My brain froze for a split-second upon hearing the odd question.
“It is late in the day,” he continued in a slightly defensive tone when I just stared at him.
“Are you?” I asked, food being the last thing on my mind right now.
Varnog shook his head, his eyes locked on my lips.
“I am not hungry for food. My hands are already all over what I want to feast on,” I added, my palms roaming over him in a meaningful way.
A predatory smile stretched his lips. “In this case, feast we shall,” my man replied.
Carrying me through his large loft, the open plan design filled with light from the large windows all around, Varnog made his way to the impressive bathroom at the back. Like the rest of the house, it had been carved directly into the stones of the mountain, with very little material used so that it would retain its natural, organic feel. The bath itself had been carved directly into the ground and the stone polished. The shower—where he took me—gave the impression of being a natural waterfall.
He swiftly rid me of my clothes, and I returned the favor, getting frequently distracted by the amazing texture of his skin. There was something incredibly sensual and affectionate about showering together. The way his hands gently and reverently explored every inch of my body ignited a raging fire in the pit of my stomach. Still, we kept it to heavy petting and foreplay, until I naturally broke the rules.
As I was lathering soap all over him, I reveled in the silky smoothness of his skin. My hand ventured lower in order for me to slowly wash his manhood, earning myself a hiss of pleasure from him. Unable to resist, I pushed Varnog under the raining water to wash off the soap, then turning us around, I dropped to my knees before him, my back pressed against the shower wall.
Although generally similar to a human male’s private parts, the Scelk’s cock didn’t have any visible testicles as they were protected inside the body. Long and thick, his shaft rippled with ridges all around its length, even the head that, for some silly reason, somehow reminded me of a tiny version of a Bundt cake—but with a much smaller hole serving as the slit.
I took him in my mouth and stroked him with increasing speed. I loved the sound of his labored breathing over the pitter patter of the raining water on the stone floor, the way his abdominal muscles quivered with each caress, and the sexy stinging sensation of his hand fisting my hair at my nape.
Varnog whispered my name between two moans, and his hips began moving in counterpoint to my movements as he grew nearer completion. Keeping in mind Rogue’s and Liena’s warnings, I took him to the back of my throat one last time then slowly pulled him out while gently scraping his length with my teeth. But before I could fully pull away from him, Varnog shouted and brutally yanked my head away by my hair. I yelped and my head jerked up at the screeching sound above me.
Claws out, my man’s spare hand was clawing at the wall, his bladed tail waving ominously behind him. Instead of scaring me as it should have, it only turned me on further. The expression of pleasure pain on his face spurred me to accelerate the movement of my hand on him until he fell apart. Another yelp tore out of my throat when Varnog’s shout of release was accompanied by a powerful impact sound immediately followed by a small shower of tiny stone fragments.
Slowly rising to my feet, I stared in awe as my man’s beautiful, alien face dissolved in an expression of almost painful bliss, his legs quivering, the blade of his tail and the long claws of his hand stuck into the stone wall. I continued gently stroking him while covering his chest and neck with soft kisses until the last of his seed was spent. He then pulled me into his embrace and kissed me slowly, and with such reverence and adoration that my eyes stung.
We finished washing quickly, and he carried me to his room which connected to the bathroom through a secondary door. It had to be my favorite room in the house as it reflected so much of him in the color selection and the decorations. They were minimalist, but each piece meaningful. Although the Scelks—like every other member of the Vanguard—had full access to the furniture stores in the shopping mall of the Aspirants Residence, everything in the room was custom made.
Bane had built the bed with intricate carvings in the wood frame representing different patterns popular in the Janaurian culture. A couple of the windows were adorned with the stained-glass work of Tabitha. The bedding, cushions, and draping mixed craftwork of the Mimics and the Miegly. Everything else had been made by the Scelks. But the most striking were the group portraits of his people, of the Dragons, and of the Vanguard all around his work desk—the people he cherished the most.
Varnog laying me down on the midnight blue covers—the same color as my eyes—with silver accents of the bed brought back my focus on the moment. He settled on top of me, his shaft already hardening again. Although I was already wet and throbbing with the need to feel him inside of me, Varnog took his time pleasuring me first. Having discovered how sensitive my neck and the insides of my wrists were, he lavished them with kisses, nips, and gentle caresses before paying homage to the rest of me. It put me in a sensuous trance that enhanced every one of my senses and made my nerve endings even more responsive.
I had expected my man to be a rough and impatient lover, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Despite his burning need, my beautiful Scelk was a generous, patient, and attentive lover. I believed years of learning to rein in his savage nature explained this extraordinary self-control.
When he settled between my thighs and the rougher texture of his tongue—reminiscent of that of a cat—began to taste me, my back arched off the bed, and the dull throbbing in my core that had morphed into a general cloud of sensual well-being came back with a vengeance. Varnog licked, teased, and sucked on my little nub until he had me falling over the edge.
While I floated in a haze of pleasure, I heard the crinkling sound of a packet getting ripped open. The thought of the condoms still in my bag at the entrance flashed through my head. My eyes snapped open to see Varnog rolling one onto his proudly erect shaft. Knowing he hadn’t retrieved mine, I could only assume he had procured some earlier. I welcomed him with open arms as he settled back over me, the searing heat of his feverish skin on mine drawing a blissful moan out of me.
“May I join with you, my mate?” Varnog asked, his voice trembling with desire.
“Yes,” I said, my nails slightly digging into the small of his back.
His lips reclaimed mine as he began pushing himself inside of me. Despite his considerable girth, Varnog had me so relaxed and so wet that he was fully sheathed in no time. With a careful, controlled pace, he began moving in and out of me. The feel of his ridges against my inner walls was divine. And yet, it was the way he looked at me, kissed me, and touched me that had me riding high again. My Varnog didn’t just love me, he worshipped me. No one had ever been so attentive to my every response and pleasure.
My consciousness seeking his seemed to startle him at first, and then he welcomed the intrusion, baring his soul to me. I had never seen a psychic void such as his. Ours was endless darkness in the middle of which the dancing lights of our souls were sheltered by a spherical psychic shield. His looked like a starry night in the center of which the lights of his soul were constantly shifting around a small sphere of the purest gold, marking him as a rank five psychic.
I let my consciousness flow towards them, and they embraced me. In that instant, something shifted in both of us. The animal energy my mate had been reining in suddenly took me over. With me spurring him on, Varnog’s gentle lovemaking became wilder and more intense. I gave myself over to his increasingly unbridled assault, pleasure exploding as a bright light before my eyes as he pummeled my sweet spot with supernatural accuracy.