MarloweTudor

This is the Grimoire of Emrys.

In the year when the moon eclipsed the sun, this tome was bound with shadows and soul.

To touch these pages is to bind yourself to my keeping.

Body and shadow. Heart and soul.

Mark this well.

This is no book of mere learning.

It is contract.

It is trap.

It is mine.

Sealed by Emrys of the Night Court, Keeper of Shadows.

You couldn’t believe you’d found the Grimoire.

It was even more impossible to believe that, after reading the stark warning on the first page, you had stubbornly, foolishly, opened it further.

It was as if the book had been waiting. As if it had called you.

The old gothic castle was silent, the library smelling of wax and dust. You’d heard the rumors. Visiting the Shadow Castle meant you had a chance to find the legendary Grimoire of Emrys. You’d risked it. Entered the magnificent castle from a door that was open at the back entrance.

Surprisingly, you hadn’t met a single soul. Nor had you planned to wander toward the library, but your feet had carried you there, to this desk, as if pulled by a string tied to your very soul. Stupidity? Perhaps. But now it was too late. You’d chosen to stay.

And so you stood before the desk, with the massive, throne-like chair behind it. Too big for you to sit... or rather hop on. Your palm lay flat on the Grimoire and with a soft breath, you turned it over and opened it. The heavy cover fell back with a thump and you winced because it was obscenely loud in the quiet room.

You prepared for the worst.

Nothing happened.

The pages were thick and velvety, spread open of their own accord filled with warnings, magic spells and sigils. The words seemed to pulse, the ink a living blackness that swam before your eyes.

Again, that should have driven you away. Logic, survival should have prevailed.

Turn back and run the hell away from this place, your mind said.

But instead… you felt warmth. Stay, your heart whispered.

A strange heat bloomed in your chest, spreading down your belly, then lower, warming between your thighs. You turned another page, eyes widening. There, inked in black and white, was a drawing. It was him. Emrys. The fae Lord.

Achingly handsome with broad shoulders and a face of sharp angles, eyes so emotional they seemed alive. Commanding, pulling you in. The longer you looked, the less it felt like paper and ink. It felt like he was looking back.

“Wow,” you whispered and leaned closer, eyes drinking him in; his powerful wings unfurling behind him, vast and dark, surrounded by claws. His cruel mouth was perfect. Before you could stop yourself, your hand moved, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, then drifting down to his lips.

You jerked back as if burned by fire. They had felt warm.

“You should not touch what is mine.”

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Husky and low as a growl. The candles flickered once then steadied. The hairs rose on your arms.

“Even after the warning… you still read. You still look. Touch.”

“Who—” you gasped, whirling around.

Shadows appeared in the corner of the room. swirling like ink dropped in water. A wind rolled through, even if the windows were shut. And then he was there, stepping from a black portal. Emrys.

Tall, unearthly, hair pitch-black, eyes too sharp to be human.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Gods... The drawing had not done him justice. He was taller, broader, more potent. His skin was a muted gray, his clothes black, blending seamlessly with the huge, clawed wings. A regal powerful body. Sharp cheekbones, pointy ears and a mouth that looked carved for cruelty.

Speechless and frozen, you watched as he approached, his booted feet making no sound on the Persian rug. The smell of him hit you next; a musky blend of night flowers, spice, and a masculine musk that went straight to your head. It made your knees weaken, your chest heaving.

“You were warned. Yet you opened the book. You read the inscription, studied my face. Foolish human.”

Your lips parted, but your tongue was a dry, useless thing in your mouth. Why were you frozen? Why couldn’t you command your legs to run? Was it him?

“It’s me,” he answered your silent panic. He moved closer, one clawed wing scraping along the floor, black and golden eyes roaming your face and body.

“Undo this right now,” you demanded, your voice stronger than you felt.

To your shock, he did. The invisible bonds holding you vanished and you jerked a little.

“There. Magic gone.” He gestured with his hands, a smile ghosting his mouth. “I’m surprised, though. I did not think you would come to me so soon."

“This is insane. People say you’re a myth.”

“People say many things. Humans have short memories and big mouths. That does not make me less real.” His gaze flicked to the open book, then back to your face. “You touched my Grimoire. You woke the binding. That is not a myth. That is a choice.”

“I did touch it and…I’m sorry.” You squared your shoulders. “But I certainly didn’t choose you.”

