Page 98 of Folds
For a second there's silence, and I half expect that maybe he'll drink his tea and be on his way. But I'm less than surprised when his huge body shifts, and he lifts me onto his scaled lap, wrapping his arms around me, chin resting on top of my head.
"Oh, okay…sure." I stumble over my words. Somehow, despite the strangeness of this whole situation, it doesn't feel bad. In fact, there's something about the way he's holding me now that has me wishing he'd do more.
But I can't say it out loud, that's weird…right?
"Are you sure you’re not too injured to be my easy chair?" I laugh awkwardly.
"I am fine now, the cold exacerbated the wound. I will heal before morning.” He waves off any attempt I have at getting up. "You are warmest"—his hand slides from my belly down to my jorts-covered crotch—"here."
"Uh-huh," I say in a weird falsetto. "You know, you really shouldn't touch me there…it's—uh—like the tip of your tail."
I could squirm out of his grip, but the primal part of my brain has me frozen, waiting to see what will happen… hoping for an outcome I dare not speak.
"But I liked it when you touched me there, I like how you feel." He cups my pussy through my jeans shorts, and I can't help it when I arch against him.
It's been a long time since anyone has paid me this kind of attention, and my betrayer of a pussy weeps at the thought of him.
"You…you should ask, you ask to touch people there," I stammer out.
He lifts his hand off me immediately.
"Can I touch you, can I feel your warmth…" He pauses, letting his tongue dance across my earlobe. "Sloane."
The way he says my name has what's left of my common sense weakening.
"Maybe I shouldn't let the strange snake man touch my pussy," I say aloud, likely delirious.
"But do you want the snake man to stop touching you?" He undulates his hips, and I can feel something swelling just under me.
"I…" A thousand responses run through my head.
That he's a stranger, that this is such a bad idea, but finally I land on the simplest response, the one that's what I truly want, even if I'm scared to admit that I want it.
"No, I don't want you to stop touching me, Bahtam…and I don't care if that sounds crazy. Do you think I'm crazy?"
"I think you’re warm…and willing," he growls before spinning me to face him, quickly straddling his massive tail. "Naga women only become warm when they're ready to breed. For my kind, it is the most erotic of sensations."
Is he calling me breedable?
I drag my hand down his textured, expansive chest.
"Fuck it." I throw caution to the wind and grab his face, pulling him into a ferocious kiss. His forked tongue tastes myhuman one. I navigate carefully over his sharp fangs, a little thrill going through me at the feeling.
I break the kiss first and grab his hand, pushing it over my mound.
"Touch me, Bahtam."
As if my request was the only thing holding him back, he uses his sharp claws to slice up the side seams of shorts, pulling them away like a cheap pair of tearaway pants.
His eyes are glowing—or maybe that's just the reflection of the fire behind—as a slow smile spreads over his lips.
"Your folds," he murmurs, "look at how prettily they glisten in this light, blooming right before me like some rare jungle flower, slick with dew, inviting me to take a drink of your delicious nectar."
Holy shit, we've got a dirty talker on our hands.
I can't help but clench at the baritone of his voice and the filthy words sliding out from his pretty little lips.
"Oh, I think that's the most I've heard you speak," I blush.
