Chapter Twenty-Four

Cassandra

The space between their bodies was already slippery, but Cass didn’t slow. She had to make up for the times she hadn’t reciprocated, even though he’d told her he didn’t want her to. She had to show him that his needs were important, too, and that she honored him as much as he did her. The way she should’ve done, despite how he’d pushed her away. She kissed his ears, his neck, his jaw, sucking in pieces of his cool gray skin and caressing them with her tongue, until she felt the vein that traveled up his shaft pulse in her grip.

His steady stream was powerful enough that it hit her chin. She felt it spray against her neck, her chest, trickling between her breasts.

“Cassandra,” Qadaire whispered her name like a prayer. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I know.” She couldn’t go back in time and shake herself silly. But she was here, and there was nowhere else she longed to be. “I’m here now.”

She brought her lips to his, and this time, there was no urgency. It was a lazy thing, their tongues dancing languidly, melting into each other like merging cells. He explored her tenderly, all four of his hands becoming acquainted with her body. She’d seen how fluid his dexterity was. It felt heavenly. She slid off his lap and chuckled when his warbles turned into whines.

“Lie down,” she commanded, and he obeyed. She knew her weight was no consequence to him, as he’d carried both her and Zero around the house at the same time. She knew he breathed, but it didn’t seem like he would squish beneath her weight. Their bodies were sticky and slick between them, but it wouldn’t make sense to clean up yet, not when she needed so direly to be filled by him.

His hands roamed the expanse of her back, ignoring nothing. She’d long embraced her body’s beauty and praised it for the things it allowed her to do. Still, she loved the way he really worshiped every bit of her, from stretch marks to birthmarks.

His bottom hands grazed over her hips, then lower, taking huge handfuls of her ass and squeezing, pulling apart, then smooshing together. She giggled and rose onto her elbows. She petted the feathers on his head and kissed him in that slow, exploratory fashion.

“I’m glad I followed the crows that day.”

“You really didn’t want to work with me.”

“No.” She laughed. “I didn’t.”

He smirked and tightened his hold on her, then tilted his hips, driving his textured bump against her pussy.

“Ooh, that felt good. Do that again.” She leaned her forehead against his, and he stole a swift kiss before grinding against her again. This time, she pushed her hips down, causing a deeper friction that made her walls flutter around nothing. His cock drove through the spot where her thigh attached to her pelvis, slippery with their mess. His stiffness had barely waned. It twitched beneath her. She rose onto her hands and wrested control, grinding against the ridges of his vent with more purpose. She needed him so badly that even the minute amount of pressure had the bundle of nerves in her belly begging for relief. “Oh fuck, Qadaire, I’m going to come again.”

He tipped their hips and pressed her pelvis harder against him, matching her every grind. Her parted folds slid over every ridge of his cloaca. It continued to leak, the spot between her thighs becoming saturated with both of their fluids. It was so wet that she slipped messily over him, lewd smacking noises filling the room.

A more subdued orgasm skittered through her. She panted down at his gray features and knew he was close to bursting again, too.

“Cassandra,” he warned.

“Get inside of me. Right now.”

He groaned as though he’d waited centuries to hear those words. He flipped her over and loomed above her. He rubbed the bulb of his cock against her folds, wresting primal sounds from them both as he slipped up and down over her slit. He was larger than anyone she’d had before, not large enough to split her in half but enough that she knew it might sting if not for the excessive amount of liquid involved.

“Now, Qadaire, please.”

His cock pressed inside of her, slowly, as though every centimeter pained him. She could see him straining not to come, his face a rictus of control. It was all she could do not to rock her hips. When he finally filled her, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She circled his waist with her legs and ground upward, rubbing her clit against the soaked ridges of his vent, angling her hips to draw him deeper.

“Cassandra!”

“Just keep going.” She barely recognized her own voice. She wanted to be pumped full of his come, wanted him to keep fucking her after he burst. “Don’t stop. Just fuck me, please, Qadaire. Harder.”

The rumbling purr of his warbles took on a bestial edge. He started a deadly pace inside her, rutting into her like it was a matter of life or death. His feathers tickled her neck as he nuzzled there, those symphonic sounds vibrating between their chests.

Cass wanted to wrap those sweet little sounds around her like a fleece blanket. She could almost cradle them in her hands, those delicate sounds that were as small and lovable as a fluffy baby crow, and every bit as wild.

