Page 54 of A Siren Song for Christmas

“But what do you want me to fuck you with first?” Several tentacles wrapped around Trent’s waist, lifting him slightly from the bed. He slipped a hand beneath Trent. Slick fingers pressed against his rim. “Do you mean with my fingers?”

He slid a finger inside Trent. Just the tip. Then Malachi added another, teasing his rim. “Is this what you crave? To be fucked by my fingers?”

Trent shook his head from side to side.

“No?” Malachi frowned in mock confusion. “You don’t enjoy this?”

“I… No… I mean, yes… I enjoy it… But…I?—”

Malachi smirked. “Hmmm. I think you do enjoy it.” Then he stopped. “But I can’t go deep enough with these, can I?” He withdrew and held up his webbed fingers. “If only I had human hands, I could shove each finger deep inside you. But this webbing does get in the way.” He sighed and tilted his head to the side. “I’ll have to think of something else to fuck you with instead.”

Then suddenly, tentacles lifted Trent onto his front, on his elbows and knees, angling his arse into the air.

One tentacle slid around his chest and tightened. Another wrapped around his stomach and waist. Tentacles glided down each arm before looping around his wrists. Another two encircled his legs, tugging them apart, opening him up completely.

Trent wiggled, gasping and moaning, knowing he couldn’t escape the tentacles’ hold on him.

Lips pressed against his spine. “Like that?”

“Yes.” Trent thrust his hips forward, but his hard cock met nothing but air. If only one of Malachi’s tentacles would give his dick a little attention.

Malachi chuckled. “Now what were you requesting I do?”

“Fuck me!” Trent cried out, struggling against the tentacles. “Fuck me, please!”

“That’s right.” Malachi stroked a hand down Trent’s flank.

Trent hung his head. His whole body trembled and throbbed with pent-up need. Trent glanced behind him.

“And what did you want me to fuck you with, again?” Malachi knelt behind him. He tapped a finger against his chin, as if Trent weren’t naked and begging, arse up in front of him.

“I want your tentacles!” Trent said, voice hoarse. “Your tentacles and then your cock. Like you promised! You promised!”

“Oh.” Malachi dropped his hand. He smiled, a wicked smile that showed his sharp teeth. “Was that what I promised?”

Trent nodded. Then he gasped, body tensing. The tip of a tentacle pressed against the base of his foot. It drew a circle, going round and round and round. Then it slid up the inside of his calf, his knee, his thigh, and over his balls and towards his hole. Then it kept going, continuing up his back.

Trent struggled against his restraints. “Please!” he cried out. “Please!”

“You really are lovely when you beg, my sweet.” The tentacle kept going higher and higher up his back. “But my tentacle needs to be wet first. It can’t fuck you dry. I know it has a damp and slippery texture, so you think it will go in easily. But I want to fuck you deep. So it will need to be wet. Trust me on this.”

Trent shivered, and the tentacle slid over his shoulder and along his jaw. It stopped at the corner of his mouth.

“Now open up and get my tentacle good and wet so it can fuck you.”

Trent opened his mouth. The tentacle pressed inside. Trent closed his lips around the tip, sucking it. It pushed in further, filling his mouth.

“That’s it,” Malachi encouraged, voice low and deep. “Good and wet.”

Trent closed his eyes, swirling his tongue around the pulsing, slightly salty tentacle.

Then Malachi pulled it out. The wet tip slid along his lips before retreating.

Anticipation sang through his veins. He tried to push his arse back. But the tentacles wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t move. Hewas exactly where Malachi wanted him. Malachi’s hands gripped his arse cheeks and held him open.

Trent held his breath. Then the spit-wet tip of the tentacle probed his entrance, fluttering against it. Trent clenched.

“Relax for me, my darling.” The tip circled his rim.