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Would that ease how violently his seed was ripped from him? It often felt like he was about to release his very soul through his cock. If she comforted him through it with her snug inner walls, would it not feel so damning?

“Ingram,” she warned, but the panicked hint in it was what caused his sight to open to the darkest purple he’d ever seen.

She looked pale, nervous... afraid.

He whimpered in need, but released her to dig his extended claws into his thighs to settle himself. He didn’t want her to be scared of him, but he was shaking.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped. “Please... touch me.”

Her eyes crinkled with uncertainty, before her gaze darted to his claws embedded deep into his own flesh.

“I want to. I want to ease you, Ingram.” She didn’t reach for the agony jutting between them. “But you’re too excited right now for us to do it like this.”

Was it because of last time? Because he’d flipped her onto her back and thrust against her chest?

He wished this desirous emotion didn’t grip him so cruelly. He wanted to be calmer, for it to not eat at him the way it did. Did other Mavka have this problem, or was it only Ingram that suffered so?

He thought she was intending to abandon him in this pathetic state, until she soothed her hand against his sternum.

“Can I try something? Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Anything.”

Right now, he’d say or do whatever, so long as she freed him from this.

He almost grabbed her in panic when she lifted off him. Emerie kicked her shoes and pants off, rather than pulling them up, and darted to her bag tightly strapped over his torso. He watched her as she pulled some rope from it.

Then she went behind him. His skull followed her.

“Can I have your arms?”

Although he was uncomfortable with the idea of being bound, Ingram still placed them behind him. She strapped his wrists to their opposing elbows, coiling the enchanted rope around his forearms to lock them together. Unless he wanted to rip his arm from his shoulder, he wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Just... listen out for Demons, or that Duskwalker, okay?”

Fuck, he was supposed tolistento their surroundings with his body in this state? He could barely register anything past his lust-filled senses, hyper-focussed on her sounds, her scents, the sight of her.

By the time her hands encompassed the head of his cock, he was so pent up that he whimpered. Even he could tell he was engorged, like every second longer he waited was punishment.

“You, uh, wanted something warm and wet, right?” she purred, her tongue dabbing at the seam of her lips.

With the fact she was kneeling between his now-spread feet, he didn’t think it was her pussy she was referring to. Yet, a Mavka could hope.

Beginning to stroke just the first half of him, keeping away from his latching tentacles, Emerie leaned forward. Then she opened her mouth, poked her tongue forward, and ran it from the groove just below his head, all the way up and then back over the top.

His clawed toes curled at the intense sensation of her tongue gliding over him.

“Youlickedme,” he grated, letting out an exhale of pent-up breath.

“Mhm.” She nodded for emphasis, licking at her lips.

He also noticed that her tongue had collected seed by doing so, and that she willingly drank it down, tasted him.

Emerie did it again, causing the muscles of his stomach to tighten. She squeezed the centre of his cock as she stroked, then she sunk the very tip inside her mouth. It was warm, damp, and her breaths ghosted over him like teasing waves.

His arms tugged, wanting her to go deeper. To sink her mouth down around him until she’d taken all of his throbbing, aching cock inside it – and probably down her throat too.

Had she not tied his arms, he might have pushed at her head to do so.