Page 16

I lift her hips and slide a pillow and towel under her.

Enjoy the view for a moment before kissing her again.

While we’re kissing, I pull her knee over my hip, spreading her open, but also entwining our bodies, so she feels connected to me.

Then I walk my fingers down between her thighs, circling and rubbing as I go. Kez moans into my mouth.

She’s wet from the foreplay, so I could use her natural lube the way I had to with Mouse, but I feel better using a store-bought one. I fish it out of the pile of towels, pour a little on her, and smooth it down over the short expanse of her perineum. “Let’s start with a finger, kitten.”

“Let’s start with two,” she says, lifting her head and looking down her body to where I’m stroking.

“Patience.” I reach down and push my finger into her, parting her sphincter gently. She tilts her hips. This part is familiar now, and she likes the pressure. I stroke in and out a few times before introducing a second finger. “Still good?”

“Yes,” she moans. “More.”

More. She’s ready, and although I’m not feeling a huge sense of urgency, I’m eager for the next stage, too. I’ve missed this since I lost Mouse, and I’ve been looking forward to doing it with Kez for what feels like forever.

I check her reactions as I work my two fingers in her, getting her used to the pressure and friction.

We’ve gotten to this point several times now; the dance is becoming familiar.

That familiarity, and her desire, keep Kez wholly relaxed in my arms. She’s breathing hard, moving her hips in time to the thrust of my fingers, but there’s no tension in her muscles.

No sign of discomfort. She’s ready, and so am I.

I draw my fingers out of her slowly. Wipe them on the second towel. Turn her so I can spoon in behind her. “Draw your knees up, kitten.”

She does immediately. My obedient kitten. She gives me a little lip, which I encourage because I like her spirit. But when I tell her to do something, she does it. Without question, without hesitation. Her trust is total and unwavering and the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

I pour out some more lube, spread it over both of us, and position myself carefully.

“Clench up,” I tell her. Although I got the position wrong with Mouse, I got this bit right. It’s much easier to get in once her sphincter relaxes, and she relaxes most after she’s tightened up. “Hard. Harder. Hold it. Now let go.”

When she relaxes, I push gently. I’ve used plenty of lube, so I slide between her cheeks without difficulty and only find resistance when I press against her sphincter. It gives slowly. Opening and then closing tight around me. “Easy.”

“Hale, yes,” Kez whispers.

“Yeah, that’s my kitten. That’s it.” Another thing Mouse taught me was to talk my way through the initial penetration.

It helped let her know what I was doing, and during our build-up I’ve found it keeps the connection flowing.

Anal sex feels great, but it don’t always feel as intimate as other sex.

Particularly when I take her from behind. “Little more now.”

“Yes.”

I push again and my head slides through. She squeezes hard on me and I stop. Wait until she relaxes. Pull back and pour out a little more lube. I don’t want there to be any uncomfortable friction. Talk her through it again. “Breathe. Bear down for me, kitten.”

Sweet, immediate response. I praise her as I introduce myself again, push a little deeper.

Feel the reluctant give of that tight, tight flesh.

My head’s all the way in now. Her sphincter is squeezing right behind my corona.

Feels better than good. I pull her back onto me, gently, gently now.

This is deeper than I’ve been before. I rock a little in her, not thrusting, just rolling my hips, to see how she reacts.

Kez moans and shudders. She bucks, tries to control it, sags onto my chest, panting. “Hale,” she groans.

I wait and gauge the tension in her body. Her back is an easy curve, her legs are loose against mine. Relaxed. Trusting. Beautiful.

I move again, sliding inside her while she pants and moans. “Remember when we were dancin’, kitten?” I ask.

“Yes,” she gasps.

“Grind on me. Just like that.”

She does, rotating her hips as much as she can within my tight embrace. When she feels ready, I push again. Slowly working myself into her. I rock with her, keeping time with her grinding, moving with her, deeper and deeper, until my hips bump her soft, round ass. “That’s it, kitten. All the way.”

“All the way?” She shivers. “Goosebumps,” she whispers.

I wipe off my lube-covered hand so I can feel them for myself. Rub my palm up and down her arm until her skin smooths. Kiss her temple and fold her deep into my body. “You’re mine, kitten,” I whisper to her. “Everywhere.”

She moans in assent.

To complete my possession, I begin thrusting.

