“You want me to fuck you right now?”
She sounded more like a tigress than a human in her response, and he took the moment to shove everything off, exposed, the only barrier between them being air, and bucked a few times, not quite inside her, but teasing, erection over her stomach. She looked down at one point, and a feral kind of madness took over her face.
While she watched, he shifted himself, lowered his body enough, so that with a good angle, he finally pressed the tip against her entrance. She stiffened, breathing increasing, waiting, longing, and he stretched out the moment, until pressing forward, feeling himself sink into flesh, into damp, tight warmth, groaning from the sensation. There was a little resistance, and she shuddered, letting out a gasping moan, body rearing to meet his.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take all of me in.”
A fresh sheen of sweat covered her brow, and her hands grappled with his back, trying to force him to move, to take up rhythm. That eagerness spurred him on, made him move almost fully out of her, before thrusting hard and deep. She howled in pleasure, and he struck up the pace, gritting his teeth against the devilish sensation of her trapping him, squeezing him, generating a maddening kind of heat there. He buried his face into her breasts, the smooth material of her bra annoying him briefly, but he kissed with an open mouth, feeling how hard and fast her heart raced. He listened to her body, sensing she needed more, not just the thrusts, and a hand sought out her bud as well, brushing it, though it was coated in wetness. God, she was ridiculously turned on, and those sounds she made—each one came like a stab to the gut, but not the bad kind.
More the kind that made him addicted to the whole act, that made him crave so much more contact. What other sounds might she make? What other ways might she react?
Her body shook, muscles tensed, and he knew she was close, by the way her breaths became ragged and her thighs seemed to jump and twitch with every stroke he did.
He worked at her relentlessly, grinning, encouraged, finger pressing harder, feeling that part of her pop out, and when she cried out, her mouth opened then in a kind of silent scream, the muscles in her neck tense. She seemed to melt before him, lost in the throes of her orgasm, and her body convulsed around his erection, triggering him to go straight over the edge, emptying into her.
He remained locked into her for a moment, just about wrapping his head around the fact that this happened within the space of two hours. Perhaps she was lonely, and horny, and wasn’t about to turn down any kind of opportunity. He certainly didn’t blame her in that aspect. He knew the feeling of being lonely and horny himself, of longing sometimes for something more.
Maybe not the ideal way to start off a trial relationship, but he wasn’t complaining. He moved away from her, letting her calm down.
“That,” she said, “was…” She struggled for words. “Something.”
“You’re good at this,” he purred, and something blazed in her eyes. She went from her resting position to straddling him, and he stared at her in pleased shock. “You’re not done?”
“Oh no. One time is never enough for me.”
Well.
Wasn’t that just nice.
* * *
One time definitely wasn’t enough for her. Just when he thought she was finally done, finally about to sleep, some kind of hidden surge of energy compelled her to indulge all over again. The passion was so ferocious, so bottled up, that even he had a hard time keeping up. His body grew sore and battered, yet he couldn’t say no to that whirlwind of passion. Since he wasn’t always, well, up, that left a few extra creative ways of getting the job done.
He woke up in a tired but happy stupor, seeing faint cracks of light stream from the stairs that led above. He was alone now, but he didn’t mind. He gave the room a better examination, appreciating the aesthetic of it, the shelf full of bottles, a drained lime on the bar counter, on top of a chopping board, and the remnants of drinks tasted from last night, with the congealing green and pink colors at the bottom. Pretty great flavors. Talented in more than one way. He stretched, feeling his body creak with exertion, and rolled out of bed. Ready to face the day, feeling a little elasticated.
A human that could wear even a dragon out was impressive, in all honesty. He had some difficulties at times reconciling his own sex drive with the people he met.
He saw Tegan in the kitchen, preparing herself some food. She heard him come in, turned, and smirked. Actually smirked. “Well, look who didn’t disappear in the night.”
“I think you were the one who disappeared.” He raised an eyebrow. “Since I woke up, and there you weren’t.”
She nodded. “Yeah, fair. I guess I’m a little used to my visits sneaking out at the ass-crack of dawn. It’s the way things are, but still, sometimes I wouldn’t mind some morning play.”
He coughed, blinking a few times. “Okay, I didn’t expect to meet someone quite as interested in the sex as me.”
“It’s been a while,” she said, taking a moment to look him up and down appreciatively. “And you are… well endowed.”
He flushed in pleasure from the flattery. He was hungry, in the conventional way, but maybe he could spare another moment or two bending her over the kitchen counter.
Which he did. Privately, he wondered if her enthusiasm might have scared away a few of her former interactions. But anyway, early morning sex was on the menu, and so were eggs and bacon.
He could think of worse starts to the day. People taking charge of their own pleasure—good and healthy.
Trouble was, being good at sex didn’t mean being good in a relationship. Once the personality started rearing its ugly head in earnest, that became the make or break.
You’re not worthy of love, came his superior’s voice. You’re low-life trash, only fit for the leavings of our people. Only fit for humans.
He’d sort of flipped the finger at that point and decided to exclusively date humans, while his parents, his family, they begged for him to see reason. To stop this nonsense of dating humans and to return to “real” women, because it was the only chance their family had of rising.
Real women. He had to laugh. Stupid, bigoted, ignorant. That summed up his entire family. He watched Tegan clean the dishes, and then dress up, heading out somewhere.
“You’re going to work?”
“No, that’s not until later. I’m going to check on my allotment now.” She gave him a wan smile, and he perked up.
“Allotment? You grow things?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to grow the ingredients to make some of my own drinks. It’s only a small thing. Wouldn’t be able to have much, but it keeps my hands busy. It’s good, honest work.”
“You like keeping your hands busy?” He considered asking to come along, but this sounded like a pretty personal project for her.
“Always.”
“Is the allotment for fun, or… something else?”
At this, she paused a little, and made a face. “Both. I mean, it’d be great if I did make something of it. My own drinks, my own branding. If I get enough of my own wares, I could sell them and maybe even run some cocktail bar myself. It’s just baby steps right now.”
“A cocktail bar? That’s your dream?”
“It’s dumb, I know. I just… I’m pretty good at mixing.”