Page 35 of Taken for Granite
“Hollow?”
He shook his head. “There are nerves inside, but I cannot feel much, only at the base.”
She started with the horn near his right temple, running her index finger and thumb down the curving shaft. At the base, she rubbed where the horn met his scalp and hair. His eyes fluttered closed and he shuddered.
“Good?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“We should take the edge off. Would that help?” Her hand brushed against his crotch. Another hiss but he lifted his hips, tugging his pants down enough to free his cock. He leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out.
His cock stood proud, dark purple with a vivid pink head, glistening with precum. Shaped liked a human penis, with a thick vein down the underside, she noticed the extras. It swelled in the middle, giving a girth that promised to stuff her entirely. Ridges ran down the top and she knew they would hit the right spots inside.
She licked her lips and moved to straddle his legs. The size of him was enough to make her reconsider and reminded her of the quote about how to eat an elephant.
When blowing a gargoyle, take it one lick at a time.
She licked the weeping head and the flavor of salted caramel burst on her tongue. Delighted, she hummed with pleasure and swirled around the head. She licked the underside, the thick vein throbbing and pulsing. With her hand at the base, she wrapped her lips around him and took him as deeply as she could.
His hand rested at the back of her head, guiding her as she worked him in and out. His strong fingers twisted into her hair, pulling. The sharp sensation zipped down her spine and went straight to her core. She didn’t know she was into hair pulling, but apparently, her body liked it. So much.
His cock pulsed under her tongue. Her hand, slick with his precum and her saliva, stroked and her head bobbed.
The light diminished and they were in the shade. His one functional wing wrapped around, creating a barrier between them and the world. He shielded her, cradled her, and crooned, low and sultry. The song of a male lost to passion. A song he sang for her.
He released his grip on her hair and tapped her head in what was apparently the universal sign he was about to come. She didn’t stop. She wanted him, all of him—every last drop. His cock swelled and twitched, and with a hiss, he flooded her mouth with salted caramel.
She remained still until the pulsing ceased. Sitting up straight, she swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Better?”
Tas collapsed back, tossing an arm over his eyes. “The best.”
12
Juniper
Leaving a trail of clothes behind, they somehow ended upstairs in the cabin. His hands traversed every part of her, exploring and memorizing her curves. They gave an appreciative squeeze to her breasts, not too hard, and he growled with approval when he reached her ass.
Juniper fell back onto the bed, and he covered her, his face buried in her hair. His lips skimmed down her neck and the valley between her breasts, not kissing or licking but his warm breath marking a trail in raised flesh and shivers. For a man who needed to fuck, he was taking his sweet time.
“Tas,” she implored, raising her hips. She ached for him. “I’m ready.” She’d been ready the moment his salted caramel cum hit her tongue.
She moved to kiss him, but he turned his head, then a strong hand pushed her back down. “That is not necessary,” he said.
“Oh. Do your people not...” She didn’t want to finish that question, because it asked if Tas kissed at all or if it was just her he didn’t want to kiss.
“No. We do not.”
Relief fluttered in her chest. Silly heart. Don’t get attached. He told you this was just to relieve his body’s needs, to purge the mating hormones so he can heal. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even like you.
“Like this.” Tas flipped her over and raised to all fours.
She bit back the snarky comment that she knew he didn’t want to kiss her, but did he have to act like he didn’t want to look at her? He was blind. The idea that Tas didn’t even want to face her during sex hurt.
Something about her breathing or posture must have betrayed her thoughts. His large hand stroked her back and caressed the curve of her ass. “Do not misunderstand. Female Khargals have wings. This way is familiar.”
Oh. “Sorry, I just assumed—”
His hands explored her back and sides, mapping her curves. He stroked her soft stomach, pressing his front to her back. She wiggled, spreading her legs wider, just as his hand delved into her folds. A low-pitched growl rumbled in his chest, piercing right through her.