Slowly, very slowly. There won’t be any wild pounding.

Not this time, and maybe never this way.

Mouse wanted me to fuck her ass hard and it didn’t go well.

Not something I want to repeat. This will be a slow, gentle fuck, and given how tight Kez is, that’s just fine.

Going slow lets me feel the flex of Kez’s muscles against my invasion. There’s no rhythm, but I know how to give her one. How to make sure she enjoys this as much as I do.

I stroke her hip, press her leg tight against mine and slip my fingers down over her thigh into that silk-wet valley. She gasps in surprise. “Is that okay, kitten?”

She twists in my arms. “Hale ...”

“Too much?”

“I-I don’t know?—”

“Relax.” She does, settling back against my chest as I begin working her. Slow, smooth thrusts. Light, gentle circles. When she’s shuddering sweetly, I push two fingers inside her. “That okay, kitten?”

“Yes,” she gasps.

“That’s my kitten.” I cuddle her close with my free arm. Her body tightens unbelievably on mine. “Glorious.”

She gives a breathy laugh. “Glorious?”

“Absolutely fucking glorious. How does it feel?”

“Full,” she says.

I chuckle. Hold her tight. “Full of me.”

I fuck her slow. Enjoying that sweet, sweet pressure to its fullest. Listening to her pant and gasp heightens my pleasure, as does her helpless shaking in my arms. I control this completely.

Every movement, every sensation we share.

Kez is enveloped in my body, wholly at my mercy, as I build the tension towards release.

I plunge my fingers into her, draw myself all the way out and push all the way back in.

Kez goes wild, screaming my name, which is exactly what I want to hear.

“Come for me,” I growl in her ear and give her the friction we both need to take us over the straining edge.

Even as I lose myself in my orgasm, I’m careful not slam into her.

Just slide deep and let her body pull me over that white-hot cliff.

Through those too-few seconds of convulsive release, then there’s nothing but pressure and pleasure and oneness.

We drift, slow and easy, into the sweet aftermath she always gives me.

I lie in her for a minute, listening to her breathing. She’s panting, but her breathing’s not labored. She’s not in pain. “Push down a little, kitten.”

She does and I pull very, very gently out.

I’m fatigued and ready to sleep, but Kez needs caring for first. I’ve always taken care of my women, even the ones I’ve paid for. As a reward for giving me their trust. Kez has given me something far greater – something I never expected to find – and she deserves more.

As she watches me with those gleaming eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear, I unlock her, clean her up, then wrap her in towel number three while I hit the ‘fresher. I’ll want to fuck her again tonight at some point, and I need to be clean when I do.

The little monster is not enthusiastic about being washed, and the sanitizer stings. That ain’t good. Better get some serious stuff from Doc Gray before we leave for Yrillo.

Once I’m clean, I begin our evening routine.

Dressing Kez in a little nightgown so she doesn’t stick to me while we sleep, straightening the covers and tucking them around her.

It’s a small thing, tucking her in. But I’ve realized little gestures like this are hugely meaningful to Kez.

She’s the caretaker for her whole extended family.

When Nev is puking her way through withdrawal.

When the rabbits eat something they shouldn’t and shit all over the place.

It’s Kez who soothes them and cleans them up and tucks them into bed.

She’s been there for all of them, for years.

But she’s never had anyone to take care of her.

Until now.

The first time I tucked her into bed, she cried.

Real, deep sobs, like I’d broken her heart.

She couldn’t even tell me why she was crying.

But I knew. She’s stopped crying, but I’ve kept tucking her in, and I’ve kept looking for little ways to take care of her.

So she knows there’s someone she can always count on, just the way her crew counts on her.

Once I get her tucked up, position the pillows the way I want, and toss a few of them onto the floor – the Cloud Palace believes in far more pillows than I do – I stretch out next to her. Take a deep, satisfied breath, let it out, and close my eyes.

She wriggles closer, puts her head on my shoulder and sighs. “I feel so relaxed. Except—” She reaches back and pats at her ass, padded by the towel. “Ew, I’m leaking.”

I chuckle. “Nice. Thanks for sharing.”

“You keep telling me I don’t get to keep any secrets.”

That’s something we need to talk about, given the fairly important secret I learned about her tonight. But not now. Not when we’re both so relaxed. “Yeah, for future reference, that’s a secret you can keep.”

