Page 102 of The Knucker King

Trewoofe did not know what to do with his hands as it deepened. She had settled for stroking one thumb along the pulse of his neck, and the other down the blade of his cheek. So, in a mirror fashion, he ghosted his claws across her inked collar bones and trailed them over the nape of her neck, following the whorls of her tattoo.

He had not expected the effect her little sighs would have on him, but when he heard them, he wanted to drop to his knees and run his forked tongue over every single part of her. Then, to his surprise, her tongue probed his lips, asking for entry into his mouth. He opened and eagerly welcomed her.

They were cautious at first, but quickly found a tempo in their exploration, lashing and dancing together with matching moans and whimpers. At one point, he filled her mouth with his tongue, and she let out a squeak of surprise.

Trewoofe withdrew. “I am sorry. Was that too much?”

Avice’s expression was heady. “No, not too much.”

She reached and grabbed the collar of his tunic, tugging him back down. Their lips collided again, but she did not stay on his mouth. She peppered feverish kisses down his jaw. Trewoofe rumbled, breath ragged, as she nipped his ear and made her way to his coloured throat. She licked there first, followed by the press of her scalding lips.

“Oh… little witch,” he moaned.

She drew back, her eyes wide. He swept her up into his arms. His hands were on her rear as her thick thighs encircled his waist. Trewoofe could not resist massaging her. She was soft but firm beneath his touch, and she let out a sigh as he looked up at her. The Moon framed her silhouette. Her raven hair glinted under the ethereal light, the tiny flowers in her crown braid sparkled, and her skin glowed from the dusting of magic that had settled on it.

She was perfect.

“Let me court you,” he blurted.

Her face fell and she took a moment before responding. “I will never marry, Trewoofe. It is vulgar. A sin against someone like me. It is an act that makes a woman less than a man, and I will never submit to one again.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “I said nothing of human marriage. I asked to court you, to let me be your lover, to let me serve you in all the ways you deserve.”

Her breath hitched. “I dream of that,” she admitted, her voice raw. “I have dreamt of a love so heavy it makes my chest ache—”

“Avice, I—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Let me finish, words like this do not come easily to me.” Trewoofe nodded, and she traced along his jawline. “I have dreamt of real love. One so heavy that it makes my chest ache. A match of equals. In my dreams, I have a lover. I have never seen him as it is always dark. But he makes love to me like he is separating the light from the Moon.”

Trewoofe purred and leant into her touch. “Let me court you?”

She stared at him, still caressing his cheek. “Yes.”

She kissed him hard.

And he kissed her back.

Mad on Moonbeams.

40

Chapter 40

Trewoofe

As they kissed, Trewoofe – with his hands still firmly on Avice’s glorious rear – walked them over to the closest tree, so her back was supported by the vine covered trunk.

Needing to breathe, they broke apart, their chests rising and falling in unison. He was throbbing beneath his hose, his cock so hard it hurt. The space between the top of her delicious thighs – he did not know the human name for it – was separated from him by thin layers of clothing. It would be so easy for him to shred the material and push into her. Her gaze burnt into him, and without removing her eyes from his face, she rolled her hips and ground down onto him.

“Avice…” he groaned as she repeated the motion. “My first time serving you will not be rutting you against a tree.”

Still writhing against him, she dotted her mouth along his jaw. “What do you mean ‘serving me’?”

“In any way you wish,” he stated. “With my lips.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her cleavage. “With my fingers.” He kneaded her rear, eliciting a delicious whimper. “With my tongue.” He licked her, forks exploring her skin, from collar bone to ear lobe. This deepened her neediness, and she rolled her hips again, wearing down the thin threads of his self-control. “And with my cock.”

Her gaze widened at that. “What would you do with it?”

“Anything you want,” he promised, rubbing against her through their clothing.