Page 18

Story: Beak Performance

“In terms of dates, this is actually one of the best I’ve ever had.” He crowed with laughter, then cringed away from me, bringing a few inches of space between us.

“Sorry. I know it’s not a date, and the cawing”—he waved his hand in the air as if to shoo away a flock of bothersome birds—“happens every now and again.”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, trying not to let on how much I hated the distance between us. “It feels like a date to me. We had a pleasant conversation and a couple of beers. We’re cuddling.” Heat spread across my cheeks.

Crap.

“I like the cuddles.” The smile was audible in Max’s voice as he looked at me from under his dark lashes.

“Me too. Can we…”

“Cuddle some more,” he finished my sentence and held his arms out to me.

In my eagerness to get closer, I somehow collapsed and landed on top of him. Our heads bumped together rather violently.

“Oh shit, Max! I’m so sorry,” I rambled, struggling to get up and inspect his forehead to see if I had hurt him. “Are you—”

The hands cupping my cheeks and the warm mouth slanting over mine stopped me in my tracks.

This is a bad idea.

My inner voice tried to reason with my body and my heart.

Screw your morals, they quipped back, as my fingers dug into his hair and pulled his lips closer.

We opened for each other simultaneously, tongues meeting in the middle.

Max tasted of the winter sky, of the first snowflakes tumbling down to earth and blanketing everything in their ethereal beauty, and of something exciting I had never tasted before.

Magic?

It was then that I directed my attention to the body sprawled out under me, our legs tangled, his calf hooked over mine. I could make out the unmistakable sensation of a hard dick pressed to my hip.

Shifting to get our bodies aligned, I rubbed myself on him. I wasn’t proud of it, but I was desperate for some friction. A softsigh escaped me when an unfamiliar taste suddenly burst like bubbles on my tongue.

A waving mass of darkness and feathers cocooned us, it was there one moment and gone the next.

I whimpered against his lips and forced myself to break our kiss. His fingers darted over my forehead.

“Are you okay?” Max palmed my cheeks, scrutinising me intently.

“I am…” My hoarse voice showed how turned on I was, and I hated myself for it.

This is so weird and new, and I only think with my cock!

I tried to sit up, but Max held onto me, keeping me in place on his chest.

“No,” he whispered and kissed my brow. “Stay. Please. I’m sorry, I know the Nachtkrapp can be a bit much.”

Doing as he asked wasn’t my proudest moment.

“The Nachtkrapp. That’s the guy with the beak, right?” I said, distracted by how badly I wanted his kiss again.

“Yeah.” He hummed, brushing the hair off my face. “And the one with the shadow tentacles.”

“The what?” I asked, a soft moan escaping me when he ran a hand up my back and over my shoulder.

No, not a hand. One hand stroked my face while the other splayed across my shoulder. A shadowylimbappeared in my field of vision.