Page 77 of Mutant Mine

Licking at his throat makes Roth groan, which makes that incredible smell stronger, which makes my skin feel like it’s been brushed with glitter. Every nerve ending is sparkling.How did I ever live without this?

At last, Roth makes a few harder, jerky thrusts that strike right to the core of me, and groans low. Ifeelhim coming insideme. It’s hot — liquid, deep, pulsing. And also… movement? The whole length of his cock is pulsing and rippling, in just the way that his blue skin does when it’s touched.

The sensation is so unexpected that it makes me come again, arching my back with a shocked moan.

Both of us are drenched with sweat and gasping now. I expect that to be the end of it — but Roth stays hard inside me, our bodies tangled together.

He keeps pushing with his hips, rocking — only gently, but it bumps and bumps me in just the right place. It takes a while, but I come again with a whimpering cry. As I flutter around him, I feel Roth come again, too, spurting fresh heat inside me.

Surely we must be finished now. I go to ease our bodies apart — but find his weight still heavy on me, keeping me impaled. He’s still hard.

“Roth…” I mumble uncertainly.

“Little bird… I think I need to… Do you want me to stop?” He sounds as unsure as I am, but clearly the instincts of his body are telling him what he needs — and that’s more.

“No,” I say. “No, it still feels so good. But—”

Roth holds me into the pillow and shushes me with a kiss. Then he eases us over so we’re both lying on our sides, facing each other, one of my thighs flung up over his hip. He holds me in place, and begins the slow work of fucking me again. He’s not just bumping my clit this time, but taking me properly, with long, languid, comfortable thrusts.

I could stay like this forever, I think deliriously.I don’t even want to come.

But I do, of course, in the end. And as my body pulses, it wrings one more hot burst of come and desperate sound out of Roth, too. A feedback loop of pleasure.

We stay locked together for a while. Rocking so, so gently —small shocks of pleasure occasionally making us both moan and shiver at once. We kiss, softly, and whisper against each other’s mouths — I don’t even know what we say.

What is there to say now, except each other’s names? It’s like we’re finally recognizing each other for the first time.It’s you, we gasp, over and over again, staring into each other’s eyes.You. You.

* * *

I’M A QUIVERINGmess by the time we’re really finished.

When Roth eventually slides out of my body, it releases a gush of warm liquid.

I ache, inside, without him. My whole body feels hard used, but in the best way — like the satisfying burn after exercise, but intensified on a cellular level.

I press my knees back together, realizing with a blush how much fluid is seeping down my thighs. I touch my fingertips to it, and find that it isn’t the white I expected, but a light, opalescent blue.

Once my heart rate and breathing have slowed to something more like normal, I try to get to my feet — then sit right back down. I’m as wobbly on my legs as a newborn foal.

“What do you need?” Roth asks.

“Um… a washcloth,” I say, gesturing vaguely at my lap.

Roth rises and walks to the bathroom. He’s naked as he strides across the room — unabashed by his body, now. It’s such a change from before. I don’t want to point it out, in case he remembers himself and becomes ashamed again.

Or maybe we’re long past that now.

He returns with a warm, damp washcloth, and a glass of water. First, he encourages me to drink. I gulp down the cold water gratefully.

Next, he pushes me back to lie down on the bed again and begins, very gently, to wipe me clean.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been taken care of like this; not even when I was small. In the few memories I have of being washed, dressed, or fed by an adult, I remember my body being treated as a tiresome source of chores — not a precious, cherished thing.

Now, I bask passively in Roth’s touch, like a full, satisfied kitten. I ought to take the cloth from his hands and do it myself, but I can’t quite bring myself to stop him.

Once he’s joined me back in the bed, we curl into each other and rest. I lay my head on Roth’s shoulder, and he wraps his arms around me. He asks the computer to turn out the lights.

“Why do I feel so drunk?” I ask drowsily, snuggling down under the covers. “Is sex always like that? I don’t think it’s always like that.”

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