Page 94 of Ruby
I let out a huff, the many songs I love flitting through my mind. Repeated lines. A motif that is spun out in multiple ways before returning to the original, just to spin off from it again.
Am I trying to sing a new song after removing most of the possible notes?
A memory of playing the piano as a child and only using the black keys surfaces and I smile. It was a fun song, but it didn’t take me long to return to using white keys to make a more complex song.
Don’t throw out the notes.
The simplicity of the concept makes my brain want to point out all of the ways it breaks down as a comparison, but I hold myself in check. It doesn’t have to be perfect to help. I’ve been so hyperfocused on what I don’t want to be, rejecting all the ways my “true” self might cross over into masks I have worn that I have left myself nothing to work with.
I don’t ever need to moan like that again, but I won’t find what comes naturally if I am focused on what I don’t want.
I just need to sing one note at a time.
And so I do, reaching for the bottom of my range, using that low resonance to take me out of overthinking and back into this moment.
Szhe’ka’s answering note thrums even deeper, creating a slightly discordant counterpoint that wavers into dulcet harmony, then pulls back into dissonance. Then again, and again, each one in time to an increasing pressure of his hands against me.
I almost lose my note when my body responds, knowing before my mind that this is just a foreshadowing of him moving in and out of me.
He’s staring at me, waiting for me to move us into another note pairing, patient enough to simply remain in this throbbing counterpoint until I am ready to drive us forward. As soon as I raise my tone up a third, moving the melody forward, his arms move just as swiftly into motion.
A fiery sensation sweeps my body as three of his hands caress my body while the last one pins my arms above my head again.
His tongue drops back to my chest, tasting both nipples before focusing on one like he is savoring an ice cream. One slow lick after another, each one doing a better job of driving me wild as he learns my body, knuckle moving against my clit more rapidly with each lick.
My orgasm comes so fast it catches me off guard, shuddering through me for a long moment and leaving me hungry for more. This is the fastest I‘ve ever been brought to finishing and it’s a little embarrassing. How is he so good at this?
“Szhe’ka, please,” I beg again, trying to pull my hands away from his grasp so I can pull him to me, have his entire weight crush me until I feel whole again but he makes a clicking sound with his mouth, as if he knows what I want and is holding it back from me.
“Be patient,” he hums before releasing my hands and letting his tongue start a dance from the space between my breasts, swirling in my belly button, sending a shiver down my spine.
I’m afraid to even breathe, watching the gaggle of feathers around his head move in the rhythm of his tongue. I pull my arms from his grip, and reach forward to run my hand through it. It is soft and I tug at it, earning a grunt from him as he meets my eyes, a mischievous twinkle in his that tells me there is more coming for me.
His tongue continues to dance around below my navel, along my mound, and my chest rises in anticipation, falling when he instead spreads my legs farther open and starts lapping at the wetness between my thighs.
I suck in a deep breath between my teeth, holding back the feeling of explosion. He continues to tease, broad tongue twisting and licking everywhere besides where I need him the most.
Just when I start to get used to the feeling of his teasing, the broad muscle presses flat against my mound, licking a flat base from the bottom to the top and then back down again. But Szhe’ka is not done with me yet.
My eyes bulge open, and my voice fails to reach him when two of his hands start squeezing my breasts and one knuckle slides into me, my wetness sucking it in. I can feel how wet I am, and I know that I will erupt at any second.
I want to warn Szhe’ka. Maybe push his face out before I cum but when my hands go to touch the cool, leathery skin of his head, I can’t help but hold onto the feathers and grind my hips against his mouth, thighs spread wide and pressing against the sharp ridges of his brow.
My eyes roll to the back of my head when he replaces the knuckle inside me with his tongue, the muscle driving inside me with reckless abandon.
White hot pleasure travels to the pit of my stomach and starts to make its way around my body, gathering all the momentum it needs and my body finally explodes from being so overstimulated.
My orgasm hits me like a trainwreck, separating my back from the ground and gravity only pulls me down when every ounce of energy leaves my body.
Szhe’ka still continues lapping between my legs, as if he is trying to catch the bits that he missed.
“Szhe’ka, please.” I beg him, too breathless to burst into the kind of song my heart wants to sing. I feel as though my body is on fire, weightless and thrumming with aftershocks.
When he finally gets up, he tries to move away from me but I pull him to lay with me and push my mouth against his. The kissis a little too chaste for me and I lick at his bottom lip, pushing my tongue into his mouth and tasting myself off his tongue. I taste so much better in his mouth, fuck. Who knew he was such a quick learner, figuring my body out and making it do things it hasn’t done in years, probably?
I start trailing my hand down between us both. A yawn betrays how spent I truly am and Szhe’ka takes my hand back up to his face, kissing it before letting it drop down.
“Want touch you,” I start to beg but he cuts me off with another kiss, giving me a pointed look when I pull away to yawn again. This means nothing; if he wanted to, I would go all night.
