Page 15 of Gaming with the Gargoyle in Hallow's Cove

"Tentacles, Gabe.And it’s not like I had anybetteroptions.” I look at him pointedly. “Anyways… Weren’t you gonna fuck me?”

"Absolutely, I was just making sure that you knew you were supposed to keep your mouth shut if you were going to say anything negative. The point of this is—you need to understand that Preston was a fucking idiot and any minute that he didn't spend worshiping your body and was instead in a different fucking city with someone else was absolutely asinine."

Roll my eyes but motion that my lips are sealed by zipping them. He clears his throat and flourishes his hands. Rubbing them together and smirking.

"Now, it might seem like a basic bitch move to take off your shirt first, but I would in fact, like to point out that I am currently sitting at boob level and it would be a missed opportunity for me to not get to stare at them this entire time so first I'm gonna take off your shirt."

His hands move to my hem, and he tickles my stomach with his claws. He might be keeping the mood light with his words, but his fingers trace a different story across my skin. The second an inch of skin is revealed to him, he leans forward and places reverent kisses on my squishy stomach, he presses in, and hums as if he's enjoying a delicious meal. When he gets to my navel, his tongue snakes out and dips inside, I giggle, and start to ask him what he's doing, until I remember that I'm not supposed to be talking about stuff so I clap my hand over my mouth instead. He pulls back and raises his brow ridges at me. "Very good, you disarmed my first trap, little thief."

He raises the rest of my shirt, and I'm not surprised when he takes his time, kissing across the mounds of my breasts. I might be self-conscious about other parts of my body, but I know I've got great tits. What is surprising, is that once he discards my shirt, it's not my breasts that he talks about first. Instead, his hands and gaze travel once again to my stomach, and I squirm a little.

When he said we were going to talk about my body, I honestly kind of assumed we were gonna be spending a long time, focusing on my breasts and my hips and my ass, which feels reasonable, I didn't realize that we were going to be spending any time on crappy places like my squidgy bits. My stomach is an area that Preston specifically talked to me about a lot. He would bitch at me about how I needed to be less stressed because cortisol caused stomach fat, and he would cite it as a potential reason that we weren't getting pregnant without any evidence.

So, when Gabe cups my little pooch between his massive hands, I want to recoil. One of his hands cups me in my lower back and keeps me in place.

"I want to start here with this slutty little stomach. So squishy, like it's begging me to bite into it and giving me a preview of how you look swollen with our young?" He squeezes his fingers and continues.

"I love these dimples you get when I press into you, I love how your body yields to me. " My face must be bright red now, but I can definitely see what he means. As he speaks, I start to see my stomach in a new light, how he at least claims to see me. My stomach isn't huge, but I definitely have that round little section, that bulge that you can always see when I'm wearing a dress. I've always kind of hated it, when I think about it as a preview of what I will look like pregnant, I'm kind of into it. Cause I realize that for the first time in my life when I'm pregnant, the changes in my body are going to be exactly what they are supposed to be. For once in my life, I'm going to gain weight and it's going to be what's supposed to happen. That my body will change shape and it will be because I am growing something amazing inside of me and that every bit that I grow means that I'm doing a good job. That I am growing and nurturing my baby. I smile as I think about how fucking cute pregnant ladies are I realize that I'm also going to get that adorable little rounded belly.

"What's that smile for?”

I smirk and look to the side. "I was just thinking that I'm probably gonna actually be pretty cute when I'm pregnant."

His smile is massive, one of those ones that he has where he smiles so wide that his ears push up, which is so fucking adorable. "You're gonna be cute, yeah. But you're also going to be fucking sexy as hell.” His hands move around to my ass and he pulls me closer so that he's speaking into my cleavage. "I am going to have such a hard time not fucking you constantly when you're pregnant with my young. If I thought today was hard, with you teasing me all day," he gives my ass a playful little smack. "I know it's going to be even worse when you are filled with my baby.”

He nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck, and whispers. "Will you smell different—when you're full with my youngling? You smell different when you're fertile. Did you know that Gwen? You know that I can tell when you are ripe and ready to be bred?" With aching slowness, he shifts his hands from my ass to the front of my shorts and unbuttons them, shimmying them down until they fall to the floor. He inhales through his nose, and smiles up at me.

"I could always tell when you were fertile, and that idiot was in the city, instead of here trying to fill you up every chance he had.” He moves his hands back to my ass, tucking them under the edges of my underwear and squeezing. "I'm not about to make the same mistake."

I shriek as he lifts me up so that I'm on the bed. He grabs my shorts from around my ankles and twists them, so that my legs are trapped in his hand. I’m lying on my back, completely exposed to him. He kneels down and nuzzles my core.

"Do you like these, little thief?" he asks, running the side of his nose across the seam of my panties.

"Not—not especially," my voice is shaky, because I'm careening from emotion to emotion. Every inch of my skin is aware where he touches me, of the temperature in the room, the currents of air that leave my ceiling fan.

With a dark chuckle he takes the edge of my underwear in his teeth and rips. I think the tearing sound of him destroying my underwear will be implanted in my brain forever.

"There she is, there is my gorgeous girl." He says. I can't even see him anymore, because my legs are in the way and he's speaking words directly into my pussy.

"I'm going to get back to all of the other parts of your body, but I think we need to take a minute to acknowledge this needy little girl. She’s so ripe and perfect for me, swollen and slick, begging for my monster cock to fill her."

He lowers my feet so that my knees bend and I open to him further.

“Look at you. You are just desperate to be filled, aren't you? Is your brain being silly? Is it taking away time that you could be filled by being insecure?" too thick fingers slip through me, breaching me as he circles my clit with his thumb.

“Maybe, we need to take advantage of neurobiology. Maybe we need to create some associations." He smirks and pumps his fingers into me, teasing my clit slightly. "Let's see, you have your stomach, legs, arms, your ass, that's at least four I think. Let's start with these legs.” Without untying them, he slips my shoes from my feet, tugging my socks off, he releases my legs, but only to capture my foot. His fingers tease my cunt, as he kisses the arch of my foot.

"First things first, your feet are so fucking adorable it’s not even funny. You have these round little toes and I love when you put polish on them that matches the season. It's like my own personal indicator that spring is coming. Nobody else gets to see that you have switched bright pink, but me, because it's never warm enough to wear sandals yet. But the second I see these fucking pink toes padding around your apartment, I know that season is about to change."

Is this man seriously trying to tell me that he uses my toes as a barometer? there is something so unreasonably precious about how much attention he apparently pays to my feet, of all things.

Moving up my leg, he kisses my calves, my knees, my thighs. Each kiss is slow and reverent and the noises he makes suggest he’s enjoying himself. I assumed there would be more talking, but instead it’s like he’s mapping out my entire body. He traces kisses over my freckles, connecting them like constellations. Between my legs, his fingers demand my pleasure as he worships my body.

Worships.

It feels so strange to say that, but that’s exactly what he’s doing. He whispers words against my body, so soft I can’t make them out, and seals them with a kiss like a spell.When his mouth reaches the apex of my legs, he replaces his thumb with his tongue, pumping his thick fingers into me and teases my clit until I’m squirming. Pleasure washes over me with each demanding lash he makes, and when hesucks?I’m done.

My vision sheets white and I scream and clamp down on his hand. He nurses me through my orgasm until I’m grabbing his hand.