There Be Mature Content Here
Please be advised that the following is intended for mature readers only.
Luna the Baby Bunny
Okay. So I suck at planning. Like, all aspects of planning. Long-range planning. Detailed planning. On-the-fly planning. That’s all the stuff Rez and Joia are really good at.
Me? I’m a recipe kinda girl.
A pinch of this. A dash of that. Whip it together, add some heat, and bam! You’ve just been seduced.
So, yeah. That’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna feed Pyx until he sleeps with me.
Which means I’m currently in Pyx’s room inside the Bale, snooping around for clues to his culinary appetites.
So far, I got nothing because Pyx’s got nothing.
Seriously. His closet is empty, the bathroom’s spotless, and there’s not one frilly, comfy, pretty thing in his room. Trust me. I’ve checked.
But, my recon for info isn’t a complete bust. There’s a silver lining here. I may have zero clue about what Pyx likes to eat, but I am absolutely certain he’s a bona fide bachelor.
How do I know? Because his bed smells like him and only him. The linens are all spicy and musky and so freaking good… And there’s not a single hint of a female rival that would’ve rocketed me into a jealous-possessive rampage.
Look at me! Using my mating-enhanced super senses for good and not evil! Because—lord help me—if I had caught a whiff of another woman’s scent in my man’s bed…
Yeah. I’m gonna stop right there because my hands are starting to heat up. And every time that happens people get hurt.
I take another deep, gratifying inhale of ‘one-hundred-percent-pure’ Pyx, and my body starts humming with contentment. As I lay on his bed, my nose pressed to his cool sheets, my worries—about my friends having babies, the miners having a working drill, the settlement’s kids having better nutrition—are all muted. Heck, even my constant, anxious monitoring of my cursed hands has eased.
And see? This, right here, is why I gotta fix the whole mating thing. Even though Pyx’s scent has cocooned me in a rare, blissful moment of peace, ultimately, it’s too dang distracting. If I take my eyes off the ‘that’s not a real problem, Luna’ threats, then they’ll go unchecked.
So, I gotta stick to my original recipe, which is simply a version of mix, bake, and serve. I’m gonna mate, break, and then fix every little—
Freaking fudge! I thought I was alone. I also thought I’d locked the door. But this last thought socks me in the gut with a fistful of belly churning humiliation: Pyx is here and I’m lying on his bed.
To be more specific, I’m sprawled out in the middle of his bed—belly down, butt up—with my nose buried in his sheets.
Stupid amazing smelling sheets.
Stupid insatiable mating instincts.
“Luna?” Pyx’s speaking softer, but he’s definitely closer.
Which means he’s next to his bed, staring down at me, and I probably look like an unhinged stalker.
Check that. I know I look like an unhinged stalker. Here I am, an intruder who’s violating his privacy by rolling around in his bed like a Pyx-smelling addict.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
And because he’s Pyx—the best freaking person in whole dang universe—he doesn’t sound angry or interrogative. Instead, his voice’s got that tone that people naturally use when they genuinely want to help you. You know, that tender quality which just warms and sooths your heart.
That’s how Pyx sounds right now.
Heck, that’s how he always sounds—so amazingly genuine that my chest squeezes and my breath hitches.
It kinda hurts, yet sorta feels really wonderful…
“Luna, are you all right?”
“Yep.” But I don’t lift my face from his sheets.
And I really want to lift my head, because the room is now filling with his fresh scent. The potency of this ‘straight from the source’ infusion is doing things to me. My body’s melting and tingling and coiling and—
“You’re not hurt?” he asks.
“No. I’m fine.” Actually, I’m a mess.
“There’s nothing wrong?”
“Not a thing.” Everything’s wrong.
“Do you need something?”
“I’m good.” You. I need you.
I can hear it in his voice. He’s running outta possible explanations. And I kinda gotta give him credit for really digging deep there. His earnest attempts to make sense of my epically failed recon mission are impressive.
I hear him exhale. “Then I guess I’ll just reset the alarm and go.”
Oh fudge. “The alarm?”
“Yeah. It alerts me when my room is accessed.”
