Текст книги "Berries and Greed"
Автор книги: Lily Mayne
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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Greid
My legs were still trembling wildly as I made my way downstairs. My whole body was, in fact. I felt almost drunk—slow and relaxed, with a big, stupid grin on my face.
After washing the dildo and cleaning all the cum off me—and the lube off my ass—I slipped on my onesie and padded into the kitchen. For once, the hum of the overhead lights didn’t bother me much. I was too freaking relaxed to care.
I opened the fridge and automatically grabbed a can of soda, still super thirsty, but hesitated. With a grunt, I put it back and did the sensible thing by filling up two glasses of water. Caffeine probably wasn’t a good idea, and I had said to Beryl that I was going to try and eat more like a responsible adult.
Even though that sounded really boring.
I still grabbed the bag of snacks I’d bought earlier and carried it upstairs with me, my belly twisting into an excited knot, tighter and tighter with every step. I was gonna sleep with Beryl. I was going to be able to curl around her all night, bury my face in her wild curls, breathe her in and feel her soft body all loose and relaxed in sleep.
Seriously, I didn’t think life could get any better. I’d just had an orgasm so intense it had felt like my eyeballs were going to explode, I’d gotten to eat Beryl’s pussy and make her come—twice—and now I was going to sleep all night in a bed with her. With snacks. And TV. And Beryl.
I resisted the urge to knock politely on the half-open door when I reached her bedroom. You don’t need to knock, loser. She wants you here.
When I shuffled inside, the bedside lamp was off, and Beryl had lit several candles dotted around the room. She was leaning over slightly to close the lit lantern on her nightstand, still naked, so naturally my eyes shot down and zeroed in on her ass.
My cock twitched, easily filling again despite how sated I was. I may have started quietly panting like a dog. Her ass was just so… round. Plump and full, with the cutest little dimples. Would she be interested in smothering me with it? I was pretty sure she’d mentioned sitting on my face at some point while my tongue was between her legs.
How long should I wait before asking for that? Ten minutes? Half an hour? I guessed I should gauge how tired she was. But surely another orgasm would make her sleep better? Technically I’d be doing her a favour.
Beryl turned around with a smile, and my tongue practically lolled out of my mouth as I took in her small breasts and little pink nipples, her soft belly and round hips, the dark ginger curls between her thighs. All the freckles dotting her skin, heaviest on her face and chest before tapering off to a lighter smattering over her stomach and the tops of her legs. I wanted to count all of them—map them out on her body. Maybe play connect-the-dots and see what pictures I could draw on her skin.
Pretty sure asking to draw on her might be weird, though.
“Ready for bed?” she asked, pulling back the covers and sliding underneath. Still naked.
Thank you, Drob. I sent a silent prayer of thanks down to the demiurgus god, believed to reside deep in the core of the earth. Not that I actually believed in any gods, human or demiurgus. We’d all grown up in a “heathen household”, as my mom always jokingly called it.
But still. Naked Beryl was enough to ignite my faith in a higher power. Although maybe I should have been thanking one of the human gods.
Thank you, God, Drob, Jesus—whoever is responsible for Beryl’s ass.
I padded over to the bed, resisting the urge to cover my dick with the bag of snacks. It was pushing out against the front of the onesie, which probably didn’t look all that sexy. Not that I was under the impression that the onesie looked sexy when I wasn’t hard either.
I kind of wanted to take it off now that I wasn’t feeling so stripped raw, no longer a weak and trembling bundle of nerves with a reeling prostate and a shitload of cum streaking my front. But my dick was half hard now, which meant my foreskin was pulling back from the barbs as they pushed out further. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt Beryl in case my cock went rogue and started rubbing against her. Of its own accord, of course. I wasn’t an animal. I could stop myself from humping her like I was in heat. Maybe.
I wasn’t so sure, actually, so I kept the onesie on.
Beryl gratefully took the glass of water I handed her, gulping it down while I set the other on the nightstand and eagerly clambered into bed with as much grace as I possessed, which was none. I went to sit beside her, but Beryl leaned back against the headboard and encouraged me to settle between her legs.
Just like the position we’d been in when she’d made me fuck my cock sleeve while playing with my nipples.
I gulped, sneaking a hand under the covers to rearrange my hard dick so it wouldn’t catch on the onesie’s fabric and block our view of the TV. I wriggled around to get comfortable, slouching low until my head was on the front of Beryl’s shoulder and her warm thighs were bracketing my sides.
