Page 16 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 15

CALLA

I’d already come twice, but the sight of Vos’s sharp teeth and the ministrations of his tentacle’s delicate suckers sent me careening back toward bliss. He held me so tightly, I couldn’t move a muscle except to roll my head back and forth across his chest and dig my nails into his thighs.

“Vos,” I pleaded. “Please…”

“Please what, my Calla?” he asked, his lips against my ear. “Tell me what you want.” His suckers released my clit and brushed against it instead. Teasing. Tormenting.

My building orgasm waned. I almost wept. “I want to come. Please.”

His tentacle returned to my clit, sucked at it a few times, then released it. I whimpered.

“Say my name,” he commanded. “Tell me you want me to make you come hard.”

I struggled against his grip because feeling so helplessly restrained aroused me more. He seemed to understand, because he didn’t budge at all, and even tightened his grip a little.

“I want you to make me come hard,” I rasped. “Vos, please . Make me come.”

He stroked himself more quickly. I watched every move, memorized every detail of his beautiful cock.

Its head was thick and curved, with a prehensile tip that moved and a collar of tiny frills that hadn’t become visible until he was aroused. Undulating ridges ran down its length, also lined with tiny frills that I imagined would make every thrust so much more pleasurable for me. His bioluminescence pulsed under his skin, the patterns wild and racing along with his heartbeats. The slick lubrication that beaded from his skin smelled sweet.

Lavender precum began to drip and then trickle from the tip of his cock. It shone with the same soft glow as his bioluminescence.

Oh gods , I thought, nearly delirious with need. Even his cum glows .

His tentacle latched onto my clit and sucked.

Pleasure and heat swept over me. I screamed, bucking my hips uncontrollably, but his grip held me still. I wailed Vos’s name over and over as I fought to get away from sensations that terrified me with their intensity. He kissed my hair and murmured words that in my haze I could not understand.

Gods. Gods .

Vos .

I shuddered. “Please, Vos. I can’t take more.”

“You can,” he countered.

He had no mercy. His suckers plucked at my clit until I sobbed with pleasure and desperation. Only then did he release my swollen clit in favor of stroking my slit lightly with the tip of his tentacle.

Gasping for air, I tried to reach for his cock. “Let me.”

“No.” He nicked my earlobe with one of his sharp teeth. I trembled in his arms, caught up in the pleasure and pain of that little wound. “Watch,” he told me.

It was torture being unable to move as his tentacle did what I longed to do with my hands, my mouth, my pussy. I squirmed, too aroused to feel embarrassed by how many times I gushed as he stroked himself. My arousal continued to build, and he showed no signs of reaching his own release.

It took me way too damn long to realize he knew it was torture to watch, and he was doing this on purpose. I’d played with him earlier, goading and teasing. He must have decided turnabout was fair play.

Apparently Vos liked this kind of game. That didn’t surprise me in the least. Too bad for him I was better at it than him.

“Do you like my pussy?” I asked, making my tone uncertain. I even bit my lip for extra effect.

“Yes,” he said, his voice in my ear rough. And he continued to stroke himself.

“Does it feel good when you touch it?”

His free tentacle slid up my thigh, leaving little red marks as the suckers plucked at my skin. I couldn’t move away, but I twitched with each little suck.

“It feels good,” he said. More stroking, slow and even.

“Does it taste good?”

His tentacle slid farther up my inner thigh and flicked at my pussy, just grazing the delicate skin of my lips. His strokes sped up, then slowed again.

“It tastes very good,” he said. I heard the smile in his voice that time. The rate of his stroking increased again, and this time he didn’t slow down.

I expected him to return the tip of his tentacle to my clit, but instead it delved along my slit, sucking at that delicate skin. My slickness allowed it to move easily. I automatically tried to arch my back, but I still couldn’t move. I had enjoyed light bondage before, but I had never wanted to experience real restraint. Until now. Now I wanted Vos to keep me at his mercy because I had never come harder than I did while held helpless by him.

The tip of a long, cool tongue traveled along the contours of my ear. “Do you want me to fuck you with my tentacle while you watch, my Calla?” he asked, making me shiver with desire. “Ask me for what you want.”

More wetness ran from my desperate, aching pussy. “Yes, I want you to fuck me with your tentacle.”

“Where do you want to be fucked?” He stroked himself more quickly now, and the tentacle playing with my slit slipped lower until its tip flicked at my opening. I held back a moan, but only barely. “Here?” he asked. “In your beautiful cunt?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me with your tentacle. In my cunt.”

His tentacle tip slipped inside. I gasped at the intrusion and the sensation of the tiny suckers that plucked at my slick, delicate skin.

“As soon as you are healed enough to take me fully, I will fill you with my cock,” he said, his voice rough. “But until then, I will give you everything you need in other ways. All you must do is ask for what you want.”

My pussy clenched, but he wasn’t inside me enough yet. “Deeper, please,” I begged. “Please fuck me with your tentacle, Vos.”