She laughs and cuddles so close you couldn’t squeeze a microlaser between our bodies. “I didn’t know I’d feel this good after.”

I did. Mouse didn’t give me anything like the peace Kez does, but I always felt more than relaxed afterwards. And Mouse fell asleep in record time, so she must have, too. I slide my arm under Kez and work her into a position where I can cuddle her without my arm falling asleep. “You’re not sore?”

She wiggles. “No. A little tingly, but not sore.”

“Good.” Means I was slow and gentle enough. Maybe somewhere, Mouse’s ghost is smiling at me.

“So we can do it again,” Kez says.

“Yeah, sometime.” I’m happy to do it again, but not too often. Mouse got serious hemorrhoids after a couple of weeks and then we were back to oral, which I didn’t mind, either, but there’s nothing as good as humping in my book.

“Or now.”

“Or not.” I tickle her neck, wait until she finishes protesting, then tuck her up against me again.

“I’m not tired,” Kez says, still giggling .

Yeah, not the first time I’ve heard that. “You’re never tired. Funny how easy you fall asleep on me when you’re not tired.”

She yawns hugely and stretches. “I love falling asleep on you.”

“Nothin’ better.” I kiss her forehead. “Night-night, kitten.”

She wriggles closer, rubs those long, silky legs against mine, nuzzles into my shoulder. “Shouldn’t we talk? You said we’d compare notes later.”

“We will. Later.”

“Now’s later.”

“Later’s later, too. Go to sleep.” We need to talk, but we’re both tired. We’ll think better when we’ve rested. And I know what Kez’s ‘I’m not tired’ means from experience. It means she’ll be snoring on my shoulder in five minutes.

Four minutes and twenty seconds later, by the chrono in my eye, she is.

Oh-three-hundred. Three a.m. Soul’s midnight, I’ve heard it called.

Whatever else it is, it’s the time Kez usually wakes up.

Sometimes she just wakes with a full bladder.

Sometimes she wakes shivering and shaking.

And sometimes the nightmares are bad enough to wake her screaming.

I haven’t had any nightmares since I started sleeping with her.

I sleep like a baby now. Kez has fewer nightmares than she used to, or so she says.

I’m hopeful we’ll get to the point where she doesn’t have any.

But I think that point’s still a way off.

Tonight, it’s a shivering-shaking nightmare.

To say I’m pleased sounds all wrong, even in my head.

But with the stresses on her today, particularly the reminders of the attack that left her so scarred, I’m surprised it’s not a screaming nightmare.

Surprised and pleased. The screaming nightmares can take her a while to recover from, which makes for a bad night’s sleep.

The shivering-shaking variety can usually be pacified with a cuddle. Or gentle sex.

She reaches for my groin pretty much as soon as I tuck her against me.

Looks like the gentle sex route tonight.

I’m glad I washed up earlier. I can transition smoothly from cuddling to caressing.

And for all that rough play turns me on like a heavy-water reactor, I like gentle sex just as much. Variety is the spice of life.

I keep it simple. The anal sex earlier was a leap for both of us.

I’m a little sore and I don’t know how her backside will be feeling now.

I pull her leg over my thigh and take her like that, lying side-by-side, moving slow once I’m inside her.

She feels unusually tight, and I don’t know if that’s from the position or the earlier sex, but it reminds me to keep it gentle, and I do.

Slow stroking, inside and out. Soft, deep kisses that become panting as I guide us up and up towards release.

For all that I keep it gentle, her orgasm’s intense, and her gasps break into sobs after she comes.

This isn’t the first time she’s cried after an intense orgasm, or even serious play, and I know how to handle it now.

I let myself go, cradle her tight as I come, and talk us both down through the aftermath.

It doesn’t matter what I say. She won’t remember it anyway.

What she’ll remember is that I was there for her when she fell apart, and that I held her while she pulled herself back together.

When her breathing quiets, I tuck her in again, settle her on my other shoulder so I don’t wake up with dead-arm, and cuddle her until she falls asleep.

Listening to her soft, even breathing, I stare up at the gilded ceiling for a while, tracing the ornate design with my eyes.

Needs a mirror. I’d have liked to look up and see us entwined while we were fucking.

Figures that this fancy place lacks the one amenity I’d really like.

Chuckling at that thought, I let myself drift.