Fuck yes, this was awesome. I just had to convince my dick that it wasn’t getting a repeat of the last time I’d been lying against Beryl like this.
I was trying not to grin like an idiot as I dug into the bag of snacks beside me. “Hungry?”
Beryl chuckled, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. “There are actually still some left?”
“Yes,” I said defensively, even though that was only because I’d bought a lot. “I only ate, like, a couple of things after you came upstairs.”
I could feel her smile as she pressed her nose and mouth into my hair, one hand settling on my chest while the other pointed the remote at the TV as she looked for something to watch. “Did you get more of those pink chips?”
“Duh.” I pulled out a bag of Liffs, then hesitated. “Wait, do you mind me eating in your bed?”
“I don’t mind.” She paused. “Just try not to get crumbs everywhere.”
I snorted, tearing open the bag. “As if I would carelessly waste food like that.”
She huffed. “That’s true. What was I thinking? So, what do you want to watch? Infomercials?”
“I mean, it’s like two-thirty a.m., so I don’t think there’ll be much else on that’s any good.”
“You consider late-night infomercials good?”
“Entertaining,” I corrected around a mouthful of chips. “But I’m pretty sure you have DemiTV on here. I’d just need to log in.”
“Ooh, how about this?” She stopped on a channel that had some documentary showing next. I wrinkled my nose and said nothing. “I saw a commercial for this before. It’s about a human woman who claims to have travelled to Deep Earth.”
“Bullshit,” I blurted, accidentally spraying crumbs over my front. Oops, shit. “There is no way anyone has ever snuck through the entrances, especially not a human. It’s pants-shittingly terrifying enough going through the checkpoints with a Deep Earth passport. When you’re actually allowed.”
“You’ve been to Deep Earth before?” Beryl asked with interest.
“Yeah, once. We have some distant relatives who, for some unknown reason, decided to hold a big family reunion when I was a kid. It sucked.”
She chuckled. “It wasn’t fun getting to go and see Deep Earth?”
I made a face. “I mean, it was cool, sure. But seriously, the checkpoint guards are terrifying. At least they were when I was, like, ten. They had giant guns, and giant muscles, and they wore helmets that made them all look like android soldiers. And even though my mom had all our passports, they still make you feel like you’re doing something wrong or trying to, I don’t know, smuggle stuff through.”
“So you’ve only been the once?”
“Yeah. Mom swore after that visit that she wouldn’t survive another attempt to herd eight kids through the checkpoint without anyone getting accidentally shot.”
“Were you all nightmares?” Beryl asked, her tone filled with amusement.
“I mean…” I bobbed my head side to side. “Yeah. I think it was hard keeping us all in line. Nuni, Kiti and Laki used to ‘prank’ me a lot because they’re assholes. Well, Laki’s mellowed out now. But Kiti and Nuni are still assholes.”
“Kiti wasn’t an asshole.” Beryl gave my chest a light smack.
My ears fluttered with embarrassment. “Tell that to the ten-year-old me who burst into tears in front of all those big scary guards because the three of them pulled my pants down at the checkpoint.”
Beryl made a sympathetic sound as she rubbed my chest and pressed a kiss to my hair. “Okay, they sound like they were assholes back then.”
“They just picked on me because I was the smallest,” I grumbled, then stuffed more chips into my mouth. “Buttheads.”
Beryl snorted. “But you don’t actually dislike them, right? There didn’t seem to be any real animosity between you and Kiti when she and your mom visited.”
“Nah, I guess I love them or whatever,” I muttered. “Maybe not Nuni. He really is a dick. Still acts like a pompous frat bro even though we’re all in our forties now. But Laki actually apologised for picking on me when we were kids after they got back from travelling abroad. They’re nonbinary,” I clarified, then realised Beryl might not know what that meant—she’d had a pretty sheltered life. “Um, they were assigned female at birth, but—”
“I know what nonbinary means.” She rubbed my chest. “There are all kinds of people at the cult.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, I wasn’t implying you… Sorry.”
Dipping her head, she kissed my cheek. “So what was Deep Earth like?”
I thought back to the vague memories I had of it. We’d all been hopped up on sugar after getting through the checkpoint, because it’d been the only way Mom could get us to shut up while she spoke to the guards and got our passports checked.
“It’s dark, which is nice,” I told Beryl. “Lots of tunnels and gigantic caverns. Our relatives lived outside of the city, so we only saw it from a distance.”
“There’s an actual city down there?”
“I mean, yeah, of course.” I tilted my head to look up at her with a tiny grin. “Did you think all the demiurgus down there lived in cave holes or something?”