“Sends a notification through my armor’s comm system.”
“Of course it does,” I mumble before shoving my face harder into the sheets, trying to stifle my ‘your-such-an-idiot-Luna’ moan.
The Bale—the Akupara’s base on Warren’s—is an actual flies-through-space spaceship. Of-freaking-course Pyx’s room would have an alarm.
You know, I used to be freaking awesome at sneaking and snooping on spaceships. Back on the scientists’ barge, I was in and outta holding cells and labs like a badass shadow. But somehow my stupid, Pyx-obsessed mating instincts have made me a tunnel-visioned stalker who forgets about surveillance technology.
This is just so…
“So,” Pyx says, his voice still full of caring and confusion. “I’ll just reset and—”
“No,” I groan in the sheets.
Ugh. I’m the worst. Pyx shouldn’t feel unwelcome in his own room because I’m an incompetent stalker.
I squeeze my eyes shut, take one last fortifying hit of his aphrodisiacal sheets, and roll onto my side.
“Don’t go, Pyx.” I’m trying to appear casual and breezy, but I’m pretty sure my delivery’s awkward and squeaky. “I’m sor…”
I’m staring up at Pyx. He’s staring back at me.
“…I’m…” My unfinished apology—which does a fantastic job of reading the room—changes into a shuddered, flustered exhale of ‘never mind’ because…
…Oh my tingling bits and pieces…
Just look at him.
Pyx’s chest—which is strikingly sculpted by his body-hugging armor—is heaving like he’d just ran around Warren’s dozens of times. Heck, maybe even hundreds of times.
And although he’s wearing his armor, his helmet’s off. In his hand—which is hovering, as if forgotten, by his head with the bulge of his shoulder and bicep frozen in place—he’s holding the neatly retracted, bar-of-soap-sized disc of his helmet.
I make eye contact with him.
You know those overly dramatic types who fan themselves while sighing wistfully about heavy, heated gazes? Well, I just joined their club. Gonna go pay for my lifetime membership and sign-up for committees right after my body stops sizzling like arcing antimatter.
I swear, a simple brush of Pyx’s fingertips against my puckering nips or dampening nub, and I’ll burst—
Desire burns through me.
What do you know? No touching necessary. All it took was thinking about Pyx touching me, and now there’s heat flushing my core and creating a delicious, pulsating ache in my clit.
Pyx takes a deep, nostril-flaring, chest-expanding inhale.
“Luna,” he growls, but it’s strained and rumbles into a hungry sounding groan.
That needy, achy pulse in my shebits spikes. I can’t help it. I suck in a breath, pulling more of his fresh scent—straight from the source—into me, as my whole body vibrates with searing want.
Pyx. Pyx. Pyx.
He takes another gusty inhale and groans. The heady, raw tone in his voice zips straight to my breasts and core, and I gasp.
Seriously, it’s an involuntary, yet totally genuine hitch that locks up my burning chest and swells my clenching core.
“By Aku,” Pyx’s gaze heats even more—I’m totally gonna hold a membership drive for the Heated Gaze Club. Soon. Right after this. “You smell so good.”
Wait. He can smell my arousal?
“Yes.” Pyx’s chest’s heaving faster. “It’s so fucking good, Luna.”
He nods as his nostrils flare, kicking off another chest-expanding inhale. “Out-fucking-standingly good.”
He thinks that I smell good.
I think he smells good.
Knowing all this good stuff is actually great because I am trying to seduce him. And it’s working. I think.
I mean, he looks like he’s seduced. But, just to be sure, I flick my eyes to his crotch.
Right. He’s got his armor on…
But I’m pretty sure he’s totally seduced. He’s got the whole heated gaze and rising-falling chest thing going on. And since I kinda match his outward response—my gaze locked on him despite the strain in my neck and the burning of my hyperventilating lungs, I’m gonna assume that our internal responses—undeniable lust—are on the same page.
Good god, please let us be on the same page. I’m so turned on right now, I’m gonna end up sobbing if he’s not feeling the same intense, primal-driven desperation as well.
