Page 8 of Fleshbound
“Best add a third… or a forth,” Quill said between panting breaths. “I saw the size of your snake.”
Corven’s chuckle brought goosebumps to his flesh.
Another finger was added, stretching him ever wider.
“Oh, laddie… ye feel so good round ma fingers. A canae wait tae feel this tight flesh around ma cock.” Corven dropped kisses on Quill’s hip bone. “Ye are perfection itself. A coud no wish for another better.”
The praise warmed Quill deep. He wanted more of it. Desperately. “I want you inside me.”
“Aye. I dae as well, but there's plenty o time for that,” Corven replied before suckling Quill’s cock back between his lips.
Onward Corven pushed him, well, well past the line. Each time he’d had an orgasm stolen, they’d swept farther from it. He was in no man’s land, caught up in the ley lines with no compass moon. All he had left to hold on to was Corven.
Would he ultimately drown in the undulating waves of pleasure?
When his orgasm approached for what seemed the dozenth time, he prayed to whatever gods would listen to his plea. If he didn’t come soon, he was going to splinter. He still might if he did come, from the sheer force of what Corven had built within him.
The second he reached the pinnacle, Corven held him tight, his cock still lodged deep in the man’s throat. He roared, his back bowing, as he came, spurting his seed onto Corven’s waiting tongue. Wave after wave tore through him, his thighs shaking forcefully as the crescendo stretched him thin.
When he finally collapsed back into the grass, tears formed in his eyes. He’d never had an orgasm anywhere near as complete or earth-shattering. He dragged air into his burning lungs, allowing fat tears to roll down his cheeks.
“Nay… what is this?” Corven asked, moving up to wipe his tears away.
“They aren’t sadness. The opposite in fact,” Quill whispered.
A cocky smile crossed Corven’s lips. “I rocked yer world, didnae I?”
Quill’s face couldn’t get much hotter, yet it did. “If you’ve been trapped in that book for three hundred years, how are you aware of talk like that?”
“I can hear just fine. I listen tae wha’s goin on outside ma book,” Corven said. He brushed back Quill’s sweat-dampened hair and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “An I was up there in that noggin, I told ye. I got an education.”
Quill tensed. Was that Corven’s purpose? Seeing the secrets inside his mind. “Just what do you know?”
“Everything ye do an more,” Corven replied. He laid back in the grass and pulled Quill into his embrace. “An ye ken a lot.”
“Were you there searching for something?” Quill asked, unable to look Corven in the eye. He fingered a few chest hairs instead.
“Wha woud I be searchin for other than the key tae yer heart?”
Quill scoffed. “I know some think me naïve, but I assure you I’m not.”
“I ne’er said ye were.”
“I have secrets. Secrets I didn’t agree to share with you,” Quill whispered.
Corven lifted Quill’s chin with his forefinger. “I didnae come here for yer secrets.” He grinned. “Well, the ones outside yer bit, tha is.” His smile faded. “I only came for ye.”
Quill eyed Corven. “I’d really like to know how you’ve gotten this magic past me without me sensing it.”
“Tis a dream.”
Quill climbed astride Corven’s waist, his hard shaft between his cheeks still wet from whatever the man had spread upon him. “I’m not stupid. You know that I’m not.”
“Ne’er said ye were.”
“I know this is no dream. You’ve taken me into your book. How?”
Corven chuckled, but there was no mirth to it. He looked to the ground beside them and plucked a tiny blue bell from the grasses. “Donae ken.”
