Page 50 of Tattle Tail
“You have me.” He reached up, cupping the side of her face. She nuzzled his hand. “You always will.”
She took his cock in hand, delighted at the firmness and velvety texture of the slick skin. It was a fine specimen, thick and promising to fill her completely. Stroking his length, she watched his reaction.
“Is it…” Doubt filled his voice.
“It’s perfect.” Human penises differed from Tal. The end had a mushroom cap and a ridge. A vein ran down the underside. She had never seen one in person.
Curiously, she bent down to lick under the head.
His hips shot off the ground. “I won’t last long if you do that.”
“Good?”
“Phenomenal,” he panted.
She licked the weeping head, enjoying the burst of salty musk. After all, he had a taste of her. It only seemed fair.
He reached for her head, cupping just behind her ears. He groaned and murmured words of praise. Her tail lashed from side to side in pleasure. She licked the length of him, enjoying the way he responded, and nuzzled at his heavy sack. Her core ached with need.
He tapped her head. “I’m close.”
“How do you want me?”
His eyes flashed. “Any way I can. Everything.”
She moved over him, lined up his cock to her entrance, and slowly sank upon him. The stretch and the feeling of fullness satisfied her in a way she hadn’t felt in too long.
He watched her, the reverence in his eyes possibly a trick of the flickering campfire. She didn’t think so. For as much as Joseph teased her for being a terrible liar, he displayed his every emotion and thought on his face. She had once thought his face unreadable, but now she knew the truth of him.
And of herself.
She loved him. Somehow, over the last two years, between the teasing and bickering, she’d grown to care for him.
She moved over him, watching rapture wash over him.
He wasn’t her friend. He was more than that. He carried her heart.
He wrapped his fingers around the base of her tail, tugging slightly. Raw desire flowed up her spine, making her gasp at the sensation.
Joseph
Heat gripped him, and it would have been easy to lose himself, to let sensation take over. Instead, he watched Peaceable chase her pleasure.
Light and shadows played across Peaceable’s figure, weaving a sensuous pattern. Her eyes fluttered close as she rocked, riding him. She was glorious.
She planted one hand on his chest, fingers splayed wide. Claws scraped lightly against his skin.
“Mark me. I want everyone to know how I drove you wild,” he said, snapping his hips up to prove his point.
A rumble, half-moan and half-growl, emanated from her. The sharp pricks of her claws dug into him with a satisfying burn.
He reached out, tugging a lock of her hair. She melted, leaning into his hand, and purred.
Yes. How had he ever thought she was cold? Fire ran through her. She was always so controlled, but not for him. He got to see the passionate heat at the heart of her.
He couldn’t let her go. Whatever he had to do, whatever stars needed to be aligned to convince Peaceable to throw in her lot with his, he’d do. She was his.
With a growl, he rolled them over until Peaceable was on her back. Dark amber hair spilled across the rumpled sleeping bag.
