Page 60 of Sway’s Peace (Delivery Service #2)

Sway

This kiss was different. There was heat and passion, certainly, but there was also something else that he couldn’t quite identify. A new closeness. A new intimacy. A harsh edge of desperation that made him want to cling so tightly she fused into him, and he’d never have to let her go.

There was a chance that, when he tried to mate her, it would go nowhere.

Every species mated differently, and every species had their own triggers and seals to their bonds.

Some were lucky enough to have a distinct and obvious trigger, meaning that sealing their mating was a sure thing.

However, not every species had that. Some just had the feeling that they knew .

But it was easy to mistake that feeling, because until it hit you, there was no way of replicating or understanding it.

Sway came from one such species. There was always a chance, when courting and dancing and singing, that it was all an exercise in futility.

That, when they reached the end, and he’d built her a nest and they’d made love inside it, no mate bond formed at all.

That the feelings he was experiencing now were just attraction and that’s all they’d ever be.

But it was like this kiss was confirming what he already knew.

That Grace was his mate. That she was meant to be in his arms, in his nest. He kissed her like a male possessed, and she returned that fervor with her own eagerness.

Her little hands tightened against his crest feathers, probably breaking the delicate vanes, but he didn’t care.

He wanted her to mess his crest up. He wanted the feathers to be wild and uneven.

Proof of how his female couldn’t keep her hands off him.

Lurching to his feet, he shoved the tray of food off the table and placed her ass on it instead.

She chuckled, their kiss never breaking, as he began yanking at the thin dress that barely concealed her body.

It was so easy to pull off the belt, and with that gone, the airy strips of fabric just fell away from her slender form.

He stepped back then, just to create enough distance that he could see her.

All of her, perched on the table like the sweetest of treats, waiting for him.

His mouth watered at the sight even as her legs shifted together, hiding her cunt, face and chest burning red with embarrassment. It only made her lovelier.

The thin fabric of her dress had fallen around her hips, trailing from the table to the floor, only succeeding in accentuating the subtle, sensual curves of her long body.

She turned her eyes away, some of her black hair falling forward, hiding the hardening peaks of her small nipples from his eyes.

Slowly, he reached forward and pushed the strands back over her shoulders, baring her to him. She bit her lip nervously, but her eyes burned with excitement, and she didn’t try to hide from him again. He once again leaned back, admiring her.

Long, smooth legs. A soft, flat belly. Slender arms with long, elegant fingers. The contrast between her pale skin and her black hair. The way her thighs quivered as they tightened, trying so hard to conceal the pleasures he sought. Void take him, he’d do anything for this female.

Coming down on his knees, he pressed a kiss to her shin as his hands slid up the back of her calves, gently squeezing the tight muscles.

“Open for me,” he begged, lips trailing to her knee, peering up at her from below. He couldn’t imagine how his own face looked, but by the expression that tensed on hers, her lower lip trembling, she enjoyed whatever she was seeing.

It was a side of himself that he didn’t even know.

Sex and passion weren’t two things that he was accustomed to feeling at the same time.

The heat of sex was just pure feeling, detached and uninteresting to him.

Passion for his work, for his drive to live, was familiar, but it had never burned for anything else before.

Combining the raw desire, all the more powerful for being unfamiliar, with the heat of passion and obsession for this glorious female just enhanced and multiplied the individual feelings.

His heart was burning and pounding and fluttering all at the same time as his guts writhed and burned, set aflame by the desire raging through his aching, hardening cock.

He slid his hands up further, stroking the soft skin of her thighs, marveling at the muscles hidden underneath.

So small. So fragile. But so sturdy, a satisfying squeeze in his hands as he pushed forward, forcing her legs to part to make way for him.

Giving him just a quick peak at her slit.

And the charming tuft of black hair he hadn’t been expecting.

She was bald everywhere but her head, so he figured that would be true there too. To find that little patch of fur, like a treat, absolutely delighted him as his sac clenched. He was suddenly eager to feel his feathers pressed against those curly hairs.

His hands, still on their slow trek up her thighs, grabbed her ass with both hands and, with a sudden jerk, yanked her right to the edge of the table.

She squealed, grabbing desperately onto his crest again.

He felt the delicate vanes tearing, the shaft pulling at his scalp, but he loved it.

The pressure made his hips jerk. He took advantage of her surprise to slide his shoulders under her knees, lifting and opening her to him.

And there she was. His sweet female. He couldn’t say he’d ever been close to a female like this.

It required a level of trust he simply couldn’t give, nor could be given to him by his previous couplings.

Her legs around his neck could be dangerous, his head between her thighs was a risk, just as much as his teeth near such a sensitive area.

