Page 42 of The Longing

I squirm, and he huffs, an obsidian claw sliding through the linen over my stomach and up to my chest, splitting the garment in two and exposing me to him. Fenrother parts the ruined fabric and traces a claw over one of my breasts until he reaches my nipple and it swells into a little peak.

The way his eyes widen is delightful. The way he puts out his tongue and then laps over it is even better. The two parts entwine over the sensitive end to pull slightly and make me gasp.

“You make the best sounds,” Fenrother says, sweeping a thumb over my breast. “They set me on fire.”

I feel a flush rise up me from my toes. No one has ever said I wasnoisybefore. Except Fenrother likes it.

“I like your tips,” he says, teasing my other nipple. “They’re good and my text says they produce milk.”

He fastens his mouth over the second one, sucking hard.

“Not all the time!” I exclaim as the suction becomes painful. “I’m not a cow.”

Fenrother makes a grumbling sound deep in his chest. “When?”

“When I get pregnant…if I get pregnant. I will produce milk for the baby.”

The way his eyes light up absolutely should not make my core clench as tight as it does. Fenrother is experiencing all these things for the first time, and yet, he knows what he wants.

Everything.

His fingers slide down my front, over my mound to where he has been before. One slides through my folds, finding my clit and circling slowly. My hips lift into his touch, unable to stop myself.

If we have sex, that will be it. I will have given myself to the Wyrm and there will be no going back. Without any birth control, any pregnancy if it is, indeed, possible, will happen.

Only, what I have nudging up my thigh can’t possibly fit inside me.

“Spread for me, little mate. I want to see you,” Fenrother says. “I want to explore what I have claimed.”

I do as he asks, unable to refuse. He nestles his massive bulk between my spread thighs and stares a heated stare before pushing a digit deep inside me, his thumb massaging my clit and…to my surprise, another finger pressing at my bottom hole.

“Fenrother!” I pant.

“I like it when you call my name,” he rasps. “I like you have two holes. I want to be in both of them.”

“I haven’t…ever done that before,” I say, before realising the folly of my words.

Fenrother wants all of me, every single inch. He isn’t going to stop until he does.

And I’m not going to prevent him.

He dips his head, and removing his hand, he shoves his entire face into my pussy, making the worst possible sounds as he uses that incredible tongue on me. It’s all I can do to hang onto his horns as he eats me out with a level of gusto no human male has ever done. I feel my orgasm rising, rising until, with little warning, it crashes through me, fluid rushing out and straight into his mouth.

Fenrother rises, licking his lips covered with the evidence of my enjoyment. “This is good, but I need more.”

“More?” My mind is ablaze with the climax, fogged with pleasure, unable to function in its entirety.

“More of you. You are too small, and I want to sheath my pizzle in your slit,” he says, teeth gritted. “I need you to give me more.”

“I don’t think you’re going to fit, Fenrother,” I say, remembering the feel of him in my hand, the heft, the length, the girth.

The scales. The head which opened, grasping at my fingers. The complete and utterYeaveringnessof his cock.

“We are destined to be together, my mate,” he says, “and my venom will assist.”

“You’re venomous?” I grab his horns and pull up his head, staring him dead in the eye.

Fenrother opens his mouth, sharp fangs protruding like needles on either side.

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