Her round cheeks flushed pink, making me lunge up to kiss one. She gave me a nudge. “No, of course not. We learned stuff about demiurgus at the cult. It’s just kind of hard to imagine an entire city underground.”
“Yeah, well, it obviously doesn’t look like the mostly human-built cities.” I shrugged and turned back to my snacks. “The buildings are a lot more organic looking, and they don’t build them so tall. But there’s all kinds of stuff down there. I remember my however-many-times-removed cousins talking about playing at a nearby subterranean lake a lot.”
“Wow,” Beryl breathed. “I bet that’s amazing. And are there gems and stones everywhere? Like in your deeproom?”
“Yeah. Pretty cool, I guess. Lots of colour.”
“Do you think they’d ever let humans visit?”
I made a face. “Probably not. The demiurgus who live down there still live down there for a reason. They want to protect their way of life. Some of them don’t even like surface-dwelling demiurgus.”
“I see.” Beryl slipped her hand under the neck of my onesie to smooth it over my bare chest, making me shiver. “So the woman in this documentary is a total liar?”
“Most likely.” I grabbed a candy bar from the snack bag. “But it’ll be fun to hear what she claims she saw.”
We lapsed into comfortable silence as commercials played on the TV, but before the documentary could start, I asked, “Hey, when are you working this weekend?”
“I’m not.” Beryl’s hand shifted on my chest, her pinky finger brushing over my nipple and making my cock perk up eagerly. “Got the weekend off after tomorrow’s double shift.”
“Oh, okay.” I fiddled nervously with the empty candy wrapper in my lap. “Do you maybe, um… Would you want to go on a date this weekend? With me, I mean.”
She burst out laughing. “Who else would I go on a date with?”
I cringed. Okay, yeah, that had been kind of an unnecessary clarification. Before I could think of a response that wasn’t equally as stupid, Beryl ducked down to kiss my cheek. “I’d love to, Greid. Do you have something in mind?”
I’d actually been thinking about it after Beryl went to bed. Until she sent me that text and my brain turned to horny goo. Her mention of wanting to learn how to cook had given me an idea that I thought she’d enjoy, but also wasn’t too nerve-wracking for me to consider.
“I was thinking, um, on Sunday mornings there’s this artisan market that’s mostly demiurgus sellers. There are all kinds of stalls there. Fresh produce, jewellery, clothes, furniture…” I trailed off and shrugged self-consciously, suddenly wondering if this was a lame idea. “Could be fun to just walk around and have a look. And there are food stalls there. And coffee. We could get breakfast. If you want to. But if you’d rather do something else—”
“That sounds perfect, Greid.” Beryl wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me closer, burying her nose in my hair. “I’d love to. Thank you.”
“Okay.” I ducked my head to hide my grin. “Great. Um, the only thing is that we’d have to get up pretty early…”
“That’s okay. I was actually thinking about texting Corva and seeing if she wanted to go for a drink on Saturday evening. This gives me a good excuse to go home early if I hate it.”
I frowned, twisting to look up at her. “Why would you hate it?”
“I don’t mean I’d hate Corva’s company. I like her. But…” Beryl squirmed behind me. “If it gets too weird and she’s asking me about stuff I can’t answer, I just… you know.”
I pursed my lips and smoothed my hand up and down her calf. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Beryl.”
“Mm. The documentary’s starting,” she said quickly. “Can we lie down?”
“Sure.”
I shoved all the empty wrappers into the bag and leaned over to dump it on the floor. I knew Beryl had intentionally changed the subject, but I wasn’t going to force her to talk about stuff that made her uncomfortable. I wasn’t a pusher, and I didn’t think it was my place to try and tell her how she should handle her past around new people. I wanted to be the person she could tell anything to, who would just listen without constantly trying to offer unsolicited advice or tell her what to do.
Agma had been the opposite. If I’d ever vented about a difficult client, just wanting to get it off my chest, she’d gotten righteously indignant and started demanding that I march upstairs and send them a scathing email, or cancel their order, or jack up the price of their commission just to be a dick. I knew she’d thought she was helping—in her own very bossy way—but it hadn’t helped. At all. I may have acted like a big kid sometimes, according to her at least, but I’d started and grown my business on my own. I was actually capable of doing adult shit when I needed to.
As long as it didn’t require, like, meeting people in person or being interviewed for indie artisan magazines or—god forbid—networking. I’d turned down many, many invitations to conferences and networking events, as well as many, many requests for interviews. In doing so, I’d accidentally created a weird mysterious air around myself in certain circles. I was pretty sure that was why Agma had been interested in me to begin with.
