Page 9

Ruby didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. But Slate nodded, his fingers sliding out of her with a slick pop that made her throb with emptiness.

He moved from the bed to stand before it. Ruby’s eyes fell to his stiff cock under his loincloth. He was at the perfect height. If she just leaned up, she could mouth at the fabric.

She bit her lip, waiting. Surely now, he would ask. He didn’t ask last time, but surely ?—

“I will leave you to your rest,” he announced.

Slate turned toward the door. Ruby watched despairing as his cock vanished from view, still heavy under his loincloth.

“Wait,” Ruby blurted.

Slate turned. She was shocked and dismayed to see the bulge was already going down. Did he only do it for her benefit?

“I…” Ruby eyed the wilting bulge cautiously. “I want to make you come.”

Slate made another trilling noise deep in his throat. “It is not necessary.”

Apparently not, Ruby thought as she watched the bulge continue to shrink. She wanted to back down, apologize for the smear of sweat on his skin, and try to find that bathroom again.

But she wanted it. And she hoped he wanted it, too. Not to mention it was the least she could do after how good he’d been to her.

“I know,” she said. “I just… if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

Slate’s tail flicked behind him in a way that reminded Ruby of an anxious animal. Then he stepped toward her, and the flick turned to a swish. Less anxious animal, more stalking tiger.

He loomed over her. His lips parted, and Ruby wondered if those fangs would nick her if he kissed her. He still hadn’t kissed her yet, and she didn’t know if she should be expecting it. Those fangs looked dangerously sharp.

Slate pushed her into the bed.

Ruby let out a squeak. Slate’s hand was splayed over her torso, so huge she couldn’t help remembering when she was sprawled over the ward stone. His hand had wrapped around her middle with such little effort. He could move her however he wanted, and she would be powerless to stop it.

It should have been horrifying. But the fear was getting smaller every time she spoke to him. Even lying helpless under his massive hand, the most she could muster was a cold tingle at the back of her neck. And it faded quickly as the hand trailed up to cup her breast once more.

He was watching her with that same intensity as always, but now there was a layer of curiosity under it.

He’s deciding what to do with me , Ruby thought. It was enough to make her poor clit stiffen once more, her hole throbbing around nothing.

Slate said, his voice low and silky, “I want your mouth.”

Ruby’s jaw ached at the thought of fitting around his bulge, which was hardening again under his loincloth.

“I can’t fit…” she trailed off, embarrassed.

“I know,” he consoled her. “You do not need to put it inside. You can use your lips. Your tongue. You can still suck.”

He unknotted his loincloth. Shadows wisped around his groin before dissipating into the warm air.

Ruby sat up and stared. He had been naked in the clearing, but she had been so nervous she didn’t get to appreciate it. Then he had been kneeling, and she was too busy thrashing on his tongue to pay much attention.

He was magnificent. Pale and strange, to be sure, but magnificent. His alabaster skin made her want to run her tongue over it. She wanted to wrap her hands around his curling horns. To have that swishing tail curl around her leg and squeeze.

And his cock…

Ruby’s mouth watered. She shuffled forward until she was sitting in front of it, her mouth inches away.

It was as intimidatingly large as she remembered. There was a rosy flush to the tip, which was new. Or maybe she’d been so busy staring at his knot in excited horror that she hadn’t noticed it last time.

“My tongue is only human-sized,” she said apologetically.

Slate laughed. It sounded like river stones dragging over boulders. “I would expect nothing more.”

“I’m just telling you,” she said. “So you don’t expect… I mean to say, I’m…”

Slate touched her chin. The touch was so soft Ruby’s words died in her throat.

“I am fully aware you are human,” he told her, sounding amused rather than annoyed as she feared. “You don’t need to warn me. Now, begin.”

Ruby let out an involuntary laugh. She gripped the base of his cock experimentally, just above the knot. Her fingers didn’t even fit around it. Never mind the knot resting below her grip.

She gave it an experimental stroke. It kicked in her hand, and she gaped as pearly liquid beaded at the tip.

“Mortal,” Slate said. “I asked for your mouth.”

“Right,” she said hurriedly. After a moment of panic that reminded her of the second before she started a spell she had never tried before, she pressed her open mouth against his cockhead.

It was… shockingly soft. Like velvet. It was also very cool, which she doubted was normal. There was a faint taste of salt, and when she moved her lips toward the center, the taste got stronger.