“Luna.” Pyx swallows and the thick cords of his neck flex. “What would you have me do?”
Okay. This is it. Now or never, Luna.
I lick my lips, arch my back, and—please, oh please let this work—issue a sultry command, “Touch me, Pyxis.”
Pyx groans. His armor creaks. Something implodes.
As a deep, echoing pop bounces around the room, Pyx and I shift our wide-eyed gazes to his clenched hand.
Oh my freaking biscuits.
Pyx just pulverized his helmet-disc-thingy. Crushed it in the palm of his hand.
Pyx has all this freaking strength that he’s constantly trying to restrain. This realization does something to me. Just like the sound of Pyx ripping my skirt the other night had actually ratcheted up my desire—
I’m too freaking late making the connection. Whereas Pyx tearing my skirt had turned me on, I now know that it’d caused him to bolt.
He’s bolting now. As he backs away from me, he’s frantically shaking his head as fear and mortification overtake his expression.
So I lunge for him. “Pyx! Wait!”
Only, my legs get all caught up in the sheets, and I sorta tumble and flop outta his bed. My flailing arms are seeking a secure hold, so I grasp onto Pyx like he’s a lifeline.
Now here I am, sprawled on the floor—after having exposed myself with that stupid ‘Touch me’ command, clinging to Pyx’s leg, and begging him not to leave me.
…oh fuck me…
…my nightmare has come true.
Pyxis The Restrained
Looking down at Luna, I rove my gaze over her again and again. From the delicate toe-point of her boots, I move on to the skirt that has bunched up, revealing her silky thighs. Then I pause to take in the contrast of her small, soft hands gripping my armor-covered leg as she’s pressing her breasts against me. Her face is tilted up, exposing the column of her throat. The delicate skin of her neck, which is fluttering with her pulse, is dotted with faint, pink tinges. Letting my gaze settle there for a split second, I mentally log the fading nip and suck marks that I’d given to her the other night.
Finally, I meet her naked, pleading gaze.
I’m caught. Trapped in Luna’s hold as a riot is raging inside of me.
The brutish, mate-driven part of me—spurred by Luna clinging to me, offering up her lush body as she’s sweetly begging—demands that I pleasure her.
But I know—by Aku, do I know—that Luna deserves a real warrior. One who’s achieved true, uncompromising control of his impulses.
Fuck control, snarls my instincts. Our mate commands us.
Oh thank fuck. For once, that damnable creak is useful.
At the sound of my tell, Luna blinks. Her expression snaps from pleading to—
My body tenses, bracing against a rising, foreboding chill. The way Luna looks…
Something’s wrong. Like, really fucking wrong.
Her eyes open wide in shock and she sucks in a sharp gasp. As she stares up at me, the color drains from her face. She starts to tremble.
“Oh,” she moans on a shaky exhale.
My body jolts, reacting to her distress, and I reach for her. But I’m grasping at air. Luna’s already released my leg.
Shoving herself away, she releases another heartrending moan, “Oh god!”
She’s retreating from me, scuttling backward on the floor until her back bumps into my bed frame. “Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod-oh—”
Her breath hitches, and her sharp gasp has my chest clenching as well. Hell, I feel like I’m trying to hold onto my last lungful of air.
She squeezes her eyes shut. “I can’t do this.”
“I tried.” She’s frantically shaking her head. “I tried so dang hard. I can’t. I just can’t do this with you anymore.”
“With me anymore?” My head throbs once, then an airy, disorienting lightness buckles my knees. “You can’t claim me?”
I sink to floor, my gaze locked on my limp hands.
Look at that. After all this time, the secret to controlling my fucked up hands—
Luna gasps, and the sharply pitched inhale snaps my gaze up.
Her cheeks are flushed a prickly, heated red, and her eyes are rounded in mortification. “I’m saying all this out loud. Aren’t I?”
I’m nodding—because, yes, she’s been rambling—but then I start shaking my head. “I don’t understand what—”
“I’m trying to seduce you. Oh shit!” She slaps her hands over her mouth.
I get it. She’s just caught herself speaking out loud. Again.
