Page 103 of Tempt

Females don’t need cum? I can’t help but wonder.

He doesn’t answer that one at all.

I feel a slight twinge of irritation that he’s still keeping secrets, but I suppose he doesn’t really owe me anything about Vyastilian culture or their breeding habits. It’s not like we got together, fell in love, and pledged to spend the rest of our lives as a couple.

We fucked once in Vegas, and that was supposed to be it.

I’m only here because I was a nosy bitch and now a bunch of people are trying to kill me.

My Luca, he sends me. He pulls his feet back, then climbs to his hands and knees and stalks closer. The moss shifts around us to accommodate his body, and he presses me hard into the soft fauna, dipping his head low, nosing against my jaw.

As much as I don’t want to like it, I do. So fucking much. I lift my torso, pushing into his touch, and I feel his fangs graze my neck. A wild thought rushes through me that I can’t control.

Bite me.

Both of us freeze, and for a moment, I think he might. But then his long, forked tongue slides out and licks up my neck before his lips close around my skin, and he sucks. I gasp, arching into him, and his arms lift me off the moss and against his body as his lips find mine.

He’s skilled at human kissing, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s from the human who came before me. The unfortunate one who destroyed Eissa’s ability to let another one of us get close to him.

I shove the thought out of my head before he can find it and kiss him back, tongue tangling with his as both hands brush down his torso, fingers catching on his piercings before I go for his slit.

His groan rumbles into my mouth, and I swallow the sound down as I shove his tunic aside and let my fingers trace his small opening. It pulses for me, parting gently, and I slip two fingers in to feel the tips of his cocks, throbbing like they were waiting for this.

“Yes?” I murmur aloud.

He hesitates for only a second, then nods, but instead of pushing harder against me, he pulls back and looks down at my body.

I let him drink his fill with his eyes, his gaze tracking me as I touch my own throat, my pierced nipples, then brushing them all the way down to my waiting cock. I stroke it slowly, letting precum bead at the tip, tempting his resolve.

I know he wants me. I know he wants to taste me. I hold myself in my palm like an offering, and after what feels like a war between his mind and his hearts, his body sags forward.

His tongue immediately curls around the barbell in my left nipple, tugging until his lips are around it, then he kisses lower, tasting every inch of skin on his way down to the place he wants to put his mouth the most.

And when he does, a noise erupts from my throat loud enough that even I can hear it. It must rattle off the walls, the githyn glowing even brighter. But he doesn’t seem to notice as he swallows me down, my hips thrusting up to fuck his face. His throat softens, and his tongue wraps around my shaft, milking me and drawing me closer until I can’t hold back.

“Ah, fuck!” My lips and tongue stutter around the word, and I have no idea how it sounds, nor do I care. The only thing that matters is the way he suckles me until my balls tighten, and I begin to spill.

He drinks it down in powerful, heavy swallows, and my entire body goes limp as he slowly lets me go. I’m already spent from before, but I don’t know that I’ll ever get tired of this.

I want some of the herbs Everest takes because I want to give Eissa more than he’s asking for. I want him to take all of it from me.

He slides his body alongside mine and pulls me into his arms. Perhaps next time.

I twist to face him and lift my hands because I’m tired of talking inside my head. ‘Do you have the herbs at home?’

He bites his lip. ‘No. We will have to see the Tarek.’

I have a vague idea of who they are, but he sends me an image of them anyway, and my breath catches. They’re tall, with four huge tentacles instead of legs, thick arms, and horns on either side of their head. They have pointed ears like the Vyastil, but their fangs are so large they could be considered tusks.

‘Friend?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Some Vyastil will tell you they are not. That they are dangerous. But they prefer peace. They prefer to be left alone. Their home has been hidden from us since the dawn of our species, and the Vyastil council has spent generations trying to find it.’

I hate that for them, and I can tell Eissa hates it too.

‘My friend.’ He sends me another image of a specific Tarek at a worktable surrounded by small vials, then he spells, ‘SABIK.’

I have a thousand more questions, but right now, I realize I want to spend this moment content in his arms. I don’t feel hesitation in Eissa any longer. He’s not stiff. He’s not pulling away.