Page 33 of Gardening and Gargoyles

I love her fantasy, but I straighten up and withdraw a little, watching her tight pink flesh cling to my wide gray shaft, and then I push back into her, my eyes fluttering closed as I sink into her heat. “Did ye sayanygargoyle cock?” I growl, both hands now on her hips, talons digging into her soft, padded rear.

“No, no. God, no, only yours,” June whimpers, hands making tight fists on the sheets.

“Why is that, my lady?”

“Because I’m yours. Your lady. Your love. And you’re mine.” June raises herself to her palms, now on all fours. “Because... Because you love me.”

“Aye. And?” I push in again, pull out, thrusting in a pattern that catches each tremble in her quim, each spasm in her walls. My tail flicks down to tease her nub.

“Because I love you!” June cries as my tail wraps around the tiny bead and won’t let go, tugging it in time with my ever-increasing thrusts.

“Because I’ll not leave ye. Or betray you. Love you always, my June. My rose.”

“God, yes. My beautiful, wild Duncan. Unngh!”

June’s hips slam back, and her thighs convulse. Her back bows low as she lets out a long, erotic wail that makes my eyes flood with bright white, shining on her beautiful, enraptured face.

I feel her pleasure in my own body, feel her rapid little pulses, feel her collapsing under me—and feel her taking every drop of my come as it starts to pump into her tight, contracting cunny.

But I’m not done with her yet. I savor her sweetness, the feel of her flooded with my seed—before starting again.

“Wait... No breaks? Like, at all?” June gasps.

“Not with you, my love,” I purr, and let my tail tease a different spot this time, working into her tight little back passage. “Let’s see if I can make you come again, my lady. Or should I say, my vixen?”

“Call me whatever you want, just keep fucking me,” June begs, practically pawing the bed as both her holes are filled.

I can feel both tight tunnels of flesh squeezing me, milking my sensitive tail, and coating my cock with her juice and my come. Each time our hips rock towards one another, sinfully wet sounds fill the air, along with my snarls and her ragged, heady moans.

“You look so beautiful, my love. So full.”

“Fuck, yes. Please keep me full like this. So good. All boyfriends should have a tail.”

“Boyfriend?” I slap my hand down on her perfect, bouncing bottom, harder than I mean to. “Oh, sorry, my love!”

“I meant mate. I meant mate,” she babbles, squirming as my tail twists and burrows inside, opening her up.

I could stay like this forever, locked inside of her, watching her move, enveloped in her flesh and her scent. But I realize I can’t. After we finish here, I must find a piece of my shed skin—and carve my heartstone. It is sometimes the custom in clans for an elder or dear one to help make a heartstone for another, but I was a young warrior when my clan was last together. I’ve never made one before. It might take a day or two, for it must be perfect.

Like my June.

But I won’t rush this moment. In fact, I slow down and let June move against me, first slow, and then building, her walls tightening with every passing second. Her hand comes back to rub her clit, and slips past it to stroke us where we join. She strokes my slick cock as it slides in and out of her stretched pussy, dripping with my cream.

“I can’t think of anything more beautiful,” I murmur, letting my chest rest against her back, my arms supporting my weight as we huddle close. “Unless it’s seeing you do this again in our own bed. In our own nest.”

“Nest?”

“The home I will build for you. It can be here, or in Gilcreedy, or anywhere, my June. I may not have money, but I have other skills. I’ll make your dreams come true.”

“My only dream right now is getting to keep loving you, of being with someone like you.”

“Not like me.Exactlyme. Because I’m yours, and you’re mine. I’ll never betray ye, or abandon ye. You’ll never be alone again, love.”

June pulls away, surprising me as I slide from her with a rush of milky wetness that splatters over both our thighs. She rolls onto her back with a little groan. Her once tight sheath is gaping from my lovemaking, and dripping with the evidence of our pleasure. “I want to be able to see you the whole time. Feel you on top of me,” she whispers, arms open and welcoming.

She feels like home, like family, like lust, and love, and a future. All the things I thought were ripped away.

All the things that she felt were torn from her.