Page 39 of Hook, Line, and Tentacle
“So good for me.”
The sound he makes is something close to a whimper.
His tentacles twitch, almost pleading. One of them wraps over my shoulder, and I turn absently to drop a kiss to it, then grin up at Cal. “So, which one of these is going inside you?”
He gives a low, broken little laugh that’s barely a sound. “Love… don’t make it weird.”
I tip my head, lips brushing the underside of his dick. “Weird?”
“You choose one,” he mutters, voice a raw scrape of nerves and arousal. “The less I think about it being one ofmine, the better.”
A surprised laugh bursts out of me. “Would you prefer to pretend it’s mine?”
Cal’s mouth falls open, his head tips back, and all the air punches from his lungs with a moan he can’t hope to control. “Ohfuck,Neviah.”
I hum as I push up onto my feet, dragging him with me by the wrists. He’s pliant in that perfect way he only ever is with me, a little unsteady but smiling, his eyes dazed and hungry. I drag his shirt up and over his head, and as he tosses it aside, I run my hands down his chest. He leans into my touch, as if he’s helpless to resist it.
“I think we should do this in bed,” I say softly. “Don’t you think?”
He just nods. As I turn to our bedroom, a tentacle slides lightly along my spine, another teasing over my hip. Sneaky little bastards. I make a pleased sound in the back of my throat and swat lightly at one. It snaps back playfully, flicking against my thigh.
“You’re feeling needy, aren’t you?”
Cal’s voice is low and rough as he follows me through the apartment. “I always feel needy with you, love.”
I turn and guide him round, until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, then press gently. He goes down without resistance, sprawled across the sheets like some kind of divine offering. I climb over him and settle between his legs.
My fingers glide over his stomach, over his hip, down to his cock, flushed dark. He twitches in my hand, a soft sound rumblingout of him as I tease lightly over the head, then down to cup his balls, slow and lazy, letting him feel the weight of my attention. He flings an arm over his face as if he can’t even bear to watch.
“We take it slow, okay?” I reach for the lube in the top drawer of my nightstand, keeping my touch easy, gentle.“No tentacles yet. Just me.”
He lifts the arm when he hears the snap of the plastic lid, eyes flying open to watch raptly as I slick my fingers, lips parted and chest rising and falling too fast.
I meet his gaze. “Is this alright?”
“Yes,” he says immediately, voice ragged. “Yes, fuck—please.”
I ease my hand down, cupping him again, but sliding lower, slow and steady. I trace the rim of his ass with just the tip of one finger. It’s a feather-light touch, but Cal jolts, a sharp gasp punching out of him.
“So,” I say softly. “Have you thought about that before?”
He hums a questioning sound, but it breaks on the edge of another groan when I circle the tight ring of muscle again, just barely applying pressure.
“If I was like you?” I murmur. “If I had tentacles too?”
His entire body stiffens. And then he moans—long, tortured, desperate. I can’t even tell if it’s because of the idea of me being like him, or because I’m touching him exactly how he wants.
“You have, haven’t you?” My hand flexes on his thigh where I’m holding him open. “Thought about me using them on you? You made fun of me for wanting your tentacock back when we first met—”
“It’snota tentacle,” he says, almost distantly, an automatic response at this point.
I giggle, leaning down to mouth at his cock where it flexes against his stomach. His tentacles are all sprawled out across the bed like they’re melting into the sheets. It’s like they don’t know what the fuck to do in this situation. I’ve short-circuited him, and I’ve short-circuited all of them too.
I let my finger circle that tight little ring again, but this time I press forward—just the first gentle push, the slow pressure of my slicked fingertip barely breaching him.
Cal’s head tips back, his mouth falling open on a gasp that sticks in his throat so suddenly he almost chokes on it. “Oh. Oh,fuck.”
A tentacle flips up and curls around my wrist, but it doesn’t stop me. It just holds on, trembling, like it needs to know what’s happening but doesn’t want to be in charge. My index finger sinks to the first knuckle, slow and careful, and his cock twitches against his belly as a breath punches out of him.
