Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I can get it for you.”
She shakes her head. “No, it has to be me or it doesn’t mean as much. I want the god to know I am truly grateful that he’s looking out for me. So I need you to take me fishing.” She flinches, as if realizing how demanding that sounds. “Please.”
I grunt again, distracted by the hand playing against my side. “When you feel better.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I feel pretty good now.” Her tone takes on a singsong cadence, and her fingers tickle across my stomach. “The first two days are always the worst. I think the tea is helping, too. You—”
She breaks off as her hand grazes over the head of one straining cock.
“Oh,” Vali breathes. A bright smile wreathes her face and she reaches down and firmly grips my cock in her hand, sending a near-ecstatic clench of pleasure through my sac. “Look at how hard you are. Shall I help you with this, my husband?”
I want to say no. That I have a plan. That we’re going to wait.
But my foolish mouth betrays me.
I don’t say no.
“Now.”
Her eyes light up. “Now’s a very good time, aye. You sit back and let me handle everything. I’ll make you feel so good.”
And there’s so much delight and pleasure on her face that I can’t backtrack my words…and gods help me, I don’t want to. Her excitement fuels mine. This can’t be real—her enthusiasm. I am trapped, and like the weak, selfish fool I am, I’m going to let her do with me as she pleases.
Chapter
Fourteen
VALI
Ithink he likes me after all.
My happiness bubbles over this morning, like a pot of stew filled far too full. He’s here with me, he’s letting me touch him, and he wants me. A man can say all he wants that he’s not interested, but the moment a woman caresses him, he changes his mind. His cock will always rise.
And I’m so glad it does. This, I understand.
I give him a confident smile and tug his kilt down on his hips. The strange fabric falls away, and I make a mental note to ask him about it sometime. Not right now, though, because I want him focused. “Don’t worry about anything,” I tell him in what I hope is a sultry voice. “I’m an expert at—”
He grabs my chin before I can finish the sentence and forces me to look up at him. “No lies between us, Valessa. I mean it.”
“I wasn’t going to say sea-ogres,” I protest, though I was going to embellish a little. “Just that I know what I’m doing with a cock. That’s all.” If I wanted to lie, I’d tell him I’m great in bed. I’m actually pretty rotten because if I don’t want to be there, I lie there like a dead fish.
But it’s different with Ranan. I haven’t forgotten that he saved me, but he’s been rather nice to me in his way, lately. I want to show him that I can be nice to him in my way, too. I want to show him that he made a good choice in taking me as his bride.
I reach down to grip his cock and not one but two cockheads brush against my fingers. Because he has two. I haven’t forgotten. I caress one, then reach down and stroke the other. “Just like I’ve seen before so many times,” I whisper. “Though not so much at once.”
He grunts, but his gaze is so very intense upon me. His ear fins flick, as if he’s wanting to touch me but doesn’t dare to interrupt.
I smile up at him, feeling confident for a change. This I know how to do. I might have lied about knowing all about sea-ogres, but I know men. I trail my fingers up and down one length, and then the other, keeping my touches exploratory and light. Like the rest of him, his skin has a faint greenish cast, like a glass bottle, and I’m entranced by how that color deepens in this most private area of his body. I stroke my hand up his lower cock, comparing it to the top one. They are stacked atop one another, like peas in a pod, though I don’t think he’d like my comparison. He’s only got one sac, a prominent bulge underneath his second cock. I reach down and toy with it, rolling the globes underneath the soft skin gently under my touch.
He’s being utterly silent as I caress him, and I’m used to more reaction from my lovers. I glance up, and his face is tight and hard and impossible to read. “Tell me if I do something that doesn’t feel good to you.”
“Should,” he blurts.
I pause, because no matter how many times I repeat it to myself mentally, it doesn’t make sense. “Should…?”