“You did. The moment you entered my castle, you accepted me,” he said simply, taking another step, forcing you back until the hard edge of the desk dug into your buttocks. Only a few inches separated you. “You were always meant to open my book.”

You chuckled, fingers curling against the rough oak. “You’re saying the most dangerous grimoire in the world simply allowed me to read it? That it opened for me? Wanted me?”

His smile vanished. Shadows appeared from around him, twisted and ropelike, moving in the air with a life of their own. More tendrils of living darkness seeped from the Grimoire itself, curling across you. Emrys spread his hands and caged you before you could flee, his palms slapping down on the desk on either side of your hips, his body leaning in close.

“No," he drawled against your lips. “I am saying I wanted you.”

So near. He was so near. Your eyes met his, vivid and fathomless as ink with golden flecks in them. Your pulse was in your throat, frantic, but not from fear. Something else was blooming under your ribs. Heat, hunger, a dangerous, thrilling kind of curiosity.

“And what happens now?” you asked boldly. There was no going back. You were caught. You’d storm through whatever happened. “You punish me for opening it?”

“Punish?” His claw traced the edge of the desk, so close that the air against your wrist prickled. The shadows followed the motion, trailing from his fingertip to wrap around your wrist. It felt warm and so soft and your whole body awoke in goosebumps.

“No, little thief. But I will claim what is mine. Curiosity has its price.”

His words coiled low in your belly, and you hated how much you ached for more. For the danger of the unknown. For him.

“And if I don’t want that?”

Emrys leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek, his scent warm, dizzying. The tendrils of shadow slid closer, higher. Two curling around your hands. Another, like a rope, slid up your calf, behind your knee, making you jolt. But the touch lingered, featherlight, fondling rather than grabbing.

“Oh, you do,” he murmured. “Your body already trembles for me. You don’t want to run. You want to stop thinking and succumb. You want me.”

He was right. You were trembling. A reaction you couldn’t suppress. Betrayal was in your own body, defying logic and causing heat to rise under your skin. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt, and there was that fluttering ache between your legs that left you raw and desperate.

“What say you, little thief?”

You exhaled and finally said, "I shouldn’t want this, but I do.”

His lips came down to yours, hand cradling your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. You let go, your palms flattening against his hard chest, feeling his muscles contract as you kissed. Lips brushing and merging as if pulled by gravity.

Your noses nudged softly when he deepened the kiss, his hand rising to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You responded, your own fingers sliding along the sharp line of his jaw, tilting his face to better claim his mouth.

Lost in the feel of you, Emrys devoured your lips, tasting and tasting, unable to have enough. He lifted you on the tall desk, pulled you harder against his chest, and breathed softly against your wet mouth.

"Open."

Your lips parted on a sigh and his tongue sank in, tracing the seam of your teeth before delving deeper. A soft sound left you before you surrendered completely, your tongues meeting in a hot, wet dance. Gently at first, then with a deeper rhythm before slowing to tender again.

Amid the frantic kiss, he laid you down on the surface, his shadow-ropes wrapping around your wrists, pulling them high above your head. Pinning them flat against the cool, carved wood of the desk.

More shadows snaked around your knees and calves, spreading your legs open just enough to make you aware of every hard inch of him pressing against you. Emrys kept kissing you, and you kept responding, your tongue tangling with his, your fingers clutching at his clothes, knuckles white.

Cold air touched you everywhere.

You’d been so drugged by the kisses that you didn’t realize he’d used his magic to remove your clothes. Every single stitch. You rested bare on the desk, nothing between your skin and him but the bonds of his shadows. They slid over you like silk, making you shiver.

Emrys pulled back from your swollen lips and stood between your spread legs, his wings arched behind him in a beautiful sweep. His eyes roamed over your naked body. He still couldn’t believe he had you. His mate, accepting him and his shadows, spread open like a feast for him.

Pouty, well-kissed lips, softly curved breasts, hard nipples, and the prettiest cunt weeping for him.

A snap of his fingers and he was naked too, huge and powerful. You gulped, your turn to stare. He was magnificent. A broad, sculpted chest, a chiseled stomach, thick thighs, and between them… your eyes widened at the size of his cock. Inhuman, thick, long and thickly veined, with a bulbous head dripping with pearly pre-cum.

