Page 79 of Sheltered in the Storm

And then his hand slipped between my thighs. I quivered.

“Do you feel yourself dripping for me, my Calla?” he asked, his fingertips brushing lightly over my slit, gathering up my slickness. “Tell me how you feel.”

“I feel wet,” I said, and mewled as his thumb ghosted over my clit. My pussy gushed and clenched on its own emptiness. “I’m ready for you.”

“Yes, you are.” He raised his hand so I could see my wetness glistening on his fingers. Two of his tentacles slipped between my legs to coil around my thighs, tugging gently. “Open your legs a little more, my Calla.”

I obeyed. His hand returned to my aching pussy, his fingertips gliding along my slit again. “So wet,” he murmured. “I have barely touched you. Do you want me to touch you, my love?”

“Yes, please, Vos. Please.”

He slipped one finger inside me, sliding it in and out. “Like this?”

I arched my hips toward him. “Yes.”

He rubbed my clit with his thumb. “And this?”

“Y-yes.” I began to tremble. “I can’t stay standing.”

“Yes, you can.” He added a second finger, pumping them in and out of me, and moved closer. “Put your arm around my neck.”

I did, and hung onto him desperately.

He put his mouth against my ear. “Did you know that when you come, you taste like honey to me?”

“No,” I gasped. Oh, gods. A coil of heat and tension grew low in my belly.

“The sweetest honey.” His teeth nipped my earlobe. “I have never tasted anything sweeter. Do you know what else I love about your orgasms?”

I shook my head, my chest heaving and my nails digging into the back of his neck.

“I love the way your cunt feels when it squeezes my fingers or my cock.” He curled his fingers inside me and brushed them lightly over my G-spot. I cried out. “I love how perfectly you take me, how perfectly you come.”

Another gentle brush. My knees gave out, but his tentacles and my arm around his neck kept me upright.

“I confess that as much as I enjoy seeing you make yourself come on my hand and my cock,” he murmured, “what I love most is when you ask me to make you come.”

There was no way he loved that more than I did, though. “Make me come,” I pleaded. “I want you to make me come.”

His teeth on my shoulder for pain and his fingers on my clit and G-spot for pleasure, he gave me what I wanted.

“Then come, my Calla,” he rasped.

The orgasm rolled through me in a wave. I wailed and collapsed against him, trembling and shaking, but he held me up with his arm and tentacles. His fingers stroked me until I came undone again with a weak cry.

My Vos laid me gently and lovingly on the grass. Two of histentacles spread my legs and held them open, and he raised my hips to bring my quivering, dripping pussy to his mouth.

He licked me slowly from my asshole all the way up my slit, his tongue delving everywhere, drinking in my slickness, before he closed his lips on my clit. I grabbed his hair and thrust my hips against his face, almost sobbing in my desperation for another sweet release.

He licked his lips, his eyes glowing. “My mate,” he said, and slipped his fingers into my pussy. “Do you have more honey for me?”

“Yes.” My head fell back and my back arched as he fucked me with his fingers.

Two gentle tentacles roamed my body, tasting me and leaving little red marks everywhere they sucked.

“Give me every drop, my Calla,” Vos murmured, his lips on my slit. “Every drop.”

He tongued me as his thumb rubbed my clit, and I came on his face with a ragged cry, my fingers twisted in his hair.

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