Page 34 of His to Worship

“I am trying to be a patient male, ti khesi, but you are testing me. Are you sure that is something you want to do?”

My hands grip his broad shoulders as I weigh his words against my options. Whatever I do next will change our trajectory, I’m sure of it. The big question is, am I ready?

“If my smell bothers you, you could always fix it.” His eyes darken as he regards me carefully.

“Fix it?” His words are measured. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

My shoulders rise and fall. “I feel like that’s up to you.”

The words are hardly spoken before I’m sliding down his body, landing gently on my feet. Kuvier cups the back of my neck and leans down to capture my lips with his. The kiss, like all of the ones before it, is deep and sensual, and I find myself swaying into his embrace.

When he pulls away, his fingers massage the back of my neck. “If you say stop, I will.”

That’s the only heads up I get before he spins me, pinning me flush against him. His body drops to the ground and he pulls me with him. I land in his lap with my back to his chest, my body supported by his crossed legs, and my own legs scrunched in front of me.

His hands are on me before I can think, and once he starts exploring my thoughts evaporate anyway. He slides under my cloak easily, slipping underneath the yellow shirt until he finds what he’s seeking. My head falls back against his shoulder while he squeezes and massages my breasts with both hands. His thumbs brush back and forth over the peaks, his finger pads rough, scratching against me in a way that is absolutely intoxicating.

“Kuvier, I need—” My plea is cut off as my voice catches in my throat.

“Show me what you need. Take it.”

I grab one of his hands from my chest and move it down my body, slipping over the slope of my stomach and under my elastic waistband. Careful of his claws, I push two of his fingers through my folds. I use his fingers as my own, making quick circles around my clit.

“Oh my god,” I breathe out, the pressure starting to build in my abdomen.

Kuvier continues pinching and rubbing at my nipple with one hand. But, he takes over with his other, mimicking my circular motion against the bud between my thighs. I move my hands out of my pants, entrusting my pleasure to him and reaching back to find something to grip.

He bites the side of my neck, gentle enough not to break the skin but hard enough to spike my pleasure. I buck into his hand and he groans low in my ear. Then, to my chagrin, he pulls his hand out of my pants.

I make a frustrated sound, something between a screech and a moan, tilting my head back so I can look him in the face when I chew him out. My words never make it out of my throat because he sticks his glistening fingers in his mouth and his face clouds with lust so intense it makes me breathless.

A vicious snarl tears through him and the hand on my breast tightens, blurring the line between pain and pleasure. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop.

“Not enough,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he shocks me completely when he sticks a claw between his teeth and snaps it at the base.

“What—”

“I need to feel you,” he says as a way of explanation before he dips back into my pants.

I understand exactly what he means when his now-clawless finger pushes inside me. Just a single digit is so impossibly long and thick, that it sends me into ecstasy. His rough palm glosses over my clit with every movement and my body starts building pressure all over again. I lose control over my own body and it moves of its own according, riding his hand like it’s my fucking job.

“Kuvier,” I gasp his name as he thrusts deeper inside me.

“You are all I can smell now,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. “I do not think I am fixing it very well. Should I stop?”

I choke out the answer, “Please don’t,” but my sentence ends in a mewl when he pinches a nipple between his fingers. My hands grip his thighs, digging in as he lights my nerves on fire.

“Say it again,” he demands. “I want to hear you beg, ti khesi. Your pleas are so pretty.”

“Please, Kuvier,” I whine. “Please, please, please.” My pleases turn to screams as my body bows out of his lap. The blood races in my veins and everything goes hazy around the edges of my vision.

Pleasure courses through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before as I jerk and moan uncontrollably, dripping all over his hand. He doesn’t stop thrusting into me until my high dies down and my cries are tinged with desperation. When he does stop moving, he doesn’t take his finger out of me. I clench around him, the aftershocks gripping me. My breathing is still ragged when he nuzzles his nose against my neck, spattering it with kisses and tender bites.

“Find your breath,” he whispers into my ear, “because I intend to feel you again.”

We never make it to the reeds or the traps.

TWENTY-ONE

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