But he didn't take you with it. Instead, he bent down and resumed kissing you, letting that monster shaft rest against your inner thigh, like a lonely beast. You wanted more. You wanted that crazy, huge cock buried inside you, stretching you, filling the void.

“So beautiful. Open and exposed for me,” he said against your lips, tongue flicking against yours. “You know you can still say no.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Tell me what you feel.”

“Heat… everywhere,” you gasped, the magic ropes feeling like his mouth, his hands on your skin. “Like you’re touching me in a hundred places at once.”

“Good. That’s exactly what I want. You thinking only of me.“

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he rubbed himself against you, his cock brushing your inner thigh. His wings adjusted, curling around the desk like a leathery curtain. Two new shadow-ropes slid up your belly, tracing your belly, then moved upward to the underside of your breasts. You moaned as they wrapped around them, pressing, lifting, jutting your nipples up.

“Hmnnnn… haaaa.”

Emrys suckled one delectable nipple, tongue teasing the tip hotly. Simultaneously, a shadow stroked and circled your other nipple, mimicking the action of his mouth before his lips moved to claim that one, too. Strong, veined hands brushed along your inner thighs, so close to where you desperately wanted him, but stopping just short of your slick pussy.

“I… gods—” you moaned. “You’re… warm…please… hnn...”

“Say it,” he demanded and bit down gently on a taut nipple, just enough to make you squirm and cry out anew.

“You’re making me wet,” you blurted, pussy fluttering for his attention, for anything he would give you. “I need more. Please.”

He smiled. “Good girl.”

Again, he crushed his mouth to yours, lips meeting hotly, breaths teasing before his tongue thrust in your mouth. You whined into the kiss, pulling your tongue against his while more shadow-ropes neared your thighs.

Finally, came the hot touch slid between your pussy lips, sliding up and over you in a single stroke. A teasing circle that made you cry out in his mouth. Emrys drew back, watching as his shadows caressed you.

Ropes held your limbs, others worshipped your tits, two more playing with your cunt. Two shadow-tendrils spread your outer labia, baring your glistening hole to his eyes. A place to be fondled, suckled, kissed, and fucked.

Emrys lowered himself, his wings arching to accommodate the movement. He bent his head and brushed his lips to your slick folds, kissing your pussy lips the same way he’d kissed your mouth. You went frantic, your body awash with pleasure. But you could do nothing but take it as his tongue lashed out, lapping up your juices, flicking your clit, and growling against your flesh.

“There,” he murmured, lips kissing your folds, his nose nudging against your clit. “Mine. My pretty, dripping little cunt.”

Another shadow rope returned, the bulky tip nudging against your pussy while the ones curled around your legs shifted, tilting your hips up, presenting you fully to him. Emrys growled, the sound vibrating through your very bones as his hands settled under your ass, lifting you to his mouth.

“You’re trembling,” he said. “Both your heart and your cunt. Don't fear. Every shadow is a part of me. When they touch you, it is me, little one.”

“I'm not afraid! I want you to fuck me. You—the ropes—whatever—just… hnn!”

Your words were cut off when a shadow-rope thrust past your tight entrance at the same moment his mouth fastened on your clit. You cried out, already teetering on the edge of rapture. Emrys could tell and never changed the rhythm, the shadow-tendril pumping in and out of your pussy in perfect harmony with the suckling and lashing of his mouth and tongue.

All perfectly coordinated, giving your pussy their full attention while the rest of the tendrils caressed your hypersensitive body. Flicking your nipples, fondling your neck, rubbing your inner thighs. Your whole body sang under the multitude of touches, coiling tighter and tighter until it exploded in the most powerful, convulsing orgasm of your life.

“Do you belong to me?” he whispered against your dripping cunt, his now glistening lips forming a smile.

“Yes… yes, I do!” you muttered weakly. “All of me… yours!”

Another deep growl and his mouth returned to your clit, kissing the swollen bud before suckling it back into his hot mouth. You shattered again, thrashing in his hold without any hope of escape.

At the same time, a second shadow joined the one already fucking your pussy, squelching inside with all your wetness, both of them stretching you wide, opening you with shallow thrusts. The ones curled around your breasts kept flicking your nipples, this time with tiny pulses of magic that made your toes curl in the air.

The pleasure stacked, overlapped, became an unbearable continuous wave. Little aftershocks rocked over you, tears of bliss in your eyes. You couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and another began. And yet Emrys kept going, pushing you further.

