Page 55 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Her hand splays across Pye’s ribs. “Where is your mind, Lord Riften?”

Pye inhales to watch her hand rise with their chest. “With you. Always with you. I think of nothing else.”

Her lips part. He yearns for the softness of them, but his mind goes blank when her hand trails to the open flap of his pants. His cock twitches when Avirin teases the soft hair beneath his navel, following it down to his hardened length beneath the fabric. She curls her hand around him, and he makes a muffled groan, fighting not to rock into her grip.

Never has he been the victim of such singular focus. It is heavenly and intoxicating. Her curious eyes rove him and note every reaction to her touch. Every tremble of breath. Every twitch of skin. Every flex of fingers. Slowly, she delves beneath their waistband and closes her hand around them.

Pye shudders.

“You’re so warm,” she breathes. “So…firm.”

Her teeth scrape her lip, eyes turning glassy before she pulls him out of his pants. His cock springs up toward his stomach, flushed and rigid. Her eyes widen, and he knows where her mind has wandered. Where Samuel’s cock was smooth in that dark opera balcony, Pye’s shaft is ribbed at each inch like a thick corkscrew.

Carefully, Avirin slips her fingers between the ridges and squeezes until liquid desire beads at his head.

Pye hisses.

Her tongue glides along her lip. “Does that mean I’m doing something right?”

“You’re doing everything right.”

A pleased smile crosses her face. Pye wraps his hands in the restraints to keep his hips planted on the bed, but it does little to still him when Avirin guides her fist to the top of his cock.

“When your mind is with me,” she asks innocently, “how do we spend our time? How do we occupy ourselves?”

Pye curses.

“Are we strolling through the gardens?” she teases. “Are we sitting down to dinner? Or…” Her eyelashes flutter like the portrait of chastity. “Is there some other way you imagine me? Some other activity to fill our hours?”

Pye’s breath is stilted and raw. “Surely I have never been this cruel to you, my lady.”

“Oh, never this cruel.” Avirin bends down toward them. “You have been far worse.”

Then she takes the head of their cock into her mouth.

TWENTY-NINE

Pye

Stars burst behind Pye’s eyes. Avirin paid attention to their lessons. She drags the flat of her tongue down Pye’s length, pausing at the base to suck one of his balls into her mouth. With the tip of her tongue, she trails the ridges of their cock before she strokes them with her hand.

Pye’s chest heaves. All they can do is watch her mouth smear up and down their length, brushing their head and lapping at their slit. Their cock leaks into her mouth, and once she gets a taste, she squeezes tighter in search of more.

Pye’s head falls back, but that only encourages her. She parts her lips over his head and swirls her tongue, resting her chin in one hand while she works him with the other.

Pye whines a sound they have never made before. She’s so willing, so eager, so beautiful when she gives herself over to her desires. Pye wants to preserve that. Protect it. Honor it.

“I would like to hear your answer, my lord.” Avirin’s voice rumbles against him. “Detailed. Specific.”

There is no chance Pye has ever been this cruel to her, but gods, they could be. They will be, after they withstand this delicious torment and get their hands on her. For now, Pye has to wet his lips twice before his voice comes out without a crack in it. “I — think about you in all ways. But something tells me that is not the answer you’re after.”

Her hum vibrates down his cock. She takes their head into her mouth and bobs over it again and again. His fingers flex to reach into her hair, to curl the strands around his fist, to pull her off of him until she pleads to have him in her mouth again, but Pye is held in place.

“I think about you in the mud,” they grit. “Ruining both our clothes and watching gooseflesh spread over your skin. In the library, failing to read while my fingers find a place under your skirts.” He tries to control his words, but he has held them back for weeks, and the motion of her mouth is working all of them free. “Naked in my bed, tugging on the linens, leaving your scent on everything I own.”

Pye has fucked their fist to thoughts of Avirin for far longer than they should have. They have imagined her in every location, every state of undress, every position.

“I think about how long it will take,” they gasp. “How long you’ll hold out before you moan my name. Before you forget all your brilliant thoughts. Before turn you into a desperate, mindless mess for me.”