13. Yera

Chapter thirteen

Yera

H e holds me all night, never asking for more. His hands never roam from their original position. The only move he makes was to place a gentle kiss on the back of my neck.

I don't know if he can sense my tears, but his arms stay locked around me.

Telling Arrick my story, our story, was cathartic. Even now, my eyes drip with uncontrolled tears while I stare blankly into the night air. It feels like I'm shedding my hurt and worry, like once there are no more tears to cry, I'll return to myself.

This wasn't my first breakdown. I've been in therapy for years and have a good grasp on my panic attacks and depressive moments. It's possible, subconsciously perhaps, that I chose a job that put me alone in the woods for long periods for a reason. Nothing calms my mind like the smell and sound of a forest.

The night passes, and I still find myself far from sleep. All my tears are gone, dried, and stuck to my face like sandpaper. A recap of the day plays on a reel in my mind, and it's not the harpy attack I keep playing repeatedly.

It's Arrick's big black eyes scanning my face. The way he brushed his thumb over my lip. The way his thick, strong fingers pressed into the arches of my feet. How his big frame covers and pushes up against me right now. Heat pulses between my thighs.

Oh shit, not now, Yera. You literally just had a breakdown.

His brawny arms are still wrapped around my waist, and I want to take his hands and push them between my legs. To feel his thick, calloused fingers rub against my sensitive skin.

Unfortunately, I can't do that. From what I remember, Arrick has most likely never had a lover, a discovery I made all thanks to a gossipy sprite named Charlie. So forcing his hands down to my cooch is probably not the best or most sensitive way to engage with him—first-timers and all.

Oh fuck, but I ache so much right now. I can't even discreetly touch myself because his fucking hands are wrapped around me. It's also not uncommon for me to get super horny after an episode—another thing I'll need to address with my therapist when I get home.

Perhaps if I stop thinking about him, this desperate need will fade. I try to picture the fearsome gargoyle-like creatures shrieking their vengeance over the peaked treetops.

Then I imagine the Alfanc smacking into my back and dragging me into the water.

Then I see him again, concerned, looking down at me, his gentle hands checking my skin for more injuries .

Fuck, his skin. The white skin was jarring at first, but now I've seen that contrast with the black tattoos covering his entire torso. Damit, Yera, you're not doing yourself any favors.

I move a hand slowly up my leg, testing to see if it will wake him. So far, so good. His breathing is still even.

Are you really going to touch yourself while he spoons you?

Damn, now I'm picturing his body pressing into mine. How it would feel if he were hard behind me? His length is digging into my ass.

Fuck it. I'm doing it!

Hopefully, I can get this done on top of my clothing because getting my hand into my tight athletic shorts without him noticing will be virtually impossible. At least the material is thin. I don't know what I would do if I was wearing jean shorts.

I move my hand up my thighs until it meets the heat at my core. I glide a finger gently between my legs, feeling the heat at my core. There is still material between my finger and clit, but the friction is glorious. I rub soft, teasing circles around the apex of my thighs, slightly shifting my hips with the motion. I want to run my other hand over my aching nipples, but that would surely wake him up.

I circle my clit desperately, seeking release, but I can't move fast enough or rock my hips in the way I like.

My fingers are still rubbing tense, wanton circles when his hand moves from my waist.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, what were you thinking? Of course, he would wake up. You dumb, horny fool. You couldn't wait until you were alone?

"What are you doing?" A low baritone voice rasps. His lips are so close they graze the shell of my ear, making me quake.

"Nothing, sorry. I think I have a mosquito bite. I was scratching it. "

His hand moves to my arm, which is stretched incriminatingly low on my body.

"No, you weren't." His hand moves lower on my arm, revealing my indiscretion. I'm frozen with embarrassment. "Do you need some help with that?" His voice is so low and sultry that I bite my lip at his question. Then I remember he's a virgin, never having been with a woman. I don't want this weird, touching session to be his first. I want his first time with a woman to be perfect. To start with soft kisses and be, you know, in a bed.

"No, I'm sorry. I know you don't have much experience."

His hand moves lower.

"I don't want to sully your first time touching a woman with this."

He stops. "What do you mean, this ?"

"You know, we haven't even kissed yet. We're not even lying face-to-face. Don't you want things to be perfect?"

"This is perfect." he says. His voice is so husky and full of desire that I almost forget what I was protesting about.

"You know what I mean." I jerk my shoulder back at him in emphasis.

