Page 66 of Tempting Fate

Or, like, my mouth. My cunt throbbed. “Oh, there are so many other options.”

His eyes flared with interest, but he sighed, head sinking deeper into the pillow. “It is meant to be functional only. It is not a touch for lovers.”

Lovers.

My chest clenched. A swarm of butterflies took flight in my stomach. I cast a frantic gaze around the room, as if expecting to see an actual elephant, its big, solemn eyes on me, trunk gesturing between us.

No, elephant, you’re not here. “I know this is just functional, and I’ll respect whatever you want. But I don’t want to hurt you.” I bit my lip. It would be wrong to keep this truth from him now he’d made the distinction. “May I be honest with you?”

“I would prefer it.”

Oh, that flutter in my stomach was trouble—but Mum hadn’t raised me a coward. I focused on the bridge of his shallow nose, close enough to be looking into those crystalline eyes, but not quite. “I enjoy touching you.”

“You do?” His ridged brows raised so high, they almost met his adorable little horn-nubs.

“Of course I do. I’m not shaa’ith. I can’t detach myself from this like they probably can. No matter how professional I try to be, this is intimate.” My heart pounded so strong and hard I swore he should hear it.

God, would he feel uncomfortable at my admission? Be creeped out?

He should be.

But he mentioned lovers, not you.

“Why would you enjoy touching a cock?” he asked, voice all genuine bemusement.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, my sweet, innocent kitten. “Why wouldn’t I? Dicks are fun.” I got why this was serious for shaa’ith, a thing in their lives they shouldn’t have to go through. I got why, for them, it needed to stay clinical. But I wasn’t shaa’ith. I was human—and having very human responses.

“They are… fun?”

“Yes, Airi, fun.” Don’t say anything more.

His dick throbbed in my firm grip, tempting and insistent.

“See? Like that.” I locked my eyes on his as I peeled my hand off his stiff length and licked a long, slow stripe up my palm, and again, until I was satisfied. This time when I gripped him, my hand moved in an easy glide. “Better?”

In the quiet, over the sound of slicking flesh, he gasped, “Yes.”

The word vibrated through me, stripping me of my senses. Fuck, the way my hand slid over him now, the way he moaned and writhed.

“Tell me. Please, Marni, tell me what you like.”

Don’t answer. No matter how much he begs.

But, damn, he begged so sweetly. “Dicks are hot and hard, kitten. And this”—I stopped under the swell of his crown, squeezing tight—“tells my body just how good it would feel.” Did I say that? Oh god, he’d be horrified. Offended.

His breath caught on a whimper. That delicious length twitched again as if begging for more. His voice lowered to a husky purr, deep and insistent. Seductive. “Do you mean…?”

Our eyes locked, chests rising and falling in sync with each other.

He’d gaze at me with that sense of unbridled wonder as I sank down onto him, I knew it. “Mhm, I do indeed.”

“Tell me more. Please.”

If I started talking again, I might not stop. “This is meant to be functional only, remember,” I croaked, barely a whisper, a pathetic attempt to re-draw a line we’d already crossed.

He spoke in gasps. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll finish without you even touching me.”

Fuck. Fuck, I wanted to see that. “You mean my words turn you on? Make you feel good?”