This was wholly new. And maybe that difference was what made this so much better. The need to get closer, to bury his face between her thighs and taste her musky sweetness, was untainted by anything from his past.

He was hungry for her, eager for the pressure of her thighs against his ears. He came in closer, breathing deep of her erotic scent. It filled his nostrils like a bouquet as he canted her hips up, forcing her to lean back.

“Sway, you don’t have to-”

He didn’t stop to listen to whatever else she was going to say. He needed to taste her. He needed her sweetness on his tongue. Whatever protestation she had, if it wasn’t a firm no of displeasure, meant nothing to him. He was a male determined.

She let out a squeal that turned into a low moan as he licked up the length of her slit.

The music of it ringing in his ears was matched only by the burst of her juices on his tongue.

An act that had always seemed grotesque now suddenly made perfect sense, because who could resist this?

Who wouldn’t want this? The taste of her, the way she sang for him, the tensing of her thighs, the jerk of her body.

He needed more.

With a grunt, he shoved her legs wider, making her slit part, giving him an unobstructed view of the petals of her sex. A twitching hole flanked by soft, tender flesh, leading to a point at the top that throbbed, eager for his tongue.

He was happy to oblige, closing his mouth over that nub and sucking even as he ran his tongue over the heated skin.

Grace cried out. Toneless. Wordless. The most beautiful melody. Yes. He needed her to sing more. He had to hear it. He craved it more than food or water or air.

Flicking his tongue over that sensitive nub, he changed how he moved, adjusting his speed and technique based only on the sound of her song.

She wiggled and thrashed, crushing his crest in her elegant hands.

But despite the abuse, it had never stood so high in his life.

He could feel his tail fanning out for her.

Displaying his colors as he made her sing under his ministrations.

He pulled back, stopping only long enough to shove his first two fingers in his mouth. He got the downy feathers wet with a few flicks of his tongue then returned. Her little nub was throbbing so desperately as he used the now slickened digits to explore the hole just underneath.

The source of her pleasure might be external, but that didn’t mean she didn’t react to the way his fingers began to slide in and stretch her out.

She was so wet, he needn’t have bothered licking his fingers. As he pushed deep, he felt the slick heat of her dripping onto his palm. Her inner muscles tensed and spasmed. Squeezing desperately as she hovered right there on the edge of her release.

His hand paused for just a moment, buried to his knuckles, feeling her ripple and tighten. Feeling the burning heat of her needy cunt. Savoring it.

Then, he started fucking her. Fast. Hard.

The squelching of it a delicious harmony to the melody she was singing so prettily.

All the while, his tongue laved over that tense, hard button, twisting and twirling around it as her legs tightened against his head, giving him that pressure he didn’t realize he’d crave so deeply.

It didn’t take long. She shattered, screaming her ecstasy. A rush of fluid soaked his hand as her muscles clenched down so hard, it was like she was trying to break his fingers. That feeling around his cock would be…

He shuddered, redoubling the efforts of his fingers, his tongue. Seeking more. Needing more.

A sharp pain on his scalp made him grunt as his head was suddenly jerked back. And, paradoxically, sent a bolt of hot pleasure straight through his groin. Precum dripped from the aching head of his fully exposed cock tenting the front of his clothes.

The pain was pleasurable. Being forced to look up, seeing his female hovering over him, her face glistening with sweat, red with exertion, panting with tears in her eyes, made him shudder. Could she possibly be more beautiful?

“T-Too… much…” she panted, shivering. Her legs quivered over his shoulders.

He pushed her too far, and she made him stop. Somehow, that sent another jolt of pleasure straight down his cock. Why? Why was it that her being forceful with him was so thrilling?

Before he could investigate that thought further, she was pulling on his crest. On his scalp.

It hurt so good as she brought him up to kiss her.

He continued, standing straight, until she was beneath him, her legs now around his waist. She released his crest, to his disappointment, but then she grabbed onto his shoulders, fisting the delicate feathers there.

Yes. That sharp sting was what he craved.

It made his hips jerk, pushing his cock against her belly.

She made a soft sound before pushing him back.

Giving her the space she needed to look down.

Her eyes widened at the sight of his shaft, and she swallowed.

That gentle bob in her throat nearly undid him as another bread of precum appeared at the head.

Grabbing the hard flesh, he began working it up and down. Using the same hand, feathers still damp with her juices, to jerk himself. Mixing them into his own.

“Afraid?” He asked, his voice rough. A sound that would have been ugly to anyone from his own kind as it broke that clear, bell-like tone that was so prized in his people.

But it made her lips part, bumps breaking out all over her skin as her thighs tightened against his waist, like she was trying to bring him closer.

He might be broken, but the edges scratched her just right. And he didn’t care about anything beyond that.