But she’s still not really explaining things.
I keep shaking my head. “You’re—”
“Yes.” Luna drops her hands and nods emphatically, countering each of my ‘no’ head shakes. “Yes, I am. I got it into my head that if I could make your favorite foods, then we’d just…” she shrugs. “You know.”
No. I don’t know.
All I know is that my heart’s started kicking against my plastron and I can fucking breathe again.
That, and I’m pretty sure she’s left out something vital to all this.
Luna shrugs again and keeps going. “So, I kinda let myself into you room to snoop out your tastes and stuff. Was trying to figure out what you’d like to eat—”
By Aku. I’d just said that out loud, like some mate-crazed impulsive idiot.
Her brows wrinkle as she looks at me. “Are we talking carnally or carnivore—” She crunches up her nose. “Carnivorally? Crap. That’s not a word.” Then she looks away and grumbles, “Carnal orally. Yeah. Right. Stupid Luna.”
“Carnivorously!” She says triumphantly, before blowing out breath and letting her shoulders droop. “But yeah, I know. That’s not what you’d meant.” Again, she shakes her head and looks away from me. “I screwed this all up.”
Maybe she did. Honestly, I don’t fucking know because even though she’s talking, she’s not making any sense.
“I mean, just look at you.” She flips her hand at me. “You’re a badass warrior and I’m on the freaking floor because I fell outta your bed and—” She huffs. “I shouldn’t even be in your bed.”
“You should be in my bed.” That much is incredibly obvious.
“Aw.” She gives me a kind, but kinda pitying, smile. “That’s really nice of you, Pyx. But I don’t need to lie down. I’m not hurt. Nothing’s broken. Well, nothing’s physically bro—”
Okay. I finally get it. This is what Kinixys has been trying to tell me. At some point, with a human female, you just gotta ‘stop all the rambling.’
Using my speed, I scoop Luna up from the floor and place her on the edge of my bed. My swift movement has stirred the air in the room, swirling Luna’s scent around me. With my helmet off, I’m inhaling a fresh, unfiltered dose of her.
It’s the best fucking thing in the world. Immediately, I’m energized and sharply focused.
I gaze down at Luna to see that she’s gaping up at me. Even though she’s on the bed and I’m still kneeling on the floor, she’s just so tiny—
My hands spasm, but fuck ’em.
I’ve got things to say. “You didn’t seduce me.”
She blinks, and her astonished gape turns adorably annoyed. “I know that. I’d just said—”
“Luna. You’re not listening to me.” Time to move this along. “You should be in my bed because I want you in my bed.”
She blinks once more and—thank Aku—her astonished gape is back. Fabulous. When she’s gaping, she’s not talking.
I keep pushing forward. “Also, I’m pretty sure you’re my favorite thing to eat, even though I haven’t tasted you yet.” Gonna move on to that as well. “But I want to. To taste you. And I mean carnal orally.”
Luna swallows and rasps out, “You do?”
The doubt in her voice pulls a low groan from me. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad, Luna.”
“Wha—Why?” She’s shaking her head. “You said I didn’t seduce you?”
I’m also shaking my head. “You didn’t.”
“I’m already yours.”
She’s back to gaping at me in wide-eyed, opened-mouth astonishment. That fact that I’ve got her so amazingly speechless is pumping searing determination through me—to prove to her that I’m not shit talking her.
Instinctively, my hands reach out to cup her face, but I snag control over them. I course-correct by pressing my palms to the mattress, settling my hands on either side of her hips.
“I’m yours.” Locking our gaze, I lower my face to hers. “I want to hollow myself out so that I may shelter you within me, always.”
There. I’ve said it—the deepest declaration that an Akupara can vocalize—yet I’ve still not fully conveyed how overwhelmingly desperate I am for her.
Luna sucks in a breath, then says softly, “Pyx, that’s gr—”
I kiss her.
Dive right in and capture her mouth.
Because if she’s about to reject me, I want her taste on my lips one last time before I completely shatter into pieces.
As I crest over her, I’m groaning and pressing closer to her—because she tastes so fucking good, driving her down—
No. I’m not the one tumbling us to the mattress.