“Too much…” you sobbed, head thrashing. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, obscene sounds echoing as he lapped at your cunt in the silent library. “You’re built for this. Built to take everything I give you. Built to make a messy, pretty little puddle all over my desk.”

The shadows inside you pulsed harder, faster, until you were writhing against them, every nerve a live wire screaming his name. Emrys kissed around your swollen, well-used folds, around where two of his tendrils were fucking you deep, watching your pussy lips flutter and your clit throb as another peak rolled through you.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured in awe.

Breaths stolen, you wiggled frantically, hands pulling against the shadow-ropes not to escape, but to anchor yourself. Emrys held you steady, his mouth licking your clit slower now, same with the shadows inside you, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. He watched you, he always did, then placed one last, tender kiss on your hypersensitive clit.

At his mental call, the shadows drew back. The living ropes squirmed in your pussy and slid out, dripping with your essence, leaving your body feeling empty and needy. You shivered as the other ropes restraining you released, and easily rolled you onto your stomach. Your ass was lifted into the air, your face pressed against the open pages of the Grimoire.

A soft whimper escaped you when the shadows returned, this time from the book, curling around your newly freed wrists, coiling firmly like velvet cuffs. Binding you to the Grimoire. Another set curled around your ankles, keeping your legs dangling on the edge of the desk and wide apart.

Emrys moved, the heat of his chest pressing against your sweaty back. He tugged your ass closer, his hands curving around your hips to pin you to the desk. He covered you from behind, his massive, throbbing cock rubbing against your glistening pussy, lubricating himself with your juices.

“Comfy?” he murmured, kissing along your spine. “You look ravishing, little thief. But if you don’t like it, I’ll release you. Say the word and it all ends.”

Your body arched involuntarily. “No, don’t! I want them. I want you. Like this.”

“I’m all yours, mate,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Feel me.”

And then came ultimate heat and pressure, the broad head of his cock pushing inside. Despite all the foreplay and stretching, he was too much. The sheer girth and depth he claimed as he pushed inside left you whimpering into the Grimoire.

Emrys groaned and his hand found the back of your neck, holding you steady as he stayed half-buried in your perfect, tight cunt. It was a feat; his whole body trembled with restraint. Your pleasure was his priority. So he waited, fingers teasing your nape.

“Easy. Breathe for me,” he purred and his shadows pulsed around you, teasing, pressing, stroking. Helping you relax and accept him.

You released a half sob, half moan. “Emrys—”

“I know,” he soothed, kissing your temple as he sank another inch deeper, the stretch making you see stars. “I know it's a lot, beautiful. But you can take it. You can take all of me. Let me in. Let me all the way in.”

A slight roll of his hips and you took more of him inside you. And that was how it went. Him pushing gently, steadily. And you gasping, moaning, crying out, waves of sensation rolling, building higher and higher.

When he finally buried himself to the hilt, his balls slapping against your skin, you broke all over again, your walls spasming wildly around the fat girth stretching them so tight.

Emrys growled, his hips drawing back, his cock slick and shiny with your juices before snapping back home with a wet, solid thud. He fucked you slow and tender, tracing his teeth and lips along your neck, murmuring, purring, praising, and dominating you all at once.

“Fuuuck… that’s it… so tight for me, so hot. Tremble for me… gasp for me… lose yourself in me, little thief… all of it… mine.”

The shadows pulsed in time with his movements, their rhythm pushing you back into him, your bodies meeting with loud, wet sounds that filled the quiet library. Emrys gradually doubled his pace, his hands clamping around your waist, wings flexing and pushing him even deeper inside you.

“Emrys… I… oh gods… I can’t… it’s too much—I’m gonna break—”

All the shadows uncoiled from you completely.

Freed of the bindings, Emrys turned you over in his strong arms, gathering you against his chest, your breasts pressed to the hot wall of his torso. He scooped you close, his wings wrapping around you like a protective cocoon and kissed you hungrily, his cock impaling you right up.

You cried out into his lips and clung to him as he pounded up into you, this new angle making you feel even fuller, cockhead kissing your cervix with every deep thrust. Your lips merged frantically, breaths mingling, until you both exploded in a final, shattering release. Your convulsions milked him deep, jet after hot jet of his cum filling you up until it dribbled heavily out of your pussy and onto the floor below.