The tension mounting in her core zapped through her limbs, making her legs twitch. Her insides fluttered with every obscene squelch, the sloppy sound and his warbles an erotic beat for her involuntary mewls. A few thrusts later, his arms tightened possessively, the two around her waist locking her in place, another pair gripping her hair hard enough to tingle on her scalp.

“Yes,” she breathed. She used her legs around him as leverage to swoop her hips up and down, loose on the upward stride and squeezing her inner muscles on the downward. She moved like this, siphoning every drop of his come into her body, until his ragged breathing was back to normal. She stilled, not wanting to move in case he was too sensitive.

“Cassandra.”

“I know.”

She kissed him then, on every feather she could reach. His throat vibrated against her lips with those delicious sounds, and she rushed to swallow them straight from his lips.

“I could kiss you for hours.” She nipped his bottom lip before claiming his mouth again. “I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner.” Something hardened in his features, his gaze flicking away.

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t feel worthy of your affection.” He smiled a droll, humorless smile, and Cass could guess what he would say next. “What does someone like me have to offer someone like you? You’re intelligent, beautiful, confident. I’m an abomination. I know”—he exacerbated at her scolding look—“but it’s true.”

“Q, I don’t think you understand.” She peppered his cheeks with kisses, placing one on the tip of his nose for good measure. “It doesn’t matter if you were the hunkiest hunk I’d ever seen. Most likely, I would still fall for your mind first. Attraction would follow. It’s you”—she tapped his temples—“that I’m falling for. Your beauty and your handiness are just a bonus.”

“I’m working on believing you, dewdrop.”

Cass claimed his mouth for a reassuring kiss. He reciprocated, then kissed down her jaw to nuzzle her cheek.

“Sorry about these damned noises. I can’t seem to shut them up.”

“Stop trying. I like them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I like them a lot. They make me all tingly inside.” She giggled as she recalled the way they vibrated against her pussy.

“Hmmm.” He rolled his hips, driving his cock deeper and rubbing his vent over her needy bud. “And this?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice caught somewhere in her throat. “That, too.”

His wings beat in a flurry of obsidian, then she was on top of him. She pressed her hands against his chest for balance and swirled her hips. His cock was somewhere between erect and soft inside her, but it was large enough that she didn’t struggle to keep it locked inside. This angle was easier to rub against all the textures of his cloaca. She moaned, pressing her hands down harder for purchase.

“Fuck yourself on me. Show me what you like.”

His bottom hands rested on her bent knees, their touch light but for his nails grazing her skin. His top arms were bent at the elbow, hands behind his head, making his biceps look even more impressive. He was an absolute snack. Instead of his insecurity, he had every right to be arrogant and self-absorbed.

Cass pinched her nipples, tossing her head back slightly, putting on a show for her beast. It would take time for them to learn each other’s bodies and how those bodies played together, and more time for her to convince him of his beauty, but now was a good place to start.

She played with herself as sultrily as she could, feeling only a little silly, but the heat of his gaze was encouraging. She took his lower left hand and brought it to her mouth, sucking on it as she would his cock, while she rubbed around her hardened clit with her free hand.

After a few moments of this, his cock twitched inside her. It was stiff enough now that she flattened her palms on the mattress for support as she traveled tip to base and back. Every time he bottomed out inside her, she ground her clit against his ridged skin. As the pressure grew, she gripped the feathers on his shoulders like they were the only thing holding her upright. Her mind blanked as her nervous system shut down. She nearly fell on top of him, his name tumbling incoherently from her lips.

Like it was second nature, Qadaire’s four arms flew to her hips and waist, where he held her completely still and fucked up into her limp body. Her orgasm shattered her from the inside out like she was a dropped beaker, all of her contents spilled out.

“Cassandra,” Qadaire all but whimpered her name before coming undone inside her again.

She collapsed on top of him, where they breathed hard for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms. When she felt she might be able to walk to the bathroom without wobbling like a Russian nesting doll, she propped herself on one elbow.

“Shall we take a shower?” she asked between kisses she peppered along his brow.

“Together?”

“Obviously.” She giggled. Before she could climb from him, he maneuvered them from the bed without removing himself from her. Probably smart, since she had two massive loads of come inside her.

