Page 27 of Seducing Scylla
“No? Perhaps I should try again?” Scylla leans down and whispers in my ear.
Did I die and go to heaven? Because I could seriously get used to this.
28
Scylla
“Let me pleasure you?” Morgan’s voice is dry and raspy from screams of pleasure, but her eyes are heavy with desire as she stares up at me from the water.
My mouth pops open, speechless. No one has touched me intimately since becoming what I am now. I nod.
“Show me where to touch you. Show me how to please you,” Morgan whispers, licking her lips, and desire courses through me.
This is a fever dream, I am sure. I will wake up and none of this will be real. How could it possibly be? How could my mate be so utterly perfect for me?
“Here.”
I take her hand and bring it beneath the water to the apex of my tentacles and the sensitive spot there. Her gentle caress makes me shiver in anticipation. Slowly she kneads my skin and muscles,checking in with me to see what causes a reaction to her touch. All of it does. I never want her to not be touching me ever again. My breath comes in short, sharp pants, ecstasy taking over.
She gasps as I move her body over me until she is straddling my tentacles, her sex grinding on that sensitive spot while I bring the tip of my tentacle up to tease at her opening. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she finds a rhythm that works for us both, her breasts bouncing in the water. She moves her hips, rubbing her clit against the sensitive spot at the top of my tentacles. The tip of one eases itself inside her, eliciting a delicious groan from her mouth.
I run my tongue up her neck, collecting the water that beads along her skin before taking her mouth in a punishing kiss, gently nipping at her tongue and lips. Heat builds in my core, an interesting and new sensation. I rest my forehead against hers, losing myself in these new feelings.
One of her hands trails down along my collarbone to rest upon my breast, lightly teasing and plucking at my nipple. I shiver beneath her touch, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths as I thrust into her with my tentacle and she increases her rocking, gliding up and down over my tentacle and hitting the sensitive spot just right. Ican feel the slickness of her nectar coating my limbs. The sweet smell of her arousal coats the air and my eyes close as I inhale deeply. The scents increase the experience, encompassing all my senses.
Morgan reaches down to caress the apex of other tentacles while grinding on me and I let out a surprised cry of release, the feeling overstimulates my brain and I stutter, my movements jerky and erratic as I come for my mate. Morgan chuckles, her hand coming up to caress my face, and places a tender kiss upon my lips. My breath is ragged, my chest rising and falling in deep breaths as I try to collect myself.
“You did not finish,” I point out as Morgan slows her movements along my tentacles.
She shakes her head, smiling. “That was just for you.”
I growl. “That will not do. My mate must come again.”
She squeals and laughs as I flip her to her belly. Suspending her in the water with my tentacles as I bring her spent pussy to my mouth to feast upon her once more, her laughter quickly morphing into moans.
29
Morgan
Isnuggle into Scylla’s chest where we lay in her furs, her tentacles woven around my body. Little round marks dot my skin where Scylla’s suckers have left their imprint on me, and I know she’s quietly pleased with herself as I catch her admiring her handiwork often. Since we consummated our mate bond, we have barely been able to keep our hands, or tentacles, off each other. I was worried about clothing before, but I haven’t had much need for them since.
It’s funny to think how it was only a few weeks ago I was stacking shelves at the city library unbeknownst to me that I was about to embark on a terrifying adventure that would land me here on a sentient mythical island with a mate, who also has tentacles. It’s the stuff only written about in my smutty little romance books and yet here I am, living the same fantastical story.
We did take a break in our lovemaking to venture out to the beach again, hoping maybe some of the women might have come back to the washed-up container, but there was nothing besides my cardigan tangled around a low-lying tree branch, flapping wildly in the wind. Regardless, I was happy to have it back even if there was no sign of anyone. I still worry about the others out there alone and hope the island is at least taking care of them as it has for me.
The island has been leaving little gifts for me. We assume it’s to make my life a little more comfortable here where there is no such thing as a job to keep you busy throughout the day or the guilty pleasures that I’m used to.
The day we came back from the beach, we stumbled upon a little cave with hens inside it. There’s no door but they won’t leave. So now we take care of them, and they take care of us with their eggs. What I wouldn’t do for a greasy cheeseburger and a good book though.
Wriggling myself free from Scylla’s embrace, I shrug my dress and flats on and grab the bowl of scraps from last night’s dinner. Heading out into the cave system and turning right at the first fork, Ienter a small cave with a hole in the ceiling, letting the warm morning light stream in.
I click my tongue. “Breakfast time, girls.”
Three reddish brown hens cluck their way over to me and I spread the scraps out on the ground for them before collecting the couple of eggs they left.
“Feel free to leave some books any time,” I call out.
“Who are you talking to?” Scylla sits up in the furs as I re-enter our home and set the bowl of eggs on the stone counter.