She licked hesitantly at the slit. Salt burst over her tongue, and she muffled a moan as a second bead of pearly liquid fed right into her mouth.

She suckled again. Another burst of salt. Her mouth pooled with saliva as she sucked harder, massaging the massive length with her hands.

Slate grunted. He sounded shocked, and Ruby hoped it wasn’t because she was bad at this.

She pulled back, considering. Then she stretched her mouth as wide as she could and tried to fit it around the head.

Nowhere close. But Slate’s hips hitched, and even though it did nothing but force her off, Ruby was pleased to see a chink in his self-control. The most she had seen him lose it was when he was gripping her knees and moaning as she fucked his tongue inside her.

She paused, remembering the blissful vibrations his moans had created against her. Then she attached her lips to his cockhead and let out a cautious moan.

Slate grabbed her hair with a moan. She couldn’t see how the moan could have caused any true vibrations, but she supposed he liked her noises. Back in the clearing, he had gripped her thighs harder the more she moaned.

She ran her tongue down his cool shaft, following a vein the same thickness as her pinkie. All the way down until she reached his knot. Then, after some consideration, she pressed her lips around the ridge of his knot and sucked.

“ Ah .” Slate’s head tipped back. The shadows wafting from his skull mask flexed. His claw stroked absentmindedly against her scalp, and Ruby shivered as she realized his palm could envelop her entire head easily.

He could make me do anything, she thought, and the words were a heady pulse between her legs. And still, he is only giving me what I can take.

Ruby licked and sucked, her hands moving over his cockhead now as she worked his knot. She could feel it swelling against her lips, velvety smooth hardness bulging bigger and bigger?—

“Mortal,” Slate repeated, strained. He tugged gently on her hair. “Lie back.”

Ruby pulled away, confused. “What?”

But before she could worry that she was doing a bad job, he pushed her flat on her back and held her there. His other hand reached to grip his cock, stroking it so fast his hand blurred.

“Oh,” Ruby said weakly. She craned her head to watch and was rewarded by a line of come splashing over her chin. The next rope hit her breasts, her belly, dripping over the hand he was using to hold her there.

That , at least, was warm. Ruby’s tongue darted out to taste it as Slate wrung the last few drops out. It was so salty she thought she should be disgusted. But she couldn’t stop herself from licking another taste off her cheek.

Finally, Slate sagged. His cock softened against his hand. But as he let go, Ruby saw it—his knot was still huge and hard underneath.

Ruby’s mouth filled with saliva once more. She imagined him pumping into her, filling her up again and again as she lay over the ward stone, limp and drooling.

Slate straightened. There was no sweat on his skin, and his chest had already stopped heaving.

He lifted his hand, and before he had finished flicking it, his loincloth was back in place.

The shadows around his skull mask stilled, and he was the impassive Bygone once again. Calm. In control. Untouchable.

He looked down at her, flushed and covered in come. For a moment, she thought he would say something.

Then he stepped back, bowing his head. “I will leave you to rest.”

“Wait,” she blurted.

He stopped. Of course, he did. For all he held her down, he stopped when she asked.

Ruby sat up, his come sliding off her torso and onto the coverlet. She winced. She would have to clean that before she could sleep.

“Do you really think we can do this?” she asked uncertainly. “Make it fit, I mean.”

“My brother assured me it is possible.” Slate paused. His claws twitched at his side. Then he reached out, and Ruby’s heart thumped as she waited for his hands on her skin again.

But it didn’t come. Slate waved his palm over her come-covered torso, and all evidence of their time together vanished. Her dress wove into existence over her skin, shadows solidifying into the dress she had been wearing before he came in.

Ruby touched her plunging neckline, which was now only damp with sweat. She was happy to be clean and clothed again, of course. But some part of her was upset, and she didn’t know why.

“Rest, little witch,” Slate told her. He turned to leave.

Ruby rubbed her sweaty skin, trying to shake off the stubborn feeling of loss. He had done something nice . So what if he hadn’t bothered to touch her?

“Ruby,” she called.

Slate paused at the door. He didn’t say anything, but his head tilted her way. Waiting.

“I like it when you call me Ruby,” she explained timidly.

Slate didn’t move. His bone mask glinted in the firelight.

“Rest,” he said. “Ruby.”