Steph's Outcast - Page 60

"Juth," she cries softly, and her fingers go to my mane, twisting into it again. She does not push away, but instead gasps my name again. "Juth. Please."

"Can I taste you?" I flick my tongue over her folds, pretending she has not yet decided. Her quivering and the way her cunt is growing slick before my eyes tells me everything I need to know. "Or shall I let you go watch some creature lay eggs?"

In response, she spreads wider for me, tugging on my head. "Don't you dare leave me now."

"Never." Never, never. I would stay here forever. I press my mouth to her folds, kissing her here like I would her mouth. She squirms under me, and I wonder if I am doing it wrong. I think about how she tasted me. Her hands moved all over my cock and then she put her mouth on the head and sucked. I cannot do the same for her—she is not built the same way I am. But I can give her pleasure, I think. I just have to figure out the best way to approach it.

I lift my head, studying her cunt. As I do, I lick my lips. The taste of her is on my skin, and I want to revel in how delicious it is. "Your taste is incredible," I tell her, and touch her cunt with a light fingertip, stroking her folds. She's growing wet already, the core of her gleaming with her slick response, and I dip my finger there, wanting to touch her all over.

Steff makes a choked response, jerking up against my finger where it circles the entrance to her body. I love how wet she is, but when I compare her cunt to my cock…they do not seem a match. I am big and she is small. I am hard all over and she is soft, soft, soft. Steff does not seem worried, though, so I will follow her lead. I rub my finger against her opening, and she arches up, panting. I want to put my tongue there, where she is wettest. I withdraw my hand, watching my mate, and when our eyes meet, I lick her taste off my skin. Another groan rips from my throat. I will never have enough of this taste. Never.

I push my head between her thighs, and using one hand to hold her folds open for me, I drag my tongue over the entrance of her body, licking up that delicious wetness. She cries out again, the sound soft and entreating, and it only makes me hungry for more. I work that little hole of hers with my tongue, teasing and tasting and delving, pushing into it with the tip of my tongue and licking her everywhere I can.

"Juth," she pants, saying my name over and over again even as she quivers against my tongue. "Oh god, Juth. That feels so good."

Her encouragement only heightens my excitement. I continue teasing her with even more enthusiasm. To my surprise, something brushes against my forehead. I lift my head to see that she is touching her spot, the one that she likes to have rubbed. Of course. I want to laugh with how I could have missed something so very obvious. I push her hand out of the way, because I am possessive and I want to be the one to touch that spot for her. I lean in and run my tongue over it, and the breath hisses out of her lungs. Her thighs clench and she tries to curl her legs around me, like she did when I touched her before.

Now I feel as if I am on the right path. She liked the other things, too, but this she likes more. Eager to pleasure her, I adjust her thighs over my shoulders and work that spot of hers, the little nub of flesh that is so very sensitive. Steff's sounds grow louder, her cries more intense, and she rocks and moves against my face, trying to follow along with my tongue. My cock is aching fiercely, and I grind my hips against the furs, desperate for my own release. Steff comes first, though. She always comes first. I tease her, moving my tongue faster and faster, and when she starts saying “please” over and over again, I slide my finger into her wet heat once more.

My mate makes a choked cry, her cunt fluttering and rippling against my finger even as a surge of new wetness floods her folds. It is too much for me, too. With a hiss, I come in my kilt, grinding against the furs even as I work my tongue over her. She rocks against me, shuddering, and then collapses back on the furs as if completely spent, a little mewling sound of contentment escaping her.

Tags: Ruby Dixon Science Fiction
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