Page 58 of Taken to Voraxia
His tongue slips against mine as he gently thrusts in and out of me, moving with a slowness that makes it hard for me to think. To breathe.
My core squeezes around him and the slickness coating my clit creates the most delicious friction every time his hips piston to meet mine. His tail twists with my tail and when he reaches behind me to cup its base, I black out. The orgasm hits me like steel to the skull and I shout Xoran’s name to the werro root ceiling as my insides clench and spasm and tremors rip through my legs. My back arches and Xoran kisses his way down my neck.
The moment lasts for breaths of spans. The experience lasts for spans itself.
In and out of sleep. Thrusting in and out of me. I come a thousand times more and when I next blink awake, it’s to the sensation of cum weeping down my inner thighs. I can feel my belly full with it and see my own orgasm still coating Xoran’s lips.
Xoran and I have taken each other in every room of the house and we are soaked in the product of each other’s pleasure. Now, he sleeps like a youngling beside me on the lush, fur-covered pallet and I think to myself that perhaps it’s time for his next gift.
Cautiously, I ease myself out from the tangle of his long limbs and I’m surprised — but not that surprised—when he doesn’t wake. He just eases onto his back and stretches slightly against the furs.
After a quick trip to the washroom, a quick rinse off, and a quick change of wardrobe, I walk back into the bedroom and stand right in front of the pallet at his feet.
I stroke one of his ankles, and say gently, “Tax xala, Xoran.”Good morning.
He blinks his big black eyes open and I see his muscles tense when he first reaches to the place in the furs I’d just occupied, only to find it empty. His lazy lids snap up after that and his nostrils flare.
He sits up slightly but, seeing me, eases. And then he blinks and heseesme and I laugh. His ridges burn bright purple and I don’t mistake the way the fur draped across his hips suddenly lifts, as if by magic.
“Ver…verax?” He fumbles. I’ve never heard him fumble before and the nerves I’d had that he wouldn’t like this gift fade away like ash in water.
I push my hair back and roll my shoulders away from my ears, hoping to appear in the best light. “I made it after you cut the breeding belt. I figured it was like a gift. You get to unwrap me.”
He licks his lips. His ridges flare white and then purple once again. “You made this of the breeding belt?”
I nod and bite my bottom lip.
“Turn for me.”
I flush wildly, but do as he says, turning in a slow circle so that he can see the way I refashioned the destroyed silken pieces of the breeding belt into a series of sashes that drape below my behind, wrap around my stomach, cross my breasts and finally fasten around my neck. Sort of like I’m wearing a collar. Many collars.
I come back around and don’t know if it’s possible for him to be any more surprised than he is now and I laugh again, very lightly. The whole world feels light and bubbly around us.
He crooks two of his fingers at me. The two smallest ones. I guess that means to come forward? I do, and slide slowly up onto the furs. I ease my way between his legs and slowly pull the fabric off of him.
My hands find his thighs and he is utterly speechless as they slowly massage their way up. I reach his cock, but instead of grabbing it, I touch it so, so gently.
A dark groan leaves his throat. His head falls back, but he lifts it with narrowed eyes, as if he just has to look. I laugh and lean forward, then blow. Very lightly my breath fans over his cock.
This close, this focused, I can see each ridge and drag my fingers over every one. There are six, and they get bigger the further up I go. The one right under the mushroomed head is bigger than a knuckle — his, not mine — and his moan shakes the whole house when I rub small circles around and over it.
I lean in even further forward and then I stretch my tongue towards the slitted tip of his dick, wetting it. He rumbles and shakes. His arm reaches for me, then balls into a fist as if he wants nothing more than to force me to pleasure him fully, but at the same time, can’t or won’t or loves the torture I’m delivering him.
I lick him a little more, tasting and kissing my way down to the base, covering every salty inch. It’s smooth at the shaft and slightly rougher over the ridges. I imagine if a woman were dry it would hurt very much, but I’m never dry when he enters me. When he invades me.
Scooting a little further towards his knees, I spit onto his cock. He starts, surprised by the action, and though I’m a little embarrassed by it too, I’m so turned on I don’t stop.
The breeding belt band I created slides around, rather than over, my pussy lips I wonder if I can’t come just from the pressure of the belt squeezing me like this.
I drop my mouth to his balls and worship all three of them equally while, at the same time, running my fisted hand up and down his long shaft. My head bobs and I feel the breeding belt pushing on the outsides of my mound, pressing them together, clenching so tight.
I start to sweat. Fire bathes me. I can’t take it anymore. I throw one leg over his and start humping it madly, desperate to use the friction of his shin to get me off.
My lips tighten as a sudden clenching spasm wrecks me. I moan loud and hard, his balls vibrating in my mouth, as the delicious pressure of his plated shin ignites lightning within me.
At the same time, he roars my name to the ceiling and seconds later I feel hot, inky cum spew over my hand and fall heavy in my hair and drip down my forehead onto my face.
I lift up and start to wipe it off, but Xoran jerks up into a seat and grabs my wrists. He reaches for my face and takes a finger to my cheek, smearing the cum there so that it covers me even more thickly.