It’s Luna—with her lips fused to mine—who’s drawing us down. The way she’s feasting on me—her lips and tongue matching my greedy hunger—has my mating instincts charging in feral fanaticism after her lead.
Luna breaks our kiss. I growl in desperate frustration as I try to reclaim her lips. If I could just slide my hand under her chin and tilt her face up…
My hands spasm, forcing me to break off my pursuit of her mouth as I battle the impulse to just grab Luna and claim—
Fuck. How she said my name…
…moaning it in such breathy, cock-swelling need—
“Want you,” she pants into my neck.
Startled, I push up, extending my arms as I brace myself over her.
I’d heard her. I did. But I need to see her. To confirm that my ears aren’t liars.
Luna’s beneath me. Her chest’s heaving and her heated gaze is locked on mine.
With her hands over her head, gripping the sheets, she moves, arching up and pressing her hips against mine. My cock—insulated in my armor—kicks inside my loin cop. My hips grind into hers as hot, intense arousal shoots through me and—
I shudder. My arms tremble.
“Luna,” I deflate my lungs as I groan out her name, “what would—”
But I bite off the rest.
‘What would you have me do?’ Hell, I’d almost said the words that’ve fucked things up every time Luna and I’ve found ourselves…
Well, every time she’s asked me to touch her, my hands’ve fucked it up.
This time, I can’t. I just can’t.
I flick my gaze to my hands.
My black-armored fists are brutally clenching the white sheets just a finger-twitch away from Luna’s fanned-out hair. Beneath her strands, not entirely covered, are her hands.
She’s clenching the sheets, same as me.
And, if she’s clenching the sheets—her tiny fists trembling—for the same reason?
Outstanding. No using our hands.
“Luna. Tell me—” My mouth begins to salivate, so I swallow. “Tell me how to pleasure you with my tongue.”
Luna the Baby Bunny
Tongue? He’d said ‘tongue.’ Didn’t he?
My shebits gawk at me, Tell him what to do, you idiot!
Wait. Just, wait a second.
There’s something I’m missing, and I need to process this.
Don’t you fucking DARE overthink this! My shebits shriek. Tell him! Tell. Him.
But as I run my gaze over Pyx, my thumping heart’s booming in my ears, drowning out my raging shebits.
Pyx’s hovering over me, holding himself up—his arms are extended and trembling slightly—as his intense stare pins me to the bed. I’m totally getting the vibe that he’s waiting but not waiting patiently. Heck, he’s like a salivating predator who’s straining against, um, restraints to reach his prey.
Ok. I’m not a wordsmith.
But his request ‘Tell me how to pleasure you with my tongue’ is doing a crap ton of things to me. My clit’s throbbing. My core’s achy. My last breath’s trapped in my chest and burning up my lungs…
Whenever I would imagine being with Pyx, I’d never-freaking-ever thought it’d be so nerve wrackingly, shebit arousingly overwhelming. It also doesn’t help matters that my imagination takes this sex-charged moment to revise its former mental image. I’m being bombarded with hot, searing flashes of Pyx’s face buried between my thighs as the phantom sensations of him tonguing my clit lights up my core.
Yep. Totally overwhelmed right now. Because, you know, Pyx.
And his tongue.
Plus no hands.
“I—” Crap. My voice’s all scratchy and tight—just like my skin. I clear my throat. “Um, just your tongue?”
Pyx’s reply is deep and even as he nods. “Just my tongue.”
Then he swallows and something ripples through him. His jaw clenches, flattening his mouth and popping the corded muscles in the column of his neck. Also, a muffled, cut-off creak reaches my ears.
That creaking sound was his gauntlets. Well, it’s really his hands fisting and compressing the plates of his nearly-indestructible armor. Which is so damn exhilarating, knowing he’s got that kinda strength…
No. Focus. Gotta focus.
No hands. He wants to be hands free.
You know what? That’s a fan-freaking-tastic idea! Why the heck didn’t I think of this sooner?
Pyx shakes his head. “Don’t know. Neither did I.”