She was still in awe of how huge this master bath was, and that he had rigged up his own plumbing. After seeing the greenhouse, she believed he could do just about anything.

The corner bath and shower were easily the size of her closet. The rim was wide enough to be a bench, which was perfect for what she had in mind. She slid from Qadaire’s grasp, a flood of thick white come dripping from her ruined pussy. She adjusted the faucet to a nice warmth and cleaned her legs. When she turned toward him, she stifled a thrilled smirk at his already re-stiffened cock.

Qadaire must have gotten the wrong impression from her look because his body language shifted in a way that hid his lower half from view. Her heart panged with sadness for all the negative thoughts he harbored about himself. It was time to nip those thoughts in the bud.

She reached for his bottom set of hands and turned him into the water. Then she slid her hands around his waist, over the downy feathers on his backside, and playfully squeezed his ass cheeks. He jerked back at her touch and she giggled, smiling up at his tentative glare.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Qadaire.” She claimed his mouth before he could contradict her.

His shoulders released some of their tension, his strong arms encasing her until they melded into one. She loved how he made her feel, so safe and petite. She broke their kiss and pushed on him lightly until his back was against the wall, those beautiful wings clinging wetly to the wall.

“You aren’t an abomination.” She kissed his neck, his earlobe, his jaw, while roaming her hands down the planes of his toned abdomen. “You’re not deformed.” She drifted her touch lower, over his cloaca, tracing the V of his hips where smooth planes of skin met downy feathers. She kissed his shoulders, his biceps, his nipples.

“What are you doing?”

She lowered herself onto the ledge, guiding his hips to turn with her. She kissed the same route down as her hands had taken. When she reached his cloaca, she peered up at him seductively, her hands fisted in the feathers on his hips.

“I’m worshiping you.” She ran her tongue over the ridges of the puckered skin softly, a caress. A promise. He pierced her with a dark look full of heady desire and trepidation. Before she could lick him again, his bottom right hand weaved in her hair and tugged her away.

“But why?”

“Because you deserve it.”

With that, she surged forward, not caring that his fistful of hair burned her scalp. The guttural sound that emanated from him was more than encouraging. She could only assume he’d never had this part of him touched, let alone played with like an erogenous zone. She tilted her head to glimpse what it was doing to him. His left hands were fisted where he leaned heavily on the shower wall. His upper right remained on the back of her head, and when he reached for his cock with his free hand, she intercepted, placing it on her breast instead.

“Let me take care of you,” she crooned as she licked her lips to taste the salty-sweet liquid that seeped from every dip of his vent.

“Cassandra.”

“Mmm?” she murmured, ignoring his impatient tone.

She laved her tongue over the bumpy surface again, then used her tongue to coat his cock with its lubricant, and her saliva. With a carnal growl, he pinched her nipple hard enough to make her squeal. She took his cock in her hand and slipped the tip into her mouth, continuing to caress and tease his vent with her free hand.

“Cassandra!”

If her mouth weren’t so full of his cock, she would’ve laughed at his urgent tone. Instead, she hummed around the mouthful and bobbed her head, pushing his length to the back of her throat. Steadying his cock with one hand, she came off of him with a pop, then lathered his shaft with his lubricant and proceeded to suck it right off.

She realized she’d been rolling her hips over the cool rim of the bath, which brought to mind the image of him humping the bench, and she giggled.

“What?” he barked darkly, clearly on the lest vestiges of his control.

“Just the way things have changed.”

Without waiting for a response, she dipped her head again, swallowing him up as much as she could. The downright depraved groan that ripped from him resonated everywhere they touched, his cock jumping in the back of her throat. She moaned along with him and moved her saturated hand down to his sack.

“I’m—argh, woman, I’m going to spill down your throat if you don’t—”

That was all the warning she got. She didn’t spare a moment to consider the sheer amount of come that’d poured from him each time so far. A vein pulsed against her tongue. She steadied herself by fisting the feathers on his hips for dear life and swallowed for all she was worth.

By the time the stream slowed, she was seeing stars.

Qadaire flattened himself against the wall and panted like he’d lost a race with a jaguar. He opened his eyes to hers at the same moment she was wiping her mouth, and they both began to laugh.

“Come here, dewdrop.”

She took his hand and let him roll them under the running water. They washed each other in comfortable silence, but for the sound of his melodious warbles.