“It’s done,” he growled, his cock still spilling heat inside you. “Body and shadow. Heart and soul. You’re mine.”

“What… do you mean?” you whispered, dazed, trembling, body yielding in his embrace.

He kissed your eyelids, your cheeks, your swollen lips. “You always were the only one who could touch my Grimoire. The only one who could survive my shadows. The only one who could survive me. You’re not just my little thief. You’re my fated mate.”

“Fated. Yours…” you trailed off with a small, satisfied smile.

“Yes…” His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes met his, black shot with gold stars. “The only one who can open the Grimoire and love the monster who made it. The only one who can accept my shadows into her body.”

“I love the monster who made it,” you whispered. “And his shadows.”

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice breaking. “Say it while looking at me.”

“I love the monster,” you repeated, holding his gaze. “I love you. And your shadows.”

He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, the gold within was brighter. His hard mouth formed the most breathtaking smile. The shadows that had retreated now returned, curling gently around your arms and waist, stroking you with affection, massaging your tender spots.

“Hmmm, so soft…” you murmured, leaning into their caresses. “They touch me exactly where I need them to.”

“Because they’re yours now, too,” Emrys said, nuzzling your hair. “Extensions of me. Extensions of you. They will obey your command as easily as mine.“

You blinked. “But… I have no magic.”

He nudged your nose softly. “You didn’t. But the Grimoire has a way of rewriting truths. You’ll feel it soon when you want something, the shadows will answer, little thief.”

You pouted. “Don’t call me that. I didn’t steal anything.”

“Oh, but you did,” he rasped. “You stole my heart and now, I’ll be taking yours in return.”

Chapter Text

“You are afraid.”

Kithos One-Tusk did not need his bride to answer, he could hardly blame her, after all.

The humans and the giants had been warring over the same patch of fertile farmland surrounded by inhospitable mountain forest for generations.

But the new human king was no fool and neither was Kithos. War was destroying both of their peoples.

Unprecedented peace talks had followed, but the clan chiefs over whom Kithos ruled had been clear. A marriage would be their price.

Marriages were rare amongst the nomadic giants.

A marriage meant a permanent connection. It meant becoming kin.

You did not attack your kin.

And so a marriage it was.

Princess Sumina, the eldest daughter of the human king was short, even among her own human people. For Kithos, large even amongst his fellow giants, she came up to his waist.

She’d played her part with great poise, for which he admired her.

A feast had followed, with a loud procession eventually leading the princess and Kithos off to the bedchamber where both the marriage and the alliance would be consummated.

“Is that why you wouldn’t let the others follow us in?”

He smiled at her, aware that with his tusk it was probably more frightful than it was comforting. “Yes. And, in truth, our joining will require some imagination on both our parts. I wished to spare us both the embarrassment.”

“It’s not embarrassment I fear,” she said softly. She fixed him with a look. “They all think that I’ll die during the bedding, you know.”

He stared at her, disgust making his stomach turn. “Then why send you?”

But the answer was clear as a midwinter morning.

If she died, there would be cause to resume hostilities.

“Mosswalker’s Balls,” he swore. Children were rare and cherished amongst the giants; Kithos could not imagine being so callous with any child of his own.

“I’d been allowed to remain unwed because I was the heir,” she continued softly, nodding. “But my father’s most recent wife has given him twin sons. He has no need for me.”

An unfamiliar flare of protectiveness raced through Kithos.

“I will not hurt you. You certainly will not die by my hand.”

“But…you’re my husband,” she said. “I know it’s expected—”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not by me.”

Her eyes, a color somewhere between the amber beads his people treasured and the gold of aspen trees, grew shiny. “Oh,” she said softly. “I…thank you, Kithos.”

His name sounded sweet on her tongue.

“You are welcome, Sumina. Come. It has been a long day. Let us to bed.”

She nodded and began to undress, carefully hanging her garments on the rack supplied while he stepped out of the thick trousers that he usually wore for riding one of the great shaggy rhinos that served as both beasts of burden and mounts for his people. He drew his shirt over his head and hung it with the trousers, slipping into bed in his loincloth so as not to frighten his new bride.

She turned to face him, clad only in a plain chemise. She looked very fetching, her dark curls falling in tight coils around her shoulders, her brown skin reflecting the warm glow of the fire. In his loincloth, he felt himself stir.