As soon as I lay down, Beryl was shifting onto her side and resting her head on my chest, angling it so she could still see the TV. I wrapped my arm around her and slid my hand down her side to her hip, absently tracing the very faint furrows I could feel stretching to the top of her backside. Once she’d finished wriggling to get comfortable, I settled my hand on her ass, unable to stop myself from giving it a light squeeze.
The TV screen went dark, before a human-sounding voice started speaking. “You hear all these rumours about what it’s like down there, but the demiurgus themselves are so secretive about their homeland.”
“What?” I snorted. “No, we’re not. All you need to do is look at a freaking tapestry or painting.”
“Well, I wanted to find out for myself,” the woman’s voice continued before she appeared on the screen, addressing someone just beside the camera against a plain backdrop. “So I did it. I went down there. And I saw.”
“We don’t believe you, lady,” Beryl told the woman on the screen, making me huff with amusement.
The documentary started playing ominous music over a reel of ‘artsy’ shots of things like a demiurgus hand sweeping over a tree trunk, a pair of big yellow eyes staring directly into the camera and black-and-white drone footage of those looming checkpoint guards holding their guns as they ushered people through the trees and into the big, heavily guarded hole that led to Deep Earth. The screen went black, before the words What I Saw Beneath the Surface faded in.
“Conspiracy nuts,” I muttered as Beryl shifted again, slinging her leg over my thigh.
I was instantly distracted as her ass flexed under my palm. My fingers tightened in reflex, and I had the sudden realisation that they were long enough that all I had to do was shift my hand a little lower and stretch them out, and I’d be able to slide them over her pussy. My gut tightened, cock twitching yet again. Fuck, I wanted to touch her. She’d been so soft and wet against my tongue. I wanted to get that wetness all over my hand and use it to jerk off.
“Sorry if I fall asleep.”
Beryl’s mumble snapped me out of my pervy thoughts. Suppressing a despondent sigh, I stroked her backside and craned my neck to kiss the top of her head. “That’s okay.”
Definitely no more sex tonight then. Which was fine. Totally fine. I was just being greedy.
I’d just politely wait until morning and ask if she wanted to sit on my face then.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Forty
Greid
Sleeping in my humanoid form was weird. I hadn’t done it all that often, and whenever I had, I’d woken up with my back kind of tight, like it had been aching to stretch and elongate.
This time when I woke up, I was hit with a mild wave of vertigo despite still lying down, as if my body knew it was way higher off the ground than normal. My jaw cracked as it stretched open wide around a yawn, a hand sneaking down to scratch my belly and give my morning wood an absent stroke.
Without opening my eyes, I grunted and rolled onto my side. My arm flopped over something small and soft, and my face was suddenly buried in a mass of curly hair, tickling my nose. Naturally, my dick bucked with excitement when I remembered I’d slept with Beryl. All night. In her bed.
I had vague memories of half waking up at some point to see the credits rolling at the end of the documentary. Beryl had fallen asleep within about five minutes of it starting. I’d turned off the TV and dragged myself out of bed to blow out all the candles, then wriggled irritably out of my onesie because I’d been too hot before collapsing back into bed.
Apparently I’d at least had the sense to bunch it against the front of my hips so my dick didn’t accidentally hurt Beryl in the night if it got hard. The soft fabric rubbed against my morning wood, and I resisted the urge to grind into it seeing as I wasn’t too sure Beryl would appreciate being woken up like that.
Her soft, even breaths told me she wasn’t awake yet. My chest had gotten all tight and hot when she’d fallen asleep on me last night, her small body curled into my side. I’d been exhausted too, but I’d tried to stay awake for as long as possible so I could savour it.
I’d failed though, because I was pretty sure I’d fallen asleep about ten minutes after her. I’d just been so comfortable. And relaxed. And happy.
Beryl made me really freaking happy.
She let out a tiny grunt as she started waking up, her fingers wrapping around my wrist and tugging my arm closer to her chest. It settled between her breasts, and my fingers twitched with the urge to slide my hand lower and cup one of the small mounds. My dick bucked, and I knew she felt it through the bunched-up onesie, because she let out a tired chuckle.
“You’re awake then.”
My ears fluttered. “Only for a couple of minutes.”
Stretching with a yawn, she shifted onto her back and blinked sleepy green eyes up at me. My hearts went a little nuts, insides scrunching up all tight. I wanted to see this every morning—Beryl with her hair a wild bird’s nest around her head, her eyes heavy and pillow creases on her cheeks.