"I have a woman with her beautiful, soft body rocking with need. I may not have much experience, but I'll do whatever you like." He holds a clawed hand out for me to see. Before I blink, the claws retract, leaving only black, blunt nails. "What could be more perfect?" He pauses, thinks for a minute, and then continues. "However, if you're concerned about it, adding one more thing would make this perfect."

Dare I ask? Fuck it. I'm too turned on not to.

"What's that?" My voice is low and sultry.

"When you put your hands between those beautiful, round thighs, were you picturing me? "

The man can't speak for one hundred and fifty years and, in five days, has somehow mastered dirty talk? Two can play that game.

I move my hand to the waistband of my shorts, skimming it over the flesh on my stomach. Then my other hand goes under my tank top and sports bra, running over my peaked nipple. His breathing hitches when he notices what I'm doing.

"This is what I wanted to do to myself, when I was thinking about you." I roll my hips when my hand finally meets the bare flesh between my legs. "I wanted to grab your hands and shove them down my pants the entire time I touched myself."

He's panting now, and his hands trace the lines of my arms to each of their sensitive destinations. When he has made his way down my thigh, his hand meeting mine, he pauses again.

"Will you show me what to do, how you like to be touched?" His hand is atop mine. I run one long line through my core and stop on my clit, circling slowly for a moment. His chest rises and falls rapidly behind me. I move my hand away and wait to see what he does.

One big finger rests on the seam of my sex and then slowly pushes into the wetness there. An audible hiss comes from his throat, followed by a low groan.

"You are so fucking wet." He strokes this thick finger through my pussy, moving slowly and cautiously, memorizing me. He grazes my clit, and my hips roll and buck at the contact. "Is that where you like it?"

"I think you can tell that I like it."

He circles there for a long while, and I rock against him, increasing the sweet friction. "Oh, I can, but I also like to hear you say it." I'm held up so tight against him that I notice the massive bulge of his cock pressing against my ass. A devious thought comes to mind, and I push my ass harder against him and roll my hips once more .

"This is also how I like it. I love your big hands in between my legs and the feel of your gigantic cock." I roll my hips again, emphasizing exactly where and what I'm talking about. How did this get so dirty so quickly? He did say that he read. Maybe he likes a dirty book and knows more than I give him credit for.

His hand moves faster, rolling and rubbing in all the right spots. The other hand slides under my shirt and grazes a hard nipple, causing goosebumps to spread along my heated skin. I want his mouth there and that hard cock pumping inside my body.

Oh, fuck, the thought of that sends another shiver down my spine. His lips are skimming my neck, and he places soft kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh there. He is lighting up all of my nerve endings, and I can feel my climax building.

His fingers continue to rub and tease my clit, and I rock my body with him at the pace I like. I undulate faster, and he matches me, circling my clit and nipple simultaneously, working me over like a professional.

Another thrust against his hand, and I'm coming undone. My moves become jerky and desperate as my orgasm starts to peak. I'm about to call out, to scream my pleasure, when he moves his hand from my breast and turns my face to meet his. As my climax rips through me, he takes my mouth with his.

He presses soft lips to mine, sending another rush of pleasure through my frantic body. He parts my mouth with his tongue, and then we are in the throws of an intensely passionate kiss while I come undone in his hands. His fingers and tongue rock my body so thoroughly that I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams. My release comes in heavy waves until I go completely limp in his arms.

I lay there momentarily, catching my breath, his warm hand still under my clothes. He nuzzles at the back of my neck .

"Did I do a good job?" He has a wry tinge to his voice, and I know he's teasing me.

"Did I do a good job?" I rock my hips back against cock and feel wetness there. "Two can play at this game, sir."

He pulls his finger from my body, and I fear I may have embarrassed him. I grab his jaw and turn his face to meet mine in the darkness.

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I'm flattered that you thought touching me was so hot it got you off. That's top of my list of compliments." I plant a hard, fierce kiss on his mouth. He smiles under my lips and then moves back so I can see him clearly. He takes the finger he used on me, sucks it into his mouth, and then smiles at me. My jaw goes slack at the sight. I've never seen anything like that before. It's primal and sexy, and before I can say anything, he wraps his arms back around me.

We fall back into the pile of covers. "I'm sorry, but your perfect round ass and the touch and taste of your wet pussy will end me." He grabs one of my butt cheeks, and I'm still shocked at how forward and dirty he is. I need to ask him about that later because he knows more than he lets on.

That night, I sleep sprawled on his chest, warm, safe, and satiated.