“Is it all right if I wear this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She climbed the stairs on the other side of the bed and he held the many blankets back for her. She smiled at the gesture and slipped beneath them, letting him drape them across her legs.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she said suddenly. “It is not the prospect of bedding you that I mind. Only the idea of dying doing it.”

Kithos had been head of the clan chiefs for over a decade and a warrior long before that. It took a great deal to surprise him. Somehow, his diminutive bride had managed to do so.

“I don’t expect you to want me though,” she added, the resignation in her voice making his heart hurt. “I understand that I am very plain.”

He snorted without meaning to, cursing himself for it when she went to look away. He caught her chin with the tip of his pointer finger. “You misunderstand me,” he said, lifting the blankets on his side of the bed.

Her eyes went very wide. “Oh!”

He chuckled. “And you are not even naked.”

“Would you prefer it if I were?”

“If you are certain that is what you want.”

“Will you join me?”

“Yes.”

A few heartbeats later and they were both naked, looking over one another with undisguised interest.

She tossed her hair over her shoulders, giving him a sumptuous view of her plush curves, of the dark brown of her nipples and the curls between her legs.

“You are lovely indeed,” he said.

He anticipated her looking away and caught her chin before she could. “Do you see the impact that you have had?”

“Hard to miss,” she squeaked, drawing a laugh from him.

“Then know that you are wanted.”

She was silent for a moment. “You have a lot of scars.”

“Clan chiefs lead our warriors into battle.”

“These are from our arrows,” she murmured, her fingertips brushing over some of the scars on his chest.

Heat trailed her fingers, making a drop of wetness bead on the tip of his cock.

He grunted when her lips followed her fingers.

The gesture warmed him in a way that had nothing to do with the unruly state of his cock and he tilted his head down and, minding his tusks, kissed her softly on the lips. It was only their second kiss, but the first in private, and it lingered warm and sweet as fresh honey upon his lips.

“Will you trust me?”

She nodded.

“I am going to lift you,” he said. “When I do, take hold of my cock and guide it between your thighs.”

He felt her tense against him and he brushed the backs of his first two fingers against her cheeks. “I will not be entering you,” he assured her. “You need not fear.”

“I trust you.”

“Thank you.” With that, he lifted her, trying not to groan too loudly at the feeling of her warm hands wrapping around his cock and guiding it between even warmer thighs.

“Good,” he said, his voice a big more ragged than he would have liked. “Now lean back, and let me make you feel good.”

She did as he asked, her soft sigh when he began to touch her making his cock jerk between her thighs. He would not allow himself to so much as rock his hips. He needed her to know that her new husband was no brute. That he cared for her pleasure as he hoped they would come to care for each other.

He could take both of her breasts into one of his hands, lightly kneading and teasing her nipples to hardness as he reached between her legs with his other hand.

She cried out, back arching, one of her hands falling to his finger and bringing it to the spot she needed. Her hips moved in tight circles, her breath growing faster as adorable whimpers escaped her lips.

The scent of her need had driven him damn near distraction by the time she came apart for him, his name soft and ragged on her blush lips.

“Kithos,” she panted. “I…I want you to feel good too. Tell me how to please you.”

He reached down and pressed his cock against her dripping cunt, then closed her thighs around him.

They both moaned as she enclosed him, his own slick making him glide effortlessly between her strong, brown thighs. It took a moment or two to find their rhythm, but soon she was moving with him, clenching her thighs and lifting her hips in time with the slow rolls of his.

“Gods!” she breathed. “I like how you feel against me like this. How your…”

She faltered.

“Say it,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

“How your cock feels against me.”

He hissed out an oath. “I like how it feels too, Sumina. Between your thighs.” He caught her ear in his teeth. “Against your cunt.”

She whimpered at that and he was expecting her to come apart for him right then.

Instead she wrapped both of her small, warm hands around the head of his cock as it emerged between her thighs.

He bellowed, the unexpected pleasure catapulting him to the precipice with graceless speed.

“Sumina!”

She squeezed him, grinding her cunt against the shaft of his cock while her clever hands stroked him.

It was too much, too good, too unexpected.

He came hard, splattering his seed over her breasts, belly, and thighs.

They slipped into the afterglow together, her weight soft and warm against his body.