“Did you sleep okay?” She rubbed one of her eyes. “I know you’re not used to being so high up.”
My hand skimmed down over her soft stomach and settled on her hip, fingers stretching to the curve of her backside. “I slept great. Did you?” I froze. “Oh shit, did I kick you in the night?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” Beryl chuckled, smoothing a hand up my chest.
My ears fluttered yet again. “Um, no reason. I just, uh, fidget a lot in my sleep. I think.”
Agma had said it was more like sleeping next to a dreaming dog, but I didn’t particularly want to put that image in Beryl’s head.
“Pretty sure you didn’t kick me, but I’m a heavy sleeper anyway.” Beryl cupped my face and gave it a gentle tug. “Come here.”
I ducked my head willingly, fingers tightening on her hip when our lips met in a soft kiss. But I lived up to the nickname she’d given me, because I couldn’t stop myself from coaxing her lips open so I could dip my tongue inside and taste her properly. I shoved away the sudden worry about morning breath, because, well, Beryl would have it too, and I didn’t give a shit. Hopefully she didn’t either.
The house was quiet except for the sound of us kissing, which did nothing to calm my erection. I found the hand on her hip sliding inward, slowly, until I could rake my claws through the curls between her legs.
Beryl shivered, wrapping her arms around my neck as her thighs parted. My breath caught, fingers flexing with the intense, almost overwhelming urge to slide them lower and cup her pussy. To skim them up and down and feel how wet I could make her. To play with her clit until it got stiff and swollen, and I could swoop down and suck it—
“Greid.”
Beryl’s breathless voice made my eyes pop open as she broke the kiss. Her gaze was heavy again, but not with sleep this time. Groaning in desperation, I lunged for her neck and started making my way down it with feverish kisses.
“Can I touch you?” I shifted my hand and felt my fingertip skim over the top of her cleft. “Please?” I added in a croak, hunching my back so my lips could reach her chest.
“Yeah. Yes.” She parted her legs wider, fingers clenching tight in my hair as I reached a nipple and swirled my tongue around it.
Sucking her nipple into my mouth with a moan, I awkwardly shifted a little lower on the bed so my spine wasn’t in danger of snapping in half. As I finally dipped my hand lower to cup her pussy, my tail thumped restlessly against the mattress and Beryl let out a chuckle. It quickly cut off as her breath caught when I slid my fingers between her folds, being very, very careful of my claws. I almost lifted my head to apologise for them or to, I don’t know, tell her I’d go cut them all off real quick, but fear that she’d get freaked out and make me stop kept me quiet. She knew I had them. And I’d rather gnaw off my own hands than ever hurt her.
But fuck, she was so soft here. At least I didn’t have to worry about hurting her inside, because I knew she wouldn’t want me to actually put my fingers inside her. That eased my anxiety, allowing me to relax and enjoy what I was doing. Touching Beryl. Hearing her gaspy little moans as her nipple pebbled against my tongue and my fingers carefully smoothed her wetness up to her clit. I didn’t linger on it for too long yet, wanting to give her time to catch up and get into it. I’d kind of sprung this on her as soon as she woke up, unable to stop myself from pleading to touch her.
Instead, I kept gliding my fingers up and down until she was completely slick, until her pussy was hot and slippery under my hand. My cock pulsed, leaking all over the stupid onesie bunched between us, which was simultaneously keeping my anxiety over hurting her at bay and frustrating the shit out of me, because my brain was shutting off and all I wanted was to rub my dick against any part of her I could to get some relief.
The super-soft fabric did feel kind of nice, though. Shit, maybe I could actually come like this. But then I might develop a kink for humping my onesie, and that would probably be a little weird. Or maybe I could just buy a third secret shame onesie that—
“Fuck. There.” Beryl’s gasp snapped me back to the present. One of her hands left my hair to shoot down and grab my wrist, keeping my hand in place with my fingertips pressed lightly against her clit. “There, Greid.”
“Okay,” I whispered obediently, even though, I mean, that had been my plan anyway. But hearing her direct me, even in that tiny way, made me a thousand times hornier.
“Good boy,” she breathed, knees falling open wider and hips arching up against my hand. Okay, make that a million times hornier. “That feels so good, Greid. Don’t stop.”
Like fuck was I going to stop. I made slow, slippery circles over her clit with my fingertips as I nuzzled her stiff, wet nipple, before making my way over to the one I’d neglected so far. Beryl moaned, one hand clenching my hair tight, the other still gripping my wrist.
