Page 141 of Mate
“Can I— ”
He sits back in the nest. Pulls me into him, wedging me under his chin. “What?”
“Can I touch it?”
“My cock?”
“No, your . . .”
He laughs. “Out of all the things to ask permission for, touching my knot is not one you need to worry about.”
“Is it sensitive?”
“I’m not sure. The knot and I are still making each other’s acquaintance.”
I peek up at him. “Does celibacy include . . .”
He snorts. “No. Though the Assembly would love to monitor the frequency of me jerking off.”
“Then . . . why?”
“It only happens when we’re with our mates.” His pecs rise, then fall as he catches his breath. “Or after we find them, anyway.”
“Oh.” My chest tightens.
“It’ll go down soon. Never lasts as long when I’m not inside you. Or maybe it won’t. It gets really happy when you’re around.”
I sit up on my knees. Observe him, fascinated by how free he is with his body. Even after three days naked, I still feel a little bit shy when I catch him staring.
But he said I could. Or, he said I didn’t even need to ask for permission. So I reach out and gingerly run a finger down his cock. The soft heat of him is a small shock, and I realize that I haven’t done this yet. Touched him. Enjoyed him.
I trail down to the base, where his knot is still distended and dark with blood. Koen shudders, eyes fluttering closed. His hand white-knuckles the comforter.
“Does it hurt?”
The question amuses him. “No.”
It’s an impulsive decision, leaning closer. And maybe the twenty years of forced celibacy did leave a trace. Maybe teenage Koen didn’t do italland left some things off the table. I can point my finger at the exact moment his quiet, curious expression morphs into wide-eyed understanding: not until my mouth is just a hairbreadth away from his cock.
Caught by surprise, at last.
“Serena— ” he starts, then stops with a choked groan.
I swirl my tongue around him. Suck a bit. He tastes like a drug. Pulsates in my mouth. Sends me into a stupor.
“Fuck,” he swears.
I don’t attempt anything fancy, but Koen seems dazzled enough. Speechless. His neck falls back, brow drawn tight and beaded with sweat. The head of his cock catches against my throat, and he runs a hand through my hair.
“I’m going to— You need to— No.” His cheeks are dark with blood.
I hum in agreement, but his scent is like a leash, tugging me closer, begging me for more. He needs me,now. It’s heady, having him at my mercy. Knowing that his pleasure depends on me. I smile, truly happy, and lick his knotonce.
It’s so rewarding, how he immediately starts coming. The out- of- control guttural sounds he makes. He grips my scalp so tight it hurts, and then he’s pulling me into his lap.
“You are so fucking— ”
His cock doesn’t flag. He drives inside me, hard, elbows hooked under my armpits, crossed on my back. The knot won’t allow him to go as deep as we want, but he certainly tries.
