Page 41 of I'm Not Your Pet

To memorize it.

To memorize the way Roark’s scent filled my nose, apple-like and sweet. The way his tendrils held me tight, so all I could do was enjoy what he decided to give me. He was huge. So fucking huge. This massive, gorgeous creature. A perfect combination of the familiar and unfamiliar. So gentle, yet carnal all the same.

I wasn’t sure what had changed, why he felt so inclined to touch me now when he’d all but ignored my body for a month. But I didn’t complain. It felt so?—

“Oh shit fuck, fuck, fuck—” My head tossed back as his tongue finally—oh god, finally—slithered around the length of my dick. It was long and dexterous, and I would’ve been amused by the way he was testing my texture and shape like he was memorizing it, if I hadn’t been gasping like a fish out of water.

Fireworks exploded behind my eyelids as my back bowed and cum shot right into Roark’s waiting mouth.

Hegrowled, and I was spinning, spinning, spinning. But he didn’t stop. He just kept slurping and pulling, slurping andpulling. The frankly obscene noise echoed through the room as my dick struggled to rise to the occasion. To keep spilling, even though it was empty.

“I can’t, I can’t—” I chanted, overstimulated and breathless as the wet muscle sucked around me. “I can’t, I can’t.”

And still, he milked me.

Milked me so tight and snug that a few minutes later he’d managed to jerk my cock to hardness again despite the oversensitivity. My chest was shuddering. I could hardly get a coherent thought to form in my head as Roark pulled back. Settling above me, his head framed by the stars on the ceiling, Roark deliberately licked his lips.

Jesus fuck.

I couldn’t help but groan.

“Please,” I whined, jerking my hips upward, my body a sweaty mess. “I want your dick.” No, that wasn’t right. “Ineedit.” My hips humped up again and Roark chuckled—or whatever his approximation of a chuckle was—it was a dark rumbly sort of sound, like my desperation both pleased and amused him. Apparently he didn’t need to understand what I was saying to know that I was begging.

My ass clenched and his tendrils sucked harder around my wrists and thighs, the ones at the crease of my groin beginning to tap at my balls.Tap, tap, tap.My eyes rolled back.

My dick was so hard it hurt, despite having just come.

Roark released one of my wrists, only for his other limb—limbs?—to replace it, tying my two wrists together above my head in a sticky pink knot. Meanwhile, his free hand formed once again and he pushed down the hem of his own pants.

“Fucking finally,” I gasped, straining to see what I was sure was a monster cock between his legs.

I…wasn’t wrong.

It was monstrous alright.

Just not in the way I’d expected.

And there were two of them.

Twococks.

If you could call them that. Rather than human-esque dicks, two fat, flushed purple tentacles with suckers down their lengths nestled between Roark’s legs. They had thick bases and flared, tapered tips that pointed in my direction, almost like they were reaching for me. They writhed and danced, winding together. A filthy slurping sound filled the air as they rubbed their suckers against each other, a slick viscous fluid glistening along their lengths.

I was suddenly breathless all over again.

Shocked and intrigued.

The biologist in me reawakened.

Tentacle dicks.

Two of them.

Roark wrapped his thick fist around them, squeezing them with a sharp inhale as more fluid leaked free, wetting his fingertips. I forgot about his other tendrils immediately. Holding impossibly still, I watched enthralled as his cocks danced and jerked, still reaching for me like they had a mind of their own.

Oh fuck.

Maybe they did?

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