Page 32 of Cerban
I couldn’t speak. I nodded once, my fingers sliding into his damp hair, urging him lower.
With slow, deliberate movements he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and drew the fabric down, inch by inch, until the last barrier between us was gone. The cool air of the room kissed my newly bared skin, followed immediately by the heat of him – his hands, his breath, the living strands of his greenskin brushing against my thighs like a tide coming in.
He pressed a reverent kiss just above my hip, then another lower, each one a promise. I gasped; my body arched into his touch. He kissed lower, his breath warm and reverent against my skin. My thighs trembled as he settled between them, every brush of his soft lips sending sparks skittering along my nerves.
I gasped when he found my clit – light at first, as though he was still worshipping, still learning the shape of my need. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me, coaxing me open as he traced slow, deliberate paths with his tongue.
The world narrowed to sensation: the heat of his mouth, the pressure building inside me, the way my name sounded when he groaned it softly against me.
Pleasure gathered low in my belly, tidal and consuming. My fingers curled in his hair, holding him there as he unravelled me completely – inch by inch, breath by breath. His tongue did things to me that should not have been possible. I lost myself in the pure, primal pleasure as he guided me to my shattering, and I screamed and begged and screamed for more.
My body bowed beneath him, lost to the rhythm he set – patient, worshipful, unrelenting. He read every sigh, every tremor, as if my pleasure were a language only he could speak. When he finally drew back, his lips brushing my inner thigh in a lingering kiss, I reached for him instinctively, not ready for the absence of his mouth.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed, my voice ragged with wanting.
"Don't worry," he promised. "I'm just getting started."
He got up to his full height and slowly unclasped the leather wrap around his waist. My breath stuttered as I focused on what had been hidden from me until now. I had wondered, admittedly, what a finman cock would look like.
He was… magnificent.
Not like a human. Not at all. His cock was a rich shade of kelp green at the base, deepening toward an oceanic blue at the head, which glistened like wet stone. Thick ridges pulsed just beneath the surface, moving in a wave-like rhythm that made my thighs clench instinctively. That would feel incredible inside me. Below, there were three balls instead of two, their skin smooth and tight, framed by faint lines that reminded me of the ripples left by tidepools.
He curled his fingers around himself with ease, the skin beneath shifting under his touch, almost like it responded to his desire. My mouth went dry.
“I…” I tried to find words, but they scattered like startled fish.
His grin was feral and gentle all at once. “Do you like what you see?”
“You look…” I got to my knees and reached for him, unable to stop myself. “Beautiful.”
He shuddered at the touch, the ridges beneath his skin fluttering against my palm.
For just a moment, reason and rationality returned to my feverish mind. “Do you have a condom? Or…”
“There is no risk of pregnancy,” he said slowly. “Finboys are given a pill when they reach puberty that makes them sterile until the time they are chosen by the Matriarchs to have a mate. Then the process is reversed with yet another drug. I have not been given it. And I am clean. I won’t be passing on anything to you, even if it were possible between our two species.”
There was a lot to unpack. And we would, at some point. But not now. I licked my lips, staring at his gorgeous cock. He cupped my face with one broad hand, eyes dark and luminous at the same time. “Maelis…” he murmured, a warning and a plea all at once.
“I want to taste you,” I whispered back, my voice shaking with more than just desire.
For a moment he stayed very still, his thumb brushing my lip as if to anchor himself. Then he let his hand fall away, his body taut with restraint, as I leaned closer, exploring him with my mouth the way I had with my hands – slowly, reverently, like discovering a secret.
He groaned, the sound low and raw, his greenskin shivering beneath my touch as though alive, reacting to every stroke, every breath. My name spilled from his lips in a broken whisper, and the world shrank to the warmth of his body and the taste of salt and ocean on my tongue.
18
Cerban
She was fire and storm and everything I’d never dared to dream of.
Her lips were soft, reverent, and when she took me into her mouth, I nearly lost the last threads of my control. My hands curled into the blanket beneath me, claws scraping fabric, because if I touched her now, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Every instinct inside me clamoured for her – to hold, to claim, to bury myself in her warmth and never let go.
But she didn’t need my control. She had power in her every movement – not just the way she touched me, but the way she looked at me, like I wasn’t a curiosity or a monster, but something sacred. Desired. Hers.
My vision blurred, the lights of the room fading beneath the riot of sensation building inside me. My skin shimmered beneath her touch, waves of iridescent green flickering across my chest and hips, the algae reacting to her with devotion I couldn't begin to understand.
“Maelis,” I breathed, her name breaking from me like prayer. “If you keep… I won’t last.”
