Bride of Glass

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Bride of Glass Page 27

by Jeanette Lynn


  “I don’t know what this says about me,” I muttered, “but fuck if that’s not really hot…”

  Legs tightening around his waist, my ankles crossed at his back, I looped my arms around his neck, squirming my body back into place. My breasts pressing into his pecs, I waited until his eyes met mine to continue.

  As if a silent look of agreement passed between us, his hands loosened but still held tight, just not restrictively so. This was my show, and he was, I knew, allowing it.

  A small smile twisted my lips and I gave him a kiss, a long, languorous one that distracted him to the point he growled and his hips started to move. About to thrust, his hips pulling back for just such purposes, I stiffened and began to pull back, breaking our connection, lips, hips, chests and all.

  Tokre grunted but stopped, not liking the sudden disconnect, and just like that his lust bubble popped.

  I could barely believe it, but this could actually work.

  My beast-husband was rewarded with a nipping, licking, teasing tonguing, his breath chuffing out in harsh, heady little pants as I resumed my attempt to fuck him, for once. I went slowly at first, my hips trying to find their own rhythm, taking more and more of him inside of me with each pass.

  Not so bad, maybe even a little- “Right… right there. Gah, don’t move!”

  Half way home, one peek between us showed, and then I was right back to staring into two infinite pools of obsidian, burning into me like a brand. Mine, that look said.

  Maybe it was kind of weird, staring into your lover’s eyes as you slowly fucked them, but it kept him in the moment, grounded, without going horny wildebeest on me.

  Tokre’s hips gave the tiniest of pumps, and he groaned as my body accepted even more of him. We were just about at that point now, the point where pain mixed with pleasure, but I wasn’t about to stop.

  He felt good, thick and hard as a fucking rock, giving in to the rhythm of my hips to join me instead of outdo me.

  My clit rubbed against his abdomen with every grinding press, his motions growing choppy, stilted. His chest was heaving like a bellows, trying to suck air into his lungs in great gulping gasps like he’d forgotten how to breathe, and his legs began to wobble.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” I moaned out loud. “Hold on, big guy, almost, mmm, there.” God, was I ever. Chasing that elusive climax, right there but not quite, I picked up my pace, rocking that massive cock like I owned it.

  Tokre was sucking in sharper, shorter gasps of air, like a fish out of water. With a series of strangled gasps he started moving, stumbling towards the wall by the bed, his hand slapping the wall to try and hold himself up. He was muttering gibberish, his nostrils flared, lips pulled back in a snarl, his hips still wriggling with mine, thick fur matted with a thin sheen of sweat. He didn’t break, even then, not once.

  I was close, so close, my grip on his neck tightening until my nails dug in. Right on the verge of an orgasm, I cried out, my legs starting to tremble, my sex clenching and unclenching around him frantically in the beginnings of the end of this dance.

  A pounding started at the door, because everyone had great fucking timing, but I shook my head. No, freaking way. We were doing this, and we were going to do it right, and by god we were going to finish this! I was going to have an orgasm and unpainful sex if it killed me.

  The pounding grew, thudding heavily, rattling the window as a deep, beastly voice called out from the other side of the door.

  I could barely make it out over the blood rushing my head, a wild thudding filling my ears.

  “Fuck off! We’re… we’re- Ah. We’re fucking busy!” I shouted, gripping Tokre’s face to force his attention back to me, us, this, when the rattling of the walls drew his attention. “Oh god, we’re having sex. Ah… god, we’re having really good sex- Ah, don’t you fucking move. Yes, just like that!”

  A moan erupted from my throat, spilling from my lips. I didn’t know it could feel like this. My breaths were coming in soft pants, matching the frantic motion of my hips and Tokre’s wild snarls. He was right there, too, right with me.

  One thrust, two, building, building, until my stomach clenched tight, toes practically curling, my sex suddenly squeezing him like a vice. His cock jerked wildly in reaction, and then I was flying over the edge. Everything inside of me locked up, then burst, a wave of pleasure washing over me.

  Tokre let out a strangled shout, and then he clutched me to him, right as his legs collapsed beneath him. His cock jerked and he let off a startled shout, crying out, that strange, helpless sound filling my ears as we tumbled to the floor as he came.

  The second his ass slammed the hard floor, I tried to jerk up but his pecker rammed itself up my honey hole. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and I was sure my insides were still whole, but ramming a steel pole into your cervix, there was no way to do so nicely.

  What was proving to be an earth shattering climax ended in a startled scream of pain, my mouth opened wide, eyes instantly watering.

  My feet slammed the floor, still partially wrapped around Tokre’s waist, my knees following—it was like the air was suddenly sucked right from my lungs and I’d forgotten how to breath. I found myself gulping frantically.

  Smacking at the male beneath me to release me when he gaped up at me in equal parts euphoria, stupefaction, and worry, he groaned as I shoved his hands off and pulled back, his cock slowly sliding from my depths.

  No blood and my innards didn’t tumble out after I’d uncorked him, that was a good sign.

