Page 14

I started washing lower, the hard ridges of his abdomen contracting from my touch.

Before I went too low and saw too much, I moved back up and started washing his other arm, then his shoulder, and along his other horn.

“So good, wife,” he rumbled out.

My heart hiccuped in my chest as I washed his face and ran the warm, wet rag along his brow.

I focused on his nose, even though I wanted to look into his eyes. The bridge was flat and wide, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled sharply and exhaled just as harsh.

Although his mouth was full, it looked slightly distorted because of his fangs and tusks. He even had a seam starting in the center of his upper lip and connecting with his nose, which was so very feline.

His brow was prominent, and when I looked into his eyes, his expression was so intense I felt it down to my marrow.

I heard and then felt the cloth drop from my hands, splashing into the basin of water beside me.

I murmured my apologies and felt my face heat on fire. There was another low rumble from him, which I was starting to realize meant he was pleased.

Exhaling slowly and closing my eyes, I reached into the basin of water to scoop out the cloth.

“Wash my legs, wife.”

I felt a tingle move throughout me and I opened my eyes, which was a horrible mistake seeing as I was right in line with his massive, long, and completely foreign-looking erection.

Although he would fit, I, of course, could only think about how I would be stretched to the brim, and he would split me in two, as he so eloquently put it.

I’m an adult. Treat the situation as such.

“Washallof me, Belle.”

The way he said my name was so husky that I was ashamed when the soft moan left me.

I snapped my focus to his face, noticing the way his eyes flickered from red to the normal deep brown I’d seen so far.

We held each other’s gaze for long seconds, but I knew it was because I was terrified that… I might like it.

“Go on,” he taunted.

I licked my lips, his gaze dripping to watch the act at the same time, wet the cloth once more, held my breath, and ran it along his lower abdomen.

I spent an ungodly amount of time washing the same flat, hard expanse of his stomach, and when I heard a deep chuckle come from him, I narrowed my eyes that he thought my embarrassment was funny.

So, while staring into his red, glowing eyes, I wrapped my cloth-covered hand around his erection. His grunt had a sharp slap of pleasure and pride filling me. The fact that I affected him this way gave me my own pleasure.

I dragged the rag up and down his length, my fingers unable to wrap fully around his girth, the feeling of his hardened ridges prominent under the strip of fabric.

“That’s it,” he purred. “My good girl.”

I sucked in a sharp breath at hearing that praise. I dragged my hand back down his length, felt the hard protrusion at the tip and found myself glancing down, transfixed at watching as I stroked him.

I twisted my wrist so I could get a better look at him, my pussy clenching and growing wetter as I ran the tip of my thumb over that nodule right at the crown.

He groaned and thrust his hips forward, pushing more of that monstrous erection into my palm.

I moved my hand back down, pulling at the foreskin so the bulbous head and seeping slit were revealed. I stroked back toward the tip, watching, fascinated, as his foreskin moved back in place.

But his cock was so big, so thick, that I could still see the slit, watching as cum steadily dripped from him, landing on his thighs, catching in all that thick, dark fur.

“My good, good girl likes to watch what she does to me, and likes to see all the seed I give her.”