Page 21
Story: Small as a Mushroom
"Such a good size," I murmured as I felt the thick, hot meat in my hands.
His fingers were on my jawline, tipping my chin up.
"You are a remarkable woman," he murmured. "So strong. So intelligent."
I was caught by the brilliance of eyes that saw me.
He had seen through the dirt and dust, through the circumstances of my forced profession, and he had seen me, the me who had hidden in the fields, lurked in the libraries, and stained herself with sweat and mud to get through each day one by one. He saw beyond the calluses on my heart. He saw how I made myself small to survive.
He saw my strength.
He wanted to experience my wildness.
I let him feel it a little, with a gentle squeeze.
He grinned and leaned down, his wings closing in around me to hug me close to him as his lips found mine with a tender touch. He kissed me softly, gently, and I was consumed with the sensation of his feathers brushing against my back, his lips parting mine as his tongue slipped into my mouth, his need throbbing hard and hot in my hand, twitching with his unabated desire for me. He started by just tasting me, teasing me. He moved his lips against mine in a strange way that caused heat to flare between my legs, and as his tongue circled around mine,I realized he wasn't just kissing me, he was giving a preview of what it would be like for his face to press between my legs.
I slid my hand gently along his length, and his hips moved backwards, as if to pull himself out of my grasp.
I gripped hard.
He let out a little cry into my mouth that was a mixture of a gasp of pleasure and distress all at the same time.
"Strong hands," he gasped as he broke off the kiss.
I released my grip, just a little.
"You're not trying to escape me now, are you?" I asked, loving the feeling of power his reaction gave me.
He chuckled, deep and low, and his feathers brushed over the bare skin of my back again. He trailed his lips along my jaw, brushing them against the soft skin.
"The only place I want to escape to is between your legs," he murmured.
He then took my earlobe between his teeth, biting it gently as his tongue swirled around the bottom of it.
I let out a moan as one of his hands trailed up the inside of my thigh, finding the bottom edge of the very short dress I had on. I slid my hand up and down his length, and his sharp gasp made my thighs quiver.
"I can think of a better use for your mouth than talking," I said, releasing his maleness and dragging my hand up his body until I was threading my fingers through his hair.
Then his hands were around my hips, and he was lifting me up in the air. I let out a gasp as I clung to his shoulders. He effortlessly carried me across the room, back towards the huge bed. He didn't take me there, though. He walked past it and set me down on the edge of a table that was familiar. It was the same table I had gotten a massage on. It was padded, and at the perfect height for him to line up with my hips.
He set me down so my rump was on the edge of it, my legs dangling down off the edge, and he knelt down in front of me, between my legs.
I parted them, and his hands ran up the insides of my thighs, his fingers sending shivers of anticipation through my entire body, like an electric firestorm of raging, unadulterated urges. Then his mouth followed the path of his hands, and I leaned back, my hands going to the table behind me, and spread my legs just a little bit wider.
"No underwear," he chuckled.
"What did I say about your mouth?" I asked.
His breath was hot against the hair between my legs, and I could feel liquid trickling from me, just enough to tell how eager my body was to make this connection. Then his fingers were parting my hair, and his mouth was on me, and my back was arching, and the sound coming out of my mouth had nothing to do with control and everything to do with the wildness that lived within my heart, aching and determined to break free.
He was licking and circling, tracing the memory of his mouth in the corners of my flesh as he found his way through every fold, exploring the hidden depth of my pleasure as he stroked his tongue along it, teasing the small nub of a tip that extended beyond the protective flesh of my nether flower. He slid one finger in me, and I rocked my hips as he explored, finding the small spongy spot inside of me to stroke in time with the movement of his tongue.
I didn't last long.
I found my peak in a sudden, crashing explosion, my thighs quaking as I squeezed hard with the rolling waves of it.
"Strong down here too," he murmured as he slid his fingers out of me.