He slid his tentacle in a little farther. I tried to move my hips to grind on it, but he held me still. “I am not sure you take my tentacle in your cunt, my Calla,” he murmured. “Can you?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He slipped it in another few centimeters and undulated it, the tip stroking inside me, searching for that magical spot. I shuddered, my eyes closing. “Vos. More.”

The tip stroked lightly over my G-spot, and I cried out. “Oh, gods. Yes. Right there. ”

“Look at your beautiful cunt stretch around my tentacle. You take me so well.” He nibbled at my ear again as his tentacle stroked my G-spot so lightly that I wanted to scream. “You cannot come until I say so this time, my Calla. We will come together. Say it.”

I had never submitted to anyone during sex, and I hadn’t wanted to until now. The thought hadn’t interested me, much less aroused me. I had never wanted to be told what to do either, and chafed mightily at every order I got after I escaped Ganai, even during my service in the Alliance Defense, when I knew taking orders was part of the deal.

So what had changed to make me want to obey him, and even beg for pleasure?

I felt safe with Vos, when no other partner had ever made me feel that way. And though Vos was giving me orders, I believed—I knew —that he did so with my pleasure in mind, and that I could say no at any time and he would immediately respect that.

But I had a rebellious streak a light-year wide, so I said, “I’ll come when I please, Vos.”

Chuckling, he stroked his cock, then used the tip of that tentacle to gather up the lavender liquid that dripped from the opening. He brought the tentacle close to my lips. The smell of his precum, sweet and savory, reminded me of a pastry I’d loved while stationed on Fortusia. And its beautiful glow was almost mesmerizing.

“You will come when I say,” he murmured into my ear. “Beautiful Calla, you are mine and I am yours. Open your mouth.”

I shook my head no. Not because I didn’t want to taste him, but because I wanted to see what he would do.

He brushed his tentacle over my lips, coating them with his precum. When I didn’t open my mouth, he gathered up more lavender liquid and returned, this time prodding my lips as he stroked my G-spot more vigorously.

I couldn’t help it; I caught the tip of his tentacle in my mouth and sucked on it. His precum tasted so sweet and delicious, and the suckers plucked lightly at my lips and tongue. So many sensations, all of them exquisite. I groaned.

Trembling, Vos released my left leg to wrap that tentacle around his cock and stroke it fast and hard. At the same time, his tentacle in my pussy rubbed and vibrated against my G-spot. I wailed.

“Come for me, my Calla,” he grated into my ear.

I went over the edge so quickly, so hard, and so desperately that I threw my head back against his chest and screamed with one tentacle still in my mouth partially muffling my cry. My pussy clenched around his other tentacle as its tip continued to rub, making me gush again and again.

He kept his other tentacle in my mouth, holding it open as his beautiful cock spurted hot, glowing cum high into the air in thick ropes that splattered my face and body and landed on my tongue.

“Calla,” he groaned. He let go of me with one human arm and wrapped his hand around my throat ever so gently, holding me against him and still so he could aim his spurts of cum at my mouth. “Calla, fuck. Fuck. Fuck .”

The taste of his cum, the sensation of his hand on my throat, and his tentacle rubbing on my G-spot made my entire body tense and release in another soft orgasm that made my toes curl.

I could have moved now with his grip loosened, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to hurt myself and delay my healing process. I wanted to be well again so he could fuck me with that beautiful cock. And he’d told me to stay still, so I had to obey.

The last of his cum dribbled down his cock head as he withdrew his tentacle from my lips. I swallowed what had landed in my mouth, licking my lips to savor the taste of him. I longed to lick his cock clean too, but a heavy, satisfied kind of exhaustion swept over me.

He withdrew his tentacle gently from my pussy and dragged his long tongue around and over its tip.

“I do not want to waste a drop of anything you give me,” Vos said, his gaze on mine. “Everything about you is a treasure.”

I could do nothing but tremble in his arms.

He turned on the water spigots to re-fill the tub. “My beautiful Calla,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I will wash us both, and then we will rest together.”

Nothing had ever sounded as good as that plan. “After all, I did want to get clean.” I was so tired now, but a good kind of tired. A satisfied, sated, treasured kind of tired.

He rested his chin on the top of my head as scalding water filled the tub. Heavenly. If he didn’t like the water being so hot, he didn’t let on.

“Calla,” he said.

“Mmm?” I closed my eyes and snuggled against his chest. His gills fluttered as the water level reached them. I liked that strange sensation.

“Do you have any regrets?” His body remained relaxed, but his voice sounded guarded. “Please tell me the truth.”

I kissed his chest. “Not a single regret, other than the obvious ones.”

I sensed him frown. “What are the obvious regrets?”

“That I didn’t get to suck your cock,” I murmured, a little crossly because he should have been able to figure that one out. “And that I’m not healed enough to be fucked by it either.”

His chest shook with what I realized was silent laughter. I smiled.

“Soon,” he promised. His tentacles ran over my arms and legs, tasting and smelling me thoroughly, before embracing me once more. “I want that very much, but we must be careful and mindful of your recovery above all else.” He kissed my hair, picked up a washcloth and a bar of homemade soap, and went to work getting me clean.