Neither did he.
Which totally makes sense. Each time we’ve tried this—to touch one another as a prelude to mind-blowing pleasure—our hands have stopped us before we really had a chance to start.
His request—to use his tongue—fixes everything. Freaking everything.
Pyx nods. “By Aku, I hope so.”
And this brings me to yet another thing about his ‘use-my-tongue’ request. He’d spoken it with such insistence that…
Well, he’d flat out commanded me to tell him how to pleasure me and that has a shiver moving through me.
I release a shaky exhale.
It’s a whimpery, whiny kinda moan that I couldn’t hold back. I sound so pathetically needy. Pretty much bordering on shamelessly begging. I should be feeling a sharp blow to my pride. Only, I’m not.
My mind’s easing—letting go of my doubt-inducing tension—making way for the tingling anticipation that’s searing through me. My nerves are coiling in eager excitement while the rest of me is limbering up, getting ready for him.
“Okay,” I say then wince internally.
Okay. That’s such a flippant, human thing to say. Dang it. I’ve ruined this. This is just so—
Pyx shifts and I instinctively go still. Next—I swear—there’s a split-of-a-split second where his spine’s loosening and his eyes are softening. His entire body’s sagging with relief.
Then it’s gone.
“Okay,” Pyx mimics me as his chest swells.
Seriously! He’s bulking up as he heaves in a breath that flares his nostrils. And now we’re just staring at one another. He’s still above me. His arms are steady, solid supports, propping him up like the struts on a ship. And his dark eyes have stayed locked on me as we just stare and stare…
He exhales and a deep, low growl rumbles through the room. “Fucking fantastic.”
Yes. It is. It most certainly is.
“Tell me.” He growls again. “Show me.”
And here comes my imagination, once again flashing that toe-curling, back-arching view of Pyx between—
Show him! My shebits give me a good shake. For the love of god! Show him!
Quit dragging your fucking feet and get naked, Luna!
Right. Get naked. Spread my legs. Part my folds—
“Luna.” Pyx squeezes his eyes shut and groans, sounding kinda in agony and definitely aroused. “Do all of that.”
“All of it. Everything you just said.”
Everything I just…
I’m yapping out loud.
And that’s fucking great. Wanna know why? Because I’m totally gonna do everything I just said. This is it. Totally. Freaking. It.
I’m already pulling up my dress, aiming to get my soaked undies off. But my legs are getting tangled up in the skirt, and I’m kinda kicking wildly at Pyx, which I really don’t mean to be doing…
Still, I’m determined that this time, it’s so gonna happen.
“Move.” I huff as I try to lift my butt off the mattress. “Up. Off.”
Yeah. I suck at making demands.
But Pyx, god bless him, rears up and scoots back.
As I’m wrangling with my—crap! Never wearing a stupid skirt again—clothing, I rake my eyes over his chest.
His big, broad, sculpted-by-armor chest.
Yeah. That armor’s gotta go.
“Strip.” Look at me! Issuing throaty, sex-soaked commands and all.
Forget what I said earlier. I’m awesome at giving orders because Pyx starts tearing at his armor.
Good god, he’s shredding it with his hands, and the teeth-gritting rending hits me in two ways.
First, it’s deliciously good because the primal display of his strength rockets me straight into the ‘Sex Me Now’ stratosphere. But it’s also disastrously bad because, when either Pyx or I believe we’ve lost control, we lose the moment.
Well, that’s not gonna stop us this time.
“Hurry,” I say as I get my dress up over my head and—
Yeah. I’m stuck.
My hands aren’t coordinating with my elbows, and my shoulders have left to form their own team.
But still. Not stopping.
As I’m gasping and thrashing about—kinda like an asthmatic cat hyperventilating in a sack—my voice gets all winded and muffled, “Heya, Pyx? Think you could gimme—”
There’s a new rending sound—fabric this time—and I’m bathed in fresh air and unfiltered light.
Yay! I’m saved!
I’m also naked.
Pyx’s naked too, and he’s on his knees, looming over me, with the torn halves of my dress—plus my undies and bra—in his hands. My eyes flick south.
