Page 8 of Tattooed By The Elf

“Candor? What are you a fucking king? Prince?”

“We call it something different, but for the sake of time, yes.”

I spread her legs wider so I could watch her body prepare for me. Slick was everywhere, making it nice and lubricated for me.

“I’ll explain the way my anatomy works.” I said inching forward.

“Cock, dick, even erection. Not shaft or penis. Please don’t make me regret this.”

“What do you prefer, wildflower? I’ll tell you whatever you need to hear to get you off.”

She swallowed. “Dick…”

“Where would you like my dick, little one, hmm?”

“Inside my pussy.”

“I like cunt.” I used my shaft to stroke her clitoris.

“That sounds dirty.” She gasped at the contact.

“Much like dick, hmm?”

“Point… proved…” She was panting.

“Well, when my more dick slides into your cunt, the moonflowers raise to press into your walls to fill you. Feel?” I inched inside her and her eyes widened. “Did I forget to warn you about the vibration? It’s how those flowers fill your dripping cunt fully.”

“They’re going to make me explode!” She shouted.

“No,” I groaned, arching inside her. “They’ve attached to you like a suction cup. So when we move, I rocked inside her and her moans immediately followed. “There’s a tighter seal. It prevents my mate from breaking free during a rut.

“Your eyes…”

“Yeah… I feel them.”

“They’re silver, and bright.” Brooke closed her eyes. “You feel so good.”

“No, wildflower, you feel good.”

I leaned over, angled her head upward so I could kiss her full mouth. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I slid my hands into her wild curls. I moved back and forth inside her, angling my strokes downward where she seemed to favor.

Her canal was so warm and wet, welcoming me with every stroke. Slick made it difficult to not come prematurely. Like oil, it made the experience slippery. I glided inside her as if she was made just for me. And I thought it to be true, but only that mark could confirm it.

The sound of our rut echoed off the walls, permeated the air, and pulled me further into the act. She was beautiful as she laid there and took everything I gave her. Her face contorted as pleasure assaulted her. She was so caught up that her moans and cries were silent huffs of air escaping her mouth.

“You were made to take all of me, wildflower.” I said.

“What?” She said. “I can’t understand you.”

“You feel so good, almost as good as you taste.” I continued. “I can’t wait to see you take my seed. You’ll do that for me, yes?”

“Saheime… English, please.”

“Say… yes.” I groaned out.

“Yes! Please!”

“You want more? For me to lose control inside you? I could let go and show you exactly what you do to me.” I said.