“Open up for me, sweetheart.” Before she can respond to the request, I lean in close and place a kiss smack on her mons, shifting to give her the room she needs to move.
Inara moans, and her knees inch apart. Then she’s spreading for me, her calves riding my sides. I loop my arms around her thighs and position her legs over my shoulders.
I ease down until my face is nearly level with my squish mitten goal. When my mouth is level with my target, I let out an excited exhale—and Inara’s whole body tenses. I drag my eyes up from her plump flesh and meet her slightly agitated gaze. “You okay, baby?”
Inara bites her lip, one big fang revealed, turning a deadly weapon into a flash of sexy, dainty fangtip. She gives me a brave nod.
“Good,” I murmur. “Don’t be afraid to give me directions. If you like something or don’t like something, just tell me. I won’t be a dick and get mad. Okay?”
Worrying her lip with that killer fang, she gives me another nod, her eyes huge and focused on me.
“Damn, you smell good,” I purr over her in anticipation. And in an effort to break her sudden tension, I drag the side of my face over her mound.
The scrub of my beard makes her utter a startled word in another language—and she squirms under me with a strength that makes me glad I’ve got her thighs trapped over my shoulders, or I might be getting a patella to the browbone right about now.
I plant a big hand over her, and carefully part her with my thumb and forefinger.
Her belly goes concave as she sucks in a breath.
Smiling, but also in danger of drooling because Inara smells that freakin’ good, I move until my mouth is hovering over her. Then I exhale, deliberately aiming my breath to warm up her crease.
She moans a high-pitched sound that makes goosebumps sprout on my arms.
“Wait,” she suddenly pants. And her body goes rigid. “I don’t want…”
Abandoning my lock on her legs, I raise up over her, concerned. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No!” She turns her head away, unable to meet my eyes. Her profile is all small horns, their twists elegant, and her folded-back ears which are clamped tight to the sides of her head. Her blue skin is stretched over her graceful cheekbones just beneath her worried eyes, which are now a troubled lilac hue. “What if you… don’t like my taste?”
I inhale between her breasts, kissing one, feeling the plumpness squishing under my lips. They’re so damn soft. Scaly, but still soft. They basically feel like an areola all over, which isn’t weird at all. Guess I’m a tactile guy. The more I feel, the merrier. “I love your smell.”
If possible, I think she’s blushing indigo. “I’ve heard that females of my kind taste… sharp.”
“Sharp, like tart?” I ask, thinking of a lemon bar. Because that’s kind of what she smells like. And I love me some good ol’ lemon bars. Tangy lemony custard topped with powdered sugar? Yes, please. “I don’t know what your people like to eat, but here, the best desserts are tart. And me personally, I’m also partial to sugar and cream.” I run my thumb along her crease, gathering her slickness. Then I bring my thumb up and pop it between my lips, sucking it clean. I raise a brow. “Can I lick you until I get you to give me your sugar and cream?”
Inara’s eyes flash almost black. Her lips part and she bares her sharp teeth, putting them on unconscious display as she stares at me.
I tap the cushy top of her mound, right above where a fat, juicy clit is peeking out for me. “Can I give you a lick here? Taste test you?” I ask softly.
Slowly, she nods.
She widens her legs, helping me get back into position. My nose brushes her clit, and she jumps like a startled horse.
“Shhh, sweetheart.” I gently knead the sides of her ass.
Then I nose her clit like I’m giving it an Eskimo kiss.
Her chest hikes up once, twice, her breasts juddering as she inhales and exhales in overexcitement. “Oh, Creator,” she pants, sounding unsure and hopeful at the same time.
I lap along her lower lips like they’re scoops of ice cream.
Lick, lick.
Inara moans my name in a pitch high enough to shatter crystal. She writhes under me so hard I have to throw my weight forward to hold her down.
I grin into her pussy, my tongue depressing her clit. She tastes like a woman. Not freaky or unexpected or like anything but a good hot woman. A tasty woman.
Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship. I’ve missed going down almost as much as I’ve missed actual fucking. And Inara’s dripping like her cunt loves me.
I’m definitely loving her. I give her another lap. My beard scrapes her skin, and I don’t know what she feels, but I’m getting the sensory feedback of my hair skating against glassy thighs. But although her scales are super smooth, each one is convex and ever-so-slightly keeled.
Interesting change for sure.
My next lick is slow, and I have to shift my grip, wrapping my arms around her legs to trap her thighs as she tries to buck into my face to hurry me. “Nuh-uh. Lay there and take it, sweetheart,” I taunt.
She moans in response and moves restlessly.
I release one of her trembling limbs and glide a careful touch at her entrance. She gasps, her legs instinctively opening wider, allowing my shoulders to get closer. I gently finger her, seeking, sinking in slowly, searching to see if she’s got a g-spot. Or an a-spot. Anything I can dazzle her insides with, I’m all for tickling.
When I glance over the planes of her belly and breasts, Inara’s eyes are unfocused and her hand flies to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her moan as her cunt clamps around my finger.
Sucking on her clit, I curl my finger inside her, whispering my touch over her front wall softly. I don’t know if she can squirt for me; I don’t know anything about her biology. But I can feel her body responding to my touch, so I keep brushing the spot that’s making her thighs shake around my face. The walls of her vagina flutter and squeeze me, hard. I keep petting and petting with only my index finger, because she feels too tight for me to comfortably fit my middle one too.
So fucking tight. She tightens up even more as I gently assault her from the inside, and her begging turns into words I don’t understand, words no one on Earth has ever heard before as she lapses into her home tongue.
Gently stretching her with my finger, I drop my mouth over her clit, breathing on her some more, heating her blood right where I need her warmed up for me, and I give her some more of my tongue.
She screams like a velociraptor.
I’ve got to be honest: I was not expecting this. Also, this isn’t exactly the sound I imagine in my steamiest dreams, not even the apocalyptic ones where dinosaurs have been genetically engineered and loosed on the population (wherein I meet a wonderful woman, fall for her, and we bang each other’s brains out)—but then again, in those dreams, I’m usually running from the things that make this sound.
Wetness smacks into my palm, answering my curiosity in regards to the question of whether she experiences feminine ejaculation or not. Her vaginal walls are spasming, hugging, clutching at my finger, clamping down on it, and it takes everything in me not to surge over her, spread her legs wider, and ram home.
Two glowing eyes meet mine as she raises her head, looking drunk and shy and thrilled. “Oh, Matthew… you are amazing!”