It was different, but this was Bane, and I was already wet and aching from running my fingertips over his massive organ, feeling him twitch in my palms.
Easy, I reminded myself. I had a lifetime to show him that I damn well meant it when I said I wanted him.
I pushed against him, forcing him back to the bed and making him sit. He let out a little rumble, teeth showing, and I put his hands at his sides.Don’t touch, and don’t move.
Then I knelt before him, my puddled skirts padding my knees against the stone floor.
I leaned forward and kissed his chest, working my way down with teeth and tongue and lips, the wood-and-salt taste of him filling my mouth. My legs were shaking when I laved my tongue over the muscle of his stomach, and then…
His cock jerked in my hand when I ran my tongue over the crown, and he made a strangled sound, half snarl, half cry. Bane’s hips bucked, and I pushed him back down with one hand, taking him back into my mouth.
As much as I could, anyway… even with my saliva, the tip was difficult to wrap my lips around, and the flared crown kept him locked inside me, trapped behind my teeth.
My tongue stroked upwards along the sensitive patch on the underside, and the sound he made… I ached so badly, but I wanted him to feel the pleasure for once, instead of me.
Bane gripped the mattress as I took as much of him as I could, swirling my tongue around him, and the pulse of him inmy mouth made me want to move harder, faster, drawing groans and rumbles from him as I stroked the ridged shaft.
When my jaw began to ache, I finally drew back, grazing my teeth over his smooth skin more by necessity than intent. My breath came in harsh pants as I tipped my head, tasting him, kneading the heavy sack between his legs as I ran my tongue from the underside of his base to the crown once more.
“Gods, Cirri,” he gasped, cock jerking. I lapped away the pearl that had beaded at the tip, wrapping my lips around him as I stroked, sucking and licking enthusiastically.
He was different, but I’d never wanted to feel someone inside me so badly in my entire life. Maybe I would’ve called him monstrous a week ago, but I could imagine how he would feel locked inside me, pushing deep…
My own clit tingled and I squeezed my knees together tighter, reminding myself that this was about Bane, that I finally got to touch him—until his nostrils flared, and he snarled, “I cansmellit on you, woman. Stand up.”
His cock throbbed in my mouth, but I obeyed, gasping for breath and core clenching. Bane gripped my skirt. I couldn’t make sense of it until his claws penetrated and he tore the fabric, ripping it wide open into a slit from waist to hem, and he pulled me onto him.
The pole jutted between my legs, and he forced my hips down, moving me so that I was riding his shaft again—every firm ridge rubbing against my clit, up and down, his hips thrusting up to drive the hard, saliva-wettened texture against me.
I gripped the head of his shaft with one hand, stroking it in time with our frantic pace, Bane’s snarls emerging on every breath. Now that I could see it, feel it, I could understand his fear.
By the Light, when he pushed into me, would he be able to go all the way? Would I see the bulge of that monstrosity inside me?I rode against him with hard, rapid thrusts, and still had more than enough to work him with my hands.
He watched me rock against him, and I couldn’t feel even the tiniest bit of self-consciousness about my own body, fully exposed in the light, because he watched with such a deep hunger, lips pulled back as though to bite. He’d shredded right through the bedding with his claws while I sucked him, and now he made me move faster, jerking me up and down as my legs shook.
The crest hit me harder than last time, making my hips lock up and my mouth open in a silent scream, my nails digging into his bare shoulders. It was a thousand times more intense, skin against skin, the heat of his cock burning into my core.
He pushed upwards, driving the firm rippled flesh over me, watching the way his cock parted my lower lips while I shook on him, and I stroked him hard, squeezing up and down as much as I could touch.
With a sound that was half roar, half groan, he picked me up and slammed me onto the bed, ripping the shredded remains of my skirt out of the way, and wrapped his hand over mine.
I barely had time to acknowledge a change—he had thickened, the ridges growing even more distended as though to keep him seated tight—before he came. Ropes of hot come splattered across my stomach and pussy, painting my thighs. I stroked again with him, moving harder, releasing another flood.
Only when every last drop was milked out of him and dripping over my core did we stop moving, both of us panting for breath, gazing at each other like we’d never seen each other before.
I couldn’t read the look on his face, but nonetheless, I grinned up at him and signed lazily, my whole body satisfied and wrung-out.
Do you still think you’re monstrous?I asked.Because I want that again.
He let out a surprised laugh, and then I saw what was on his face: disbelief, satisfaction, and surprise.
I touched his cheek, where the heat and effort had flushed his skin a dark ash gray.
“No, not… not if you like it.” Then he hesitated, his eyes moving over me from my sweat-dampened face to my seed-glazed sex, and then he climbed from between my legs and pulled me into a possessive grip, his chest still moving in deep breaths. “I think I’ll lock us in for the year.”
I couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit smug that it had worked. That he saw, at least on some level, that there was nothing to be ashamed of with me, that I wanted to know and touch all of him. And now I felt, in large part, that there was nothing wrong with me—and nothing to be jealous of.
Please do.