“Faster,” she panted, drawing her knees up to plant her feet on the mattress and thrust against my hand.
A helpless groan left me as I let her nipple pop free from my mouth so I could tilt my head and sneakily look down the length of her body. The comforter had lifted with her knees, giving me an unimpeded view of what I was doing. My fingers looked unfathomably dark against her pale skin, gleaming with her wetness. Her pussy was spread wide, soft and pink and swollen, making me start to pant, my tongue almost lolling out of my mouth with the desire to lick her there again.
“Fuck.” I stroked her clit faster just like she’d ordered. But as much as I loved her telling me what to do, a part of me also kind of wanted to show her that I was capable of making her feel good all on my own. I may have preferred her taking the lead and bossing me around, but I did know what I was doing.
After gliding my fingers down to get them even slicker, I settled the tips of my middle finger and thumb either side of her clit until I could feel the stiff root of it. Then I stroked, gently squeezing, and wanted to grin in triumph when Beryl started to shake.
“Oh my god,” she choked out, fingers clawing at my wrist as she stiffened up. “What…? Greid—”
She cut herself off with a cry, spine arching off the bed as her legs quaked. I groaned at the feel of her clit pulsing between my fingers, swooping down to feverishly suck her nipple while she came. When her hips started twitching with sensitivity on every stroke, I cupped her slippery pussy and shuddered, almost coming into the onesie.
Beryl’s chest was heaving as she collapsed back onto the bed. Giving her nipple one last lick, I lifted my head and gazed down at her. Dazed eyes slowly blinked once at the ceiling before shifting to me. She stared up at me, pink lips parted in a little O, then lunged.
I found myself flat on my back, breathing fast as Beryl clambered unsteadily between my legs and ripped away the bunched-up onesie. My dick pulsed on my stomach, almost agonisingly hard. I gulped, clutching the sheets as she wrapped both hands around the unbarbed base and tilted it up before sinking her mouth over the leaking head.
“F-f-fuck.” My thighs quaked as they fell open wider, tail sliding restlessly over the mattress between my legs. I made an embarrassing sound when Beryl dropped one hand to cup my balls, but then she reached over and patted the sheets until she found my hand.
Lifting her mouth from my cockhead, she urged me to curl my fingers around the top half of my dick. “Be a good boy and stroke yourself for me.”
“Nnngh.” I obeyed, naturally, my eyes wide as I watched her pink tongue swirl over the head of my cock before she gave it a filthy wet kiss.
She returned her hand to my balls, squeezing gently before her fingers crept lower. My hips tilted automatically, legs shaking wildly and chest heaving as I tried not to get too overwhelmed with all the sensations so quickly. Especially because I was pretty sure I’d come instantly if she—
“Oh fuck.” My hand tightened around my dick as her fingertips circled my asshole. The barbs abrading my palm made me shudder with pleasure, and I could feel my cock getting even stiffer in my fist as Beryl slurped on the head with abandon, moaning as if she was enjoying this as much as I was. Which was not fucking possible.
“B-Beryl.” My balls were hugging the base of my shaft, which pulsed under her fingers. I had, like, seconds left before I exploded, but she hadn’t said I could. Which made the frustration even fucking better. I wanted to wait for her permission. I wanted her to order me to come.
“Nngh, Beryl,” I panted again, body locking up and starting to shake. “C-can I—”
“Come for me, Greid.” She gave me a mischievous grin, then stuck out her tongue so the head of my cock rested on it, sliding against the slippery muscle as I jerked my cock recklessly fast, desperate to come.
My hand bumped hers as she squeezed the base of my cock, but then she let go to cup my balls, her other hand still rubbing my hole in tight circles. I stiffened, clutching at the sheets, my fist flying up and down my dick, before letting out a strained shout as I started shooting long lines of dark cum over her pink tongue and to the back of her throat.
Beryl moaned, gently squeezing my sac to milk every drop from me as my body shook and my cock throbbed in my fist. After one final spurt, I sagged into the mattress with a long groan, fighting the urge to immediately go back to sleep.
Tiny aftershocks of pleasure zinged through me as Beryl smoothed her palms up and down my inner thighs, massaging the trembling muscles. She gave the head of my dick a sweet kiss before sitting up. Exhaling a shaky breath, I lifted my head to peer down at her, my softening cock twitching at the sight of her naked between my legs.
“You okay?” she asked with a teasing smile, still running her small hands up and down my thighs.
