Page 33 of Sky and the Grumpy Troll

I reached for my cock.

“Don’t touch yourself.” Sky’s firm command cut through the haze. “I’ll take care of you. I want to drink you down. Just keep… fuck, just keep sucking me, just like that, that’s so good, you’re perfect—”

His hips stuttered. His fingers dug into the trolgar, the pressure blinding, too much and not enough, and he came with a moan that broke apart in his throat, spilling into my mouth. I swallowed and kept sucking, his thighs shaking on either side of my face.

He pulled back an inch at a time. His hands loosened on my horns, one keeping hold as he turned and slid down my body until he was pressed against my chest, panting, his face in my neck.

“You,” he said, “are incredible.”

He moved to kneel beside me, moaning as his fingers wrapped around my cock. I was so hard it hurt, and when his lips lowered over me, I arched off the ground.

“Come for me. You’ve been so good. Come.” And with that, he took me deeper than should have been possible, his throat flexing around the head of my cock as he gagged himself on me, sucking until I was bucking beneath him, writhing and gasping as my cock twitched between his lips, unleashing rope after rope of cum. And he kept sucking, not letting up while I was whimpering, shaking beneath him, as an aftershock of my orgasm made me spill more into his mouth.

I did not realize I was crying until Sky’s thumb brushed my cheek.

“Hey,” he said. The authority was gone, and what remained was only him, warm, close, his body pressed against mine under the stars. He kissed my cheeks, then my lips, settling beside me. “Hey. I’m here.”

“I am not… this is not—” The words would not come. The tears were not grief. They were the opposite of grief, the shock of something returning that I had given up on.

“You don’t have to explain.” His fingers combed through my hair. His lips pressed against my forehead. He held me with an unguarded tenderness, one hand sliding up to my trolgar point, where he stroked slowly, his warmth and kindness washing over me. I wrapped my arms around him and clung to him, because I did not have the strength to pretend I did not need it.

The stars turned above us. The embers glowed. Poppy meowed from her habitat, and Clover shifted on her tether, and we settled to sleep on this patch of dirt that Sky had complained about. Sky went still against my chest, his hand resting over my heart.

“I would like to note,” I said, “that you are exceptionally good at that.”

He laughed against my chest. “Was it too much? Sorry, sometimes I get a little carried away with the dirty talk.”

“No.” I tightened my arms around him. “But what is a cock sleeve?”

“A toy. It’s stretchy and fits tight around your cock so you can fuck it, enjoy it.” He wrapped a hand around my left horn, applying the slightest pressure to the trolgar pressure point.

“Hmm,” I said.

“Do you not want to be my cock sleeve slut?” He was teasing, but beneath it there was a vulnerability I might not have sensed if he had not touched my horn.

“I think…” I paused, biting my bottom lip for a moment. “I think that I would very much like to be whatever filthy thing you decide to make me.”

“You don’t want to be dominant, because you’re… bigger?” Sky’s voice had gone a little small, and it made me wonder if anyone he’d been with had allowed him the control he craved.

“Clearly you have the more dominant personality. I think we should go by that,” I said.

He pressed his face into my neck and exhaled, and I felt his smile against my skin. I reached over and hauled the blankets over us, because I was not ready to not be naked yet.

Chapter 11

Moerrven

As we approached the cozy cliffside village of Frostholm, I kept my eyes forward and a fraction to the left, because a fraction to the right, past the last row of houses, the land dropped away into the Greymere Gorge and the mountain road to Highmark beyond.

Or I assumed it was still visible, because my eyes were firmly focused on the little bakery next to the inn.

“Oh, civilization!” Sky sat up from where he had been sprawled across the wagon bench with his head in my lap. The movement jostled Poppy, who had been dozing on top of him. She chirped grumpily at him and went into her habitat. “Oh, good idea, Pops. Best keep you safely locked in your domain.”

I tried not to smile as Sky reached back and closed the door and double-checked the latch to make sure my cat was secure.

“Does this mean we get to sleep on a bed that isn’t the ground?”

“Yes, this is Frostholm,” I said. “A trading village. We can resupply and rest for the night.”