Page 102 of Shielded Heart

It would’ve been so easy to toss the gift aside, tear off his loincloth, and give in. It would’ve been so easy to accept whatever pleasure she offered. There was no denying that hewantedit. The mere thought of her hand on his shaft was enough to send a thrill up his spine and almost make him spill like an untried whelp.

But he wanted to seehersatisfaction more. He wanted to see if the gift made her face light up, wanted to see if it would coax that special smile out of her, the one she reserved only for him. The smile whose radiance was so great that it burned away all his worries and fears for a little while because it told him that, despite everything, Samantha wastrulyhappy.

Arcanthus drew in a deep, steadying breath. He gently removed her hand from his groin, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss atop it. “Icanwait. For a few more minutes, at least.”

He released her hand and raised the gift, holding the thin, rectangular package up on one palm. “For you, my flower.”

She accepted the gift, glancing up at him for a moment before giving it her attention. Her fingers flexed around the box, and her smile softened. “I haven’t been given a gift since the birthday right before my dad passed.”

“Consider this the first of many,” Arcanthus replied, battling the urge to take her in his arms.

She offered him another glance, flashing her white teeth in a widening smile, and tore away the paper wrapping from the gift. Her breath caught. “Is-Is this…?”

“A tablet, yes. I believe this is the preferred model for most artists in the city.” He gestured to one side of it. “The stylus attaches itself there. It has touch controls, holographic projections, everything you might need. I figured it would be a good starting—”

Samantha threw herself against Arcanthus, clutching him in a tight embrace. Her tears flowed immediately onto his chest.

Arcanthus put his arms around her and held her close, cradling the base of her skull with one hand. “You’re crying because you’re so overwhelmed by my thoughtfulness, right?”

She laughed, the sound rich and genuine despite being made husky by her tears. “Yes. I…didn’t know you actually listened.”

He shifted his hands to her shoulders and leaned back to look down at her. “Samantha, I’ve been enraptured by your every word since the first one you spoke to me.”

Though her eyes were watery, she smiled in exactly the way he’d hoped for. “I know thatnow.”

Arcanthus moved a hand to her chin and brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Good. Know italways. And I suppose it goes without saying that I am willing to offer my services, should you require a live model.”

“I think”—she moved her hand to the clasps of his loincloth—“that I should take a closer look…just to make sure you’re a subject I want to depict. I want to keep my artistic standards high.”

She unfastened the clasp. His loincloth, under wrapping and all, slid down his legs to pool on the floor. Samantha pressed kisses down his throat and chest, stopping to take his right nipple into her mouth.

Arc hissed through his teeth as her tongue flicked around his piercing.

Samantha smiled and released it. She lowered herself to her knees, keeping one hand on his hip, and set her tablet down beside her.

Arcanthus groaned as his cock pushed out from his slit, tendrils writhing in eagerness for her touch. “Who taught you to be so wicked, little terran?”

She moved her other hand to his tendrils and stroked each in turn, allowing them to caress and curl around her fingers. Arc’s muscles tensed, and he drew in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the feel of her touch. His tail straightened for an instant before sweeping side to side, restless in his anticipation.

“A devilish fiend,” she said, pulling her hand free of his tendrils to grasp his base.

The tendrils sealed, forming a solid shaft. Desire burned in the pit of his stomach. “Seems thisfiendwas an excellent teacher.”

Samantha leaned closer and brushed her lips over the tip of his cock. Her eyes were dark and hungry. “It helps when the student is soeager.”

Her lips slid over him, and she sucked him deep into her warm, wet mouth. The gentle scrape of her teeth sent delightful jolts through his shaft.

He whispered something—it might have been her name, or it might have been a wordless utterance of pleasure—and reached forward. His fingers felt oddly clumsy as he removed the tie from her hair and spread her dark locks about her shoulders. He slipped his hands into her hair and grazed his fingertips along her scalp, transfixed by the way her lips stretched around his shaft.

When she rolled her tongue—stroking the sensitive nodules along his shaft and pulling him deeper still—Arcanthus couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His grip on her hair tightened, and his head tipped back. He feared any more would make his knees buckle, but he didn’t want her to stop.

He never wanted her to stop.

“Fuck, you’re good at that, my flower,” he rasped.

She moaned, slid her hand from his hip to his ass, grasped the underside of his tail, and squeezed.

A strange, thrilling sensation arced up his spine, and his lower belly clenched, increasing the building pressure in his cock. He growled, and his hips bucked; he felt his tendrils stirring, felt them preparing to spread apart for his fast-approaching climax.

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