Page 24 of When She's Handy

“Oh no, we’re doing this the right way.” I nudge her off my leg. “Stand up and undress. I want to look at you now that you’re not all ribs.”

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

BRUX

The human sticks her tongue out at me again, ever playful, and flounces off my lap.

Melody takes two steps backward, still facing me, and then pulls off her plain tunic. Underneath it she wears something that looks like a band of material with two straps over her shoulders. She shimmies out of this next, and then she’s wearing nothing but her boots and trou.

Melody is utterly beautiful. She’s not perfect, of course. There are old scars that trace white lines across her skin, but as long as they’re old, I don’t care about them. What I do care about is that her body is filled out, her ribs no longer visible when she moves. Her breasts are small but full, with large pink nipples tipping them. She’s not just as I remember, and I’m so glad. She looks healthy and strong and not nearly as fragile.

She smiles at me, then kicks off her boots. She slides her trou down her legs, removing them and the undergarment she wears underneath. Here, the scars of her captivity are more evident—lines crisscross her legs in ugly stripes, and there are a few puckered scars that dent her skin where there shouldn’t be dents. The cruelty of her old master becomes even more evident. I remember bruises covering her pasty-pale skin, but I don’t think I realized just how awful things had been for her. “Are all those five years old?”

She nods, slapping her flank to make it jiggle. “Some older. Don’t fuss.”

Don’t fuss. As if I can forget what happened to her. I glance up, meet her gaze. “Did he rape you?”

“No. That’s about the only thing I’m grateful for. That old bastard treated me like a dog. Kicked me, hit me, didn’t feed me, made me sleep out in the rain, kept me collared, you name it. Just didn’t rape me. I don’t think he saw me as a person. Shit, I hope he didn’t see me as a person, because I can’t imagine treating anyone that way.”

I grunt. I shouldn’t be glad, but I am. It doesn’t change how I feel in this moment, but I know that scars on the outside heal quicker than scars on the inside.

She moves forward, stepping between my knees, and puts her hands on my face, cupping my heavy jaw again. “You know you can touch me now, right?”

Oh, I know. I tug her into my arms, settling her so she’s so close that the tips of her breasts are within reach. I don’t have to duck much to take the tip of one breast into my mouth. I cup it with my fingers, letting the nipple play against my lips. It immediately hardens and she sucks in a breath, her hands going to my shorn head and moving against my scalp before settling on the stumps of my horns. “Okay to touch you here?”

“Touch me anywhere,” I tell her, then nuzzle her breast again. Kef, she smells sweet. The metal she works with lingers on her skin, adding an edge to her otherwise delicate scent. She also smells human, with the tinge of sweat and soap and femininity that comprise the unique blend of her. I drag my tongue over her skin, wanting to devour that delicious scent of hers. “I could eat you up.”

“Please do.” She sounds breathless, her fingers going to my ears and stroking the outer edge. “You know I could touch you all over, right? Every time I do, it makes me crazy to think about how soft your skin is. Touching you is like petting the softest velvet. I want to just stroke you for hours.”

Her words send a bolt of heat straight to my cock. Biting back a groan, I lavish attention on her breast, tonguing and teasing her nipple until it’s flushed a deep shade and the tip is taut. I move to the other breast, giving it equal affection, my thumb toying with the other to ensure both get the same amount of consideration. As I play with her breasts, her breathing turns rapid, and she makes little sounds in the back of her throat. The scent of her arousal grows thick in the air, and I ignore it, wanting to focus on her breasts until she says otherwise.

Until she whimpers. It’s the sweetest, neediest little sound, and it makes me crazy. I lift my head, tonguing one nipple one last time as our eyes meet. “I want to touch your cunt.”

“I want that, too.”

“Spread your legs for me, then.” I flick her nipple with my thumb once more, then skim my hands down to her hips.

Melody shifts her stance, her legs parting, and then the glorious scent of her fills the room. Ah, kef me. She’s so keffing wet. I’m drowning in her arousal. With a growl of pleasure, I put my hand between her thighs, cupping the vee of her sex against my palm. She’s got a tuft of hair here, a darker shade than the sunlit yellow on her head. The texture is different, too, and when I drag my thumb through the curls there, her scent grows even thicker.

“Gonna finger you,” I tell her thickly. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me.”

She nods, leaning forward and pressing my face to her breasts again. Feels like perfection to nestle my face between those two soft mounds, even as my fingers stroke along the wet seam of her cunt. I part her folds with one finger, dragging back and forth to get her used to my touch. Melody talks a big game, but I want to be careful with her, just in case. We had sex in the past, sure, but neither of us were in the right headspace then. I need this time to be perfect. I need this time to be so mind-blowing, so amazing, that neither of us thinks about that night ever again.

Slowly, I stroke a finger through the folds of her wet cunt and find the entrance to her body. I circle my finger at her opening and then gently nudge it inside her. She’s wet and tight and hot, and that combination does crazy things to my cock. I’m harder than a rock, even as I’m more determined than ever to go slow. So keffing slow.

“My clit,” she breathes, shifting her weight as I push deeper into her. “Need you to touch my clit.”

That could be a human thing. That could also be why she didn’t come last time. Perhaps this is the key to unlocking her pleasure. “Show me.”

Melody squeezes her thighs together around my hand, even as she takes my other one and guides it between her legs. I hold my breath as she guides my fingers to the apex of her folds, to a tiny bump of flesh that is easily missed. “Rub the sides of this. Not directly. Just the sides. It feels like…well, I guess like touching your cockhead does.”

Aha. “May I look?”

She nods, tension vibrating through her. Melody’s fingers slip to my uniform and curl against the fabric, as if she has to hold herself steady.

Fascinated, I use my thumb to pull her cunt apart, spreading the folds so I can more closely examine the flushed center of her. Sure enough, there is a tiny, deeply purple nub buried in her flesh, visible when parted. It protrudes slightly as I pull her skin taut, and Melody shivers in response. No direct touches. All right, then. I stroke the pad of my finger along the side of it, testing.

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