I might’ve had an answer if I could make my tongue line up with my brain. But only a helpless little sound emerged, like a confused goat. “Mraaah?”
Yes.
Brakkor huffed out a breath, which might’ve been a laugh, then rolled onto his back. Since I was very firmly connected to him and had no interest innotbeing connected to him, I went with him, and ended up more or less straddling him, his cock pressing against my belly as his fingers slid inside me.
Where had my shorts gone? I didn’t care.
The pleasure—the need—was coursing through my body, and the desperation finally showed up. I writhed against him, pressing kisses to his cotton-covered chest. He was still fully clothed, and I felt as if my pajamas had just spontaneously combusted.
“Joss, I need…” His words bit off with a groan when I arched my back, pressing his fingers deeper into my pussy, to reach for his cock. “Damn.”
My hand wrapped around his cock, as best I could through his boxers. “Tell me,” I rasped, stroking him. “Tell me what you need, Brakkor.”
It made me feel so good to be able to bringhimpleasure.
But Brakkor wasn’t Chad; he wasn’t doing this forhisgratification, much to my confusion. His fingers slid from me, then his hands were on my hips.
“What Ineed, Joss, is to taste you again.” He was pulling me up his body. “Come on up here.”
I realized what he was planning just as he lifted me, dragging my thighs over his shoulders as he moved down the bed. I ended up kneeling on either side of his face, my pussy dripping all over him.
Mortified, I reached for his headboard and pulled myself upright, my ecstasy momentarily dimmed.
“Brakkor, no!” He froze, and I looked down to see his eyes glowing with a strange green light, peering up from between my thighs. “It’ll kill you.”
He raised one brow in challenge, which should’ve looked hilarious upside down. “No, it won’t.”
“You’ll suffocate.” I tried to lift my leg to get out from underneath him, but he clamped his hand down on my calves, pinning me in place. “I’ll kill you.”
When he grinned, I felt his tusks scrape against my folds, and gasped at the sensation.
“Then I’ll die happy. Get down here, Kitten.”
This time, when he tugged, I—already half-drunk on pleasure—sank down on top of his face.
Oh.
It turns out that this position wasdelightful. I was able to control how deep his tongue and fingers went,Iwas ableto control how hard I pressed against him. Brakkor didn’t have space to slide his fingers into me, but that’s okay because did I mention histongue was ridged? Oh yes,delightfuldidn’t even begin to cover it.
When I came, I put all my weight on him so I could feel those ridges as deep as possible, threw my head back, andscreamed. My orgasm seemed to go on and on, with the tip of his tongue eking out as much pleasure as possible as his tusks brushed my sensitive ass and his nose nudged my clitoris.
At long last, I uncurled my fingers from the headboard—I swear I put dents in the wood—and exhaled, sated.
But it wasn’t until Brakkor’s fingers tightened on my calves that I remembered he was down there suffocating.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, and threw myself backwards, dropping along his chest. I heard him take a deep breath, and I began to giggle.
I mean, maybe it was because I’d just come so hard my legs had gone numb, or maybe it was because I was feeling powerful after sitting on his face, I dunno. I just know that suddenly, him sucking in great, heaving lungfuls of air after almost dying to make me come was just hilarious.
And he began to chuckle too as he scooped me up, flipped me around, and kissed me again. It was a nice kiss, one I felt through my chest and down to my toes. And after, when he tucked me up against his side, I felt…cherished? He hadn’t expected me to touch him in return, hadn’t hinted at oral sex or anything. Brakkor just seemed pleased—proud?—to have made me come so hard.
I fell back asleep without my shorts, and feeling bemused as hell.
My phone’s buzzing woke me, and I lifted my head to realize I was spread across Brakkor’s chest and dim sunlight drifted through the window. It was the kind of light that seem filtered through recent rain; I could hear that last night’s storm had passed, but the morning would be a wet one.
My lips twitched as I watched Brakkor sleep, his expression relaxed, his lips missing his habitual smirk. He was always so blunt, saying exactly what he meant, wearing that truth like armor against the outside world; no wonder he had to smirk all the time. I admired the way he didn’t have to worry about what other people thought, he just said what he meant.
Still, my fingers itched to touch his forehead, to feel it without the perpetual lines he wore when he was bracing against the world. He’d told me his policy with thehunt, catch, fuck, and I’d been happy to let myself be caught…could I do it again? Could I let down my guard and allow myself to take what he offered, even if I knew it could lead to heartbreak?
