Page 11 of When She Wishes

"I can't touch you?"

"You can...next time. Tonight, it is about your needs." Because I need to go slow with her. I don't want to be too intense right away, because I have memories of that night and she does not. I need to ease her into being fully comfortable with me. Once she trusts that I will be everything she needs in a sex partner, then it can be time for my pleasure, too.

She leans back and licks her pink lips, flushed from our kissing. In fact, her entire lower face is flushed from where it has rubbed against mine, which is adorably charming. "So I just, what, starfish and let you take care of me?"

"If you like." I'll ask what a starfish is later.

I reach up and caress her cheek, brushing it with my knuckles. She closes her eyes and leans into my caress, and I remember this from before. That I couldn't touch her enough. That she seemed absolutely starved for affection. I want to give her everything she desires. So I take my time, running my hands over her body, exploring her over her clothing with gentle caresses and light strokes. Her arousal perfume fills the air, and my cock fills my trou, but I keep my focus on her needs. I cup one heavy teat in my hand and it spills over my fingers. Her nipple is hard against my palm and I adjust my hand so I can rub that hard peak with my thumb.

That elicits a much bigger response from her than the small sighs and hums. Payton whimpers, trying to move closer to me again, her lips parting. I bend over her, mindful of the protruding belly between us, and kiss her mouth lightly even as I work her teat. "Feel good?"

She whines her response, sucking eagerly on my tongue.

I tug on her nipple and her kisses become urgent, her arousal scent thicker. "Can I touch you lower?" I ask her, abandoning her teat to stroke the leg closest to me. In response, she spreads her thighs for me.

Beautiful. Perfect.

Lifting up the lightweight skirt of her long tunic, I slide my hand under the fabric and press against her cunt. I know from before that she has a triangle of soft fur here between her thighs, and I'm not surprised to find it completely soaked with her need. With gentle fingers, I press into her folds, seeking out the spots she'd more or less demanded that I touch that night. I find her clit—the small pearl of flesh that is so very sensitive—and swirl my finger around it.

Payton's fingers dig into my mane and she sucks in a loud breath.

"Too much?" I ask, reveling in her response.

Mutely, she shakes her head and pulls me in for another kiss. This one is less teasing and more of just her putting her hot, hungry mouth on mine, but I don't mind. I like that she's losing control. I stroke through her slippery folds, making sure to keep my thumb teasing against her clit as I seek her core. My claws are retracted, my fingertips blunt, and when I find the opening to her core, Payton moans with need.

I stroke a finger into her. She's tight and warm and wet and so keffing good, just as good as I remembered. I crook the finger I have inside her to search for the textured spot on her inner walls and I know when I've found it. Payton squeals aloud and practically pulls out a double handful of my mane. She quivers all over, her mouth open against mine as I tease that secret spot deep inside her.

She comes, and it's a thing of beauty. Her thighs tighten around my hand and she lets out a sobbing breath as she clenches all around me. Her cunt squeezes my finger in a vise, but I don't let up, not until I'm positive that she's spent. When I pull my hand free from her thighs, it's drenched with her juices, and I can't resist licking my fingers clean. "Delicious."

Payton whimpers, still spent.

I move in and press a kiss to her forehead. "I'll make you some tea."

A tired laugh bubbles out of her as I get up, and she gives me a dazed look. "You...that was incredible. How did you know how to do that?"

In the kitchen, I fill the teapot with water and put it on the hot pad. "What do you mean? We had sex, Payton. That is how you became pregnant."

"Not sex," she says, struggling to sit up. I head back to her side and help her get comfortable, pulling her dress back down around her knees and then fluffing her pillows. Payton reaches absently for me, trailing her fingers through the fur on my armas I return to the kitchen, as if she's reluctant to let me go, and I purr low in my belly. "The thing," she says. "With your fingers. Inside me. How did you know to do that?"

"You told me about it," I remind her. "In fact, you yelled instructions in my ear until I got it right that night we were together."

She's silent. I pour her tea and when I look over, her hands are over her face.

"Are you well?" I ask, bringing her favorite mug.

"I am utterly mortified, thanks for asking."

I chuckle at her reaction. So very modest. "There is no need for mortification. You directing me helped me immensely. I would have been far more embarrassed if I'd been unable to please you."

"You pleased me," she says, even as she takes the cup of tea from me. "My toes might never uncurl."

It is a small compliment, but one that fills me with pride. I am seeing to her needs—all of them. For me, it is no longer about just wanting to stay here on this planet. It is about wanting to stay with her. With my children. If she left for a space station, I would follow despite the havoc it would wreak on my lungs, simply because I need to be with her. "Drink your tea and then I will help you clean up and get to bed," I tell her. "You look tired."

She smiles up at me, her eyelids heavy, and I can't resist stroking my knuckle over her cheek. Go slow, I remind myself. Don't scare her away. But when she gestures at the couch and indicates I should sit with her while she drinks, I sink down next to her and pull her close. She leans against me, her musky scent lingering in the air and mingled with notes of tea. "You and your tea."

"Tea is soothing. Breathing in the steam helped my lungs when they hurt," I say, running my fingers through her hair."After a while, it just became a thing. It makes me feel better. Tell me you don't feel better after a nice warm mug."

"It's just...thoughtful." Payton takes another sip. "I'm not used to being taken care of, not before you got here. I was a slave for so long and even back on Earth, no one took care of me. I was the one that did all the work. It's taking some adjusting."

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