Page 2 of The Stone and the Star

Fucking hell, what is happening?

Her dress is unbuttoned, open and hanging off her shoulders like a robe as she sits down on the edge of the wooden chair behind her. I hadn’t noticed it until this moment, but now, as she leans back, planting her feet on the windowsill, it is my favorite item of furniture.

She shifts down further until her generous ass is balanced on the edge of her seat, her knees sharply bent. Then her feet slide wide apart.

Fuck.A growl rises in my chest and sticks in my throat.

Her pussy is bare and flushed with arousal. Her cunt and inner thighs glint with her slick wetness in the glow of the moonlight.

“What are you doing to me, little human?” I murmur.

Her delicate fingers, with their chipped polish and nimble strength, move between her thighs. She spreads herself wider for me…it must be for me… exposing her swollen clit. Two fingers pinch and rub the sensitive nub. She lets out a sharp hiss, then does it to herself again.

I breathe in the spiced scent of her arousal as it mixes with her natural perfume of clay and the botanical notes of her soap. My already-hard cock tents my loincloth, and it is only the night’s shadows that hide it from her.

Do I need to hide anymore?

After decades alone, stillness is my routine, and anything else is a struggle.

Her fingers slip lower, the tips of them circling over her entrance. She moves them so slowly, she is twisting her hips from the tease, bucking against the featherlight pressure. Round and round her fingers go, until she finally pushes in.

Before I can think to restrain myself, a moan escapes me, but she is too far away or too lost in her pleasure to hear me.

Her back arches at the moment of intrusion, her fingers shining with wetness as she presses further, then stops.

“Oh god,” she moans softly, holding her fingers knuckle deep inside herself.

Her eyelids close as she tilts her head back into the chair, seemingly trying to regain control of her body. She breathes deeply, her chest expanding on the inhale and breasts shuddering on the exhale.

Her eyelids flit open. Her pale blue eyes are dark now, shining with need. Her gaze locks back onto mine, and her fingers begin to move. She’s still teasing herself, groaning as she spreads her hole wide to me but never moving her fingers deeper.

She is tempting me.

She is torturing me.

I want to roar across the courtyard, tell her to fuck herself or I will replace her fingers with my stone cock and there will be no light teasing with me.

Slowly, she withdraws her fingers until only the tips brush her opening. Her hips haven’t stopped moving as cool air brushes against her sensitive flesh, but she refuses to do anything more than skim her wetness with the barest amount of pressure.

“Oh god,” she whimpers again.

What is stopping you, little human?

“Please,” she begs in a whisper, her pale brows pulling together.

She opens herself wider, her needy pussy clenching down on emptiness. Her body is begging to be filled, and still, she does nothing to satisfy her aching arousal but look to me.

She is waiting… for me,I realize.

“Please,” she pleads again.

Waiting for my permission.

It’s desperation that makes me move. That heady, needed feeling she gives me that I can’t be sure I’ve ever felt before prompts me to do it. It’s just a shift of my expression, no more than a softening of my features, but it’s enough.

“Fuck. Thank god… yes,” she groans as she plunges her fingers deep into her cunt. Her eyes slam shut with the intensity of the sensation. “Yes…yes…”

It’s all she manages to get out before losing the ability to form words.

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