17. AHANE

This was surely a bad idea.

And while this was a bad idea, it also meant they didn’t have to discuss the Site Master”s belief that they were mates. And that he was hiding his mate under a cloak out of shame, and that he refused to wear his trinket. Which, even in a place like this, was reprehensible.

Let everyone think that. Except Thalia would have questions. She seemed to have no idea what mate meant. Her Grey translator must have deliberately not had that available to her. No surprise, given the Greys refused to take mates. Or if they did take mates, no one knew about it.

The way Thalia licked her lips made his cock even harder. What would it be like for those lips to explore the head of his cock and taste his honey?

She pulled off her dress and tossed it away.

He uttered something in High Dialect, unprepared for her body on such display and how he was permitted to admire it wholly. The dip of her waist drew attention first, and her body flowed up and down from that dip. To the curve of her hips, the smooth rounded lines of her thighs and calves, dainty ankles, and the subtle gradient of darkening color from the inside of her thighs to her plump cleft dusted with a light coating of hair that coiled in a tight pattern. Her shoulders and arms were smooth, the curve of her neck elegant. Her breasts had large, dark areas around the nipples, the skin slightly textured, and her nipples especially seemed to be texture upon texture.

His tongue begged to taste them. Would her skin be so lusciously salty as her mouth? The infinite textures that were so subtle but endless?

Her coloring was plain, but her body was so beautifully made. Balanced, proportional, sweeping graceful lines and curves and delicate flourishes. Everything about her was so simple, so minimal, so pure, so refined.

He unbuttoned and stepped out of his pants. He ran his hand from the head down his shaft, enjoying her bright stare as she took in his shape and size and pattern. More honey dripped from the tip.

Being able to stroke himself while gazing at her would be more than enough. Was that what she wanted? To watch him?

She approached. Then caught herself and pointed to the bed. “Lay down.”

The bite of command sent another jolt through his balls, and his cock produced a spurt of honey. It hit the floor.

Intrigued, he did as she directed.

She knelt on the bed at his hip. She was focused on his cock and studied its length.

Honey dripped from the tip onto his abdomen. He breathed, willing himself to hold still, while hoping she might deign to accept his honey. Just a sample of it.

She decided on a course of action and her hand cupped the underside of his shaft.

He twitched all over.

“Hold still,” she said, her voice rough but sweet, the tips of her little harmless nails digging into his shaft in the sensitive parts. She shifted her hand so her palm pressed into him, and her fingers pulled at the skin of his balls, lifting them slightly and sending shocks through the nerves. He groaned again.

He brushed his tail along one smooth thigh, mindful of her healing injuries, and dared to brush her ass.

She twitched her hip. “Don’t.”

There was a bite of command and then something else that sank deeper. He didn’t like what was under it, but her weight pressing into his cock burned it away.

One of her nipples brushed the groove of his hip as she leaned over him. He twitched again and bit down a soft groan. She was so so so soft. How could anything be so soft?

She squeezed his shaft. “I didn’t say you could touch me. Hold still and maybe I’ll let you. Eventually.”

“And if I don’t?” he rasped.

“I’ll leave you to finish yourself with your own hands. Now I want to play with your cock.”

She dug her palm into him and pushed down, then flicked her hand to grasp his shaft and stroke upwards while her other hand gripped and squeezed his balls. Honey poured from his tip, coating her hand and his shaft. He silently pleaded with those sweet lips of hers to duck towards the tip and lick it. Just once. He panted, cock throbbing, and she shot him a wicked look.

Fuck. She knew what he wanted. And she wasn’t going to do it. The word no hung on those lips. A fun no. A teasing no.

And she wasn’t even going to give him that single syllable and it dangled there on her lips.

His cock offered more honey as urgency built deep in his balls. She stroked him and ran her thumb from the base of his cock to where it joined his balls. Her teasing no pulled on his nerves and magnified everything. His claws dug into the mattress.

“Hmm,” she purred, sliding her hand up his length once more, contemplating his anatomy. She flicked her tongue over his tip, smoothing the bubble of honey while holding the base with her other hand.

Her tongue was a little red triangle between her lips and she admired him and she was so fucking soft. She pulled her hand down his shaft, fingers finding two sensitive ridges on either side and pressing down as she drew the skin taunt and somehow excited every single fucking nerve.

He shouted as his cock abruptly erupted and honey shot over his abdomen and chest. Ropes splattered his red scales. She worked his cock, draining the last bits as his balls seized and clenched until he collapsed back, useless and staring at the ceiling while her little hand worked the last bits from him, his fluids coating her hands, and his cock offered her a few more pathetic spurts in an attempt to win her lips.

“You,” she informed him in that malevolent purr that nothing as soft and small as she was had the right to own, “are a mess.”

Yes, yes, he was.

She moved along him and hooked her honey-covered finger through his lips, giving him a taste of his own fluids while smearing it over his lips and chin.

Her smile…

His cock spurted once more, making him moan and quiver with pleasure/pain.

Her finger pushed deeper into his mouth.

What was she… doing…

And fuck, it was hot.

“You came too fast,” she purred. “I didn’t get to enjoy myself.”

He had been celibate for a long time…

Then she leaned down and kissed him, slowly, fingers still in his mouth while she added her tongue to it. He clenched his claws against the urge to grab her and devour her and kiss her hard and tumble her onto her back. His tail lashed against the bed, shifting into a dozen different shapes to fit whatever this was, and it fit none of it.

Was this accepting his first honey? She seemed to be exploring her fingers more than his tongue.

There was a scent rising off her skin that made him salivate and settled against his scales like mist.

She pulled away and disappeared from the little room for a few minutes.

What the hell had just happened?

…and could it happen again?

She returned with a damp cloth and began to clean up the honey smearing his body.

He grabbed her hand in horror. “No.”

“No?” she asked, that tiny furrow between her brows.

He didn’t have a good answer for that. Traditionally, the ravaged was attended by the ravage-ee, and odd as it sounded, the Human had ravaged him. Not that he hadn’t permitted himself to be ravaged. He struggled, and said, “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Thalia.”

“Oh, you think you’ve earned the pleasure of pleasing me?”

Did Human females expect the males to earn the privilege of their pleasure? Did she require seeing his performance before she permitted him to amuse her? That his cock pleased her? That he produced enough honey to suit her? Was it a test of his control that he would comply with her requests even when fully aroused?

The prospect of any of those excited him like a prod right to the base of his still-eager cock.

He extended his hand and ran his talon down her bare arm, and she swatted him away. Gently, dismissively.

She cleaned him, paying particular attention to the honey that had accumulated around the base of his shaft, getting very close, and he silently begged her to sample just a taste of it.

Thalia was waiting for an answer to her question. It hadn’t been a rhetorical question.

A strange thrill filled the chambers of his hearts. A cocktail of elation, thrill, something primal and raw. “No, but I will.”

That didn’t seem to be the answer she had been expecting, but it was the only answer he had to give. And from the way the stars deep in the wells of her dark eyes seemed to brighten, it was an answer that pleased her.