Yep. He’s aroused. Hugely aroused.
I’m gawking at him. I totally am. How can I not? He’s a freaking warrior amongst his people. Even the beefiest of the guards on the scientists’ barge would’ve lost to Pyx in a thumb-versus-arm wrestling match. You know, where Pyx’d use his thumb and the guard would use his arm, and the guard would lose.
Plus the match.
But losing an arm kinda implies losing—
“Show me, Luna,” Pyx rasps out.
Right. Pay attention, idiot!
I refocus as Pyx’s gaze starts sliding down my body. The intense look in his eyes is heating up everything in its path.
My neck’s tingling with the memory of his hot, open-mouth kisses. My breasts and nipples are flaring up in jealousy that Pyx’d tasted my neck first. And my belly’s a hotbed of spiraling, sex-starved need.
His traveling gaze stops, locking onto my pussy. “Open, Luna.”
My breath hitches as my chest squeezes my lungs and my core clenches. With another shaky exhale, I spread my legs—because this needs to happen—and lower my back to the mattress.
Pyx, who’s upright on his knees, drops the shredded pieces of my clothing—letting them fall like forgotten kills. His eyes ignite—sparking like lightning—before he sinks down onto his haunches.
“Show—” His voice busts apart, disintegrating into a growl. He chuffs a throat-clearing grunt, then says roughly, “Show me.”
Even though this extremely focused man—er, male isn’t acting like Infectiously Inquisitive Pyx, he’s still Pyx. You know, just a more Intensely Inquisitive Pyx who’s tenaciously demanding satisfaction for his sexually piqued curiosity.
And I’m oh-freaking-kay mixing and mingling with this version of Pyx.
He says ‘open,’ I open. He says ‘show me,’ I reach between my thighs and—
I gasp, but it’s more of a stunted hiccup because I’ve already sucked a startled, chest-ballooning amount of air in my lungs. Being caught off guard does that to a girl. One second you’re parting your wet folds to show the Universe’s most sexily sweet warrior how to lick your needy nub, and the next second his tongue’s toggling you like your clit’s a switch.
I like it. A lot.
There a fresh burst of awareness throughout all the nerves in my center, and each flick of his tongue sparks through me. My back bows, tilting my hips just so…
Pyx moans in a mixture of male satisfaction and eager astonishment.
With his hands fisting the sheets on either side of me, his body surges—dipping and arching like a wave—clicking the plates on his back. He presses his mouth closer, his hulking shoulders spreading my legs wider.
I’m babbling now. Over and over PyxohPyxohPyx. Each time I’m sobbing his name in synch with his ravenous flicks.
“Fuck, Luna.” He draws out the words as a low groan. “Good. So good.”
It is incredibly, out-fucking-standingly good. He’s lavishing me as thoroughly as I’d lick cake batter off a mixing spoon.
Pyxis ‘something-something’ Umara, the Lavisher.
Because that title’s gotta be a real thing, right? The Akupara have so many ridiculous accolades for practically everything. So, why not this?
“More.” He pulls back, abandoning my throbbing, right-on-the-edge clit.
I’m rearing up, a hysterical plea tearing from my throat to not fucking stop, when he dips his head down and sinks his tongue deep inside—
Yep. I’m keening because his tongue is firm and thick and fabulously articulated. He’s giving me that amazing stretch that satisfies that achy, empty feeling inside of me, while also—oh, and this is a huge freaking ‘also’—curling his tongue up and lapping at that glorious spot…
I’m gasping. I’m sobbing. I’m a fucking mess. My body’s locking down as it’s lighting up. My muscles tense. My heart races. Pain-laced bliss is burning, burning, burning—
There. Oh good god. There.
Hell, he may as well’ve tossed me into Warren’s sun because I’m engulfed by my release.
My stupid hands have set the sheets on fire.
This chapter is complete! I’ve enabled commenting and have added my own thoughts as well.
As always, thank you so much for reading!
From Slow & Steady: The Velveteen Tortoise
Copyright © 2020, 2021 by Bex McLynn
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