Page 41 of Collected By the Crow

“Let me worship you, Cassandra. Let me take my time. Please.” As he spoke, the crow in him continued to warble from his chest, his mating instincts unperturbed by words.

He slipped free of her grip and held her legs apart, giving him an uncensored view of her pink hole, searching for him. He slid a finger through her slickness, mesmerized by the way it clung to his skin even when he pulled away. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it off. He groaned low and his bump pulsed, ready to excrete, while his balls filled with seed. His body was begging to drain inside of her. His cock strained against his trousers almost painfully.

He strummed her swollen bud, experimenting to find the chord that struck the best. When she was singing along to his warbles with her own melody, he slid his tongue through her folds, straight into the source of her sweet juices.

“Oh my fuck.” Cassandra’s hands fisted in his head feathers, their roots pinching on his scalp. “More.”

He stayed vigilant on her needy bud, suctioning it while he slid two fingers inside of her, relearning her body as she moved against him. He could hear her heart beating erratically, like a small creature of prey cornered by a predator.

His cock wept in his trousers. He hungrily lapped at the fluid she rubbed against his face, and with every sweet whimper he coaxed from her, his body’s patience grew thinner.

“Qadaire, oh fuck, I’m going to—I’m gonna come.”

“Yes. Let go. Give it to me, please, Cassandra.” His voice was hoarse, but he immediately placed his mouth back on her pulsing bud, using his fingers inside her the way he already knew she liked.

When her orgasm spasmed through her, her body going rigid under his tongue, he couldn’t hold it any longer. He groaned into her cunt, forcing his fingers to continue through the blinding pleasure as he came in his pants.

“Get up here, Q. Please.”

He rose and tugged at his trousers, not pausing when her gaze lingered on the large wet spots there.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smirk. “I’ve learned my appetite for you is insatiable.”

“You’ve learned?”

He tossed the pants on the floor and pulled her into a seated position over his lap, her thighs wrapped around his waist. Her arms naturally slipped her over his shoulders.

“Yes. I got a tad messy every time I had you wrapped around my fingers. And when you were away.” He smiled coyly. “It’s your sweet, sweet cunt. It drives me mad.”

Her cheeks turned an appealing shade of red that made him purr.

“Is that what you were talking about? Courting me?”

“Mmm. That and more.” It would’ve been his turn to blush, if he’d had warm blood in his body. “I’ve only had crows for counsel for many of your lifetimes.”

The feeling of her warm skin against his vent made it swell. He couldn’t focus on her returned expression. The friction was too much. He nuzzled deep in her neck and grinded against her. With a shallow thrust, he drove his cock through her slick seam.

“What’s this?”

He knew what she referred to. He leaned back so she could see, his breath momentarily stuck under miles of pressure as he awaited her judgment. He carefully studied her response to the round, puckered skin above his cock, wet and glistening.

“Another burden from the curse. It’s a—”

“A cloaca.” Her hand hovered in front of it, but she didn’t look anything other than curious.

“Yes, but not entirely. It does excrete lubricant for the mating process.”

“May I?”

“Yes, dewdrop.”

Her deft fingers explored the textures of his bump. Her touch splayed him open like a cadaver on the coroner’s table, but he found no judgment in her explorations, nor her expression. When she removed her hand, strings of clear, viscous fluid tied them together.

She shifted on his lap and he loosened the grip of his bottom hands on her thighs to allow her to reach down, positioning his cock between them.

She slid one hand up and down his shaft while the other palmed his leaking bump. She switched hands every few strokes, saturating his cock with his own lubricant.

“Cassandra,” he warned. Too much, it was too much. He squeezed his eyes shut. Soon, he would come again, coating the space between them. His bottom hands turned into fists, his top two frozen on the skin below her breast.

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