jagged scars across his stomach that I traced with my fingertips.
“What’s this from?” I asked.
“Broken bottle. Back in my brawling days.”
“Is that why you wear chainmail?”
He nodded. “Doesn’t hurt to have a little added protection.”
I reached lower to stroke his heavy cock and found that his foreskin had a soft downy fur. I raised my fingers to my mouth and sampled the fluid that dribbled from his slit, viscous and tangy but not bitter.
“You’re not put off by it?” he asked, watching me closely.
“Put off by a huge, savory dick? No, not at all. You know some human cultures worship bovine creatures? The species is considered to be an earthly manifestation of the divine.”
Smiling, he touched my hair. “I like it when you worship me, fae.”
I sunk lower on his expansive bed so that I might nurse his beautiful dick, taking care to keep my pointy teeth behind my lips. The head of it was like licking the inside of a mouth, wet and slick with fluid. His length slid easily across my palate and tickled the back of my throat like a second tongue.
“That’s good, boy,” he said in appreciation as his hips flexed upward. I hummed, delighted to be praised. He rocked into me gently and I relaxed my jaw to take him deeper. My firstsexual partner had trained away my gag reflex when I was still a fledgling. I’d thought we were lovers, but he was really just a pimp, preparing me for resale. The memory of it was bitter but the result now was rather sweet, especially when the tip of Daddy’s long cock tickled my esophagus. I swallowed around his girth, eliciting a deep purr of satisfaction from deep within him.
“How’d you get so good at this?” he asked when I’d come up for air and was flicking the slit of his cock with my tongue.
“The fae used to have to suck their nectar directly from the blossoms, and some of the flower tubes were rather long," I told him. It wasn’t a lie, though the real reason was that men wouldn’t pay as much coin if you gagged on their dicks or cried every time they choked you. Aside from the rare exception, most wanted you to enjoy it. Lucky for me, I considered sucking cock an artform and took great pride in my skills. When it was a man like Hiero, the praise made me positively bloom.
“You make it look easy, pretty boy.”