  A slight pink sheen tinted his semi hard manhood, mixing with the mad amount of semen still shooting from his slit. At the sight of it Tokre sniffed, then glanced at me.

  Bent over, clutching my knees, I was grimacing, grunting, groaning, rocking my thick frame as I tried to will the good and jabbed feeling away. There was good and fucked, and then fucked, and I was experiencing a bit of both. “Shit,” I muttered emphatically.

  The pounding at the door ceased, and then the door just wasn’t there. In its place stood Zhuii, who tossed the mangled hunk of wood to the side and ran into the room.

  “Rosie-lindy?! Rosie-lindy?!” he bellowed, his head whipping around frantically as he searched me out.

  “Did you just- I- You don’t just- You’re going to pay for that,” I muttered, lifting a shaking hand to wave at the door. “And shut the damned thing, for Hoban’s sake, would ya, it’s snowing out there!” And not to mention I’m totally freaking naked.

  “Zhuii smell... blood.” The blue-haired beast gave a hard sniff and went to approach. At one long, censorious look from me, with a grumble under his breath he retrieved the door, as instructed, and walked back with it, shoving it into place.

  Dusting his hands off, he grumbled something under his breath as he made his way over to us.

  “Rosie hurt?” His scowl was so deep he was sporting a fluffy unibrow.

  At the look on my face, as I sat there silently staring up at him strangely, he made an unhappy noise in his throat.

  “Where? Where Zhuii Rosie hurt?” The beast was on me in a hot minute, scooping me up and carting my ass to the bed.

  My dress hiked up to my neck and all, ignoring Tokre’s warning snarls as my mate groaned, still ejaculating and trembling violently away, jerking from the force of it, from his prone position on the floor, Zhuii paid it all no mind.

  Serves him right, I thought nastily, sparing a glance for my mate. I hope he lays there until he’s crusted in a pool of his own baby juice, and ends up looking like something out of a slimy cocooning monster alien film—the goo chrysalis before the real monster emerged! Glued to the floor!

  Zhuii’s hands, smoothing up my thighs and straight up into my personal space, shook me from my thoughts.

  “Oh! What- I- Eep!” My breasts jiggled in place, my stomach sucking in as his fat fingers grazed my lady lips and sensitive clit.

  It was over as fast as it had started, the barrel chested beast’s hand pulling back to sniff at the war
m, sticky liquid tipping his fingers, a funny feeling tickling the pit of my stomach.

  Oh fuck, not with him, too! Beast slut!

  Rosa the Realist had freed herself from the closet and was in full bitch, you’re crazy! mode.

  I couldn’t exactly argue with her.

  And then Zhuii made a noise, a very weird noise that pulled me right from my rattled mind. His chest rose and fell deeply, his nostrils flaring wide with each breath.

  He’s not going to do what I think he’s- “Oh, Zhu, you don’t want to… let me just go get a- Uhm…”

  Bringing his hand directly under his nose, his tongue peeked out and he gave his fingers a slow lick, a surprised grunt sneaking out of him. Inhaling again, deeper than before, as if he wished to fill his lungs with the scent, a deep rumble bubbled his chest.

  “Don’t you dare purr,” I whispered angrily, struggling to pull my dress down over my still completely exposed tits. How could I have forgotten that, I wanted to squawk indignantly.

  Spotting my wayward bosom, Zhuii swallowed the growl in his throat.

  Eyeing me as I glared at him, those orange eyes of his darting from my exposed breasts and beyond to my surly expression, his hand around my waist, cradling me to him, paused as if to debate.

  Back and forth his eyes ping-ponged, from my now partially covered boobs because this dress was really tangled up there, his glistening fingers, to my hoo-hah, to the angry faced owner of said exposed parts and partial contributor of sticky bodily fluids, and ‘round and ‘round he went.

  As if coming to a decision, his nostrils fluttering and pinching with each breath, he shoved his love-juice covered fingers in his mouth, his hand at my waist lifting to yank the top of my dress down and then yank me to him. Smoothing the dress of my skirt over my thighs, he began to absently massage the meaty flesh.

  Zhuii groaned as he sucked on his thick digits and I sat there in stunned, spluttering silence, a heavy purr rumbling his chest, rattling me from stem to sternum.

  My still sensitive body twinging, in both the good and bad sense, and I groaned.

  My head fell against Zhuii’s shoulder heavily, in more of an attempt to hide my face than anything, and I wriggled, squirming, very aware of the sudden gush and rush of fluids starting to leak from my sex.

  Because none of this was screwed up enough as it already is, and now I get to leak on someone’s leg!

  “Pretend I just pissed on you,” I grumbled in response to Zhuii’s grunt of surprise and inquisitive sniff, that weighty sniff followed by a hungry sounding, barely muffled growl.

  The deep, soul rattling growl he let loose that followed, vibrating clean through me, he could just jerk himself off with that nonsense. I was in no shape to service my own mate again, let alone another one.

  Maybe that’s what happened, maybe that was the torture—not eating them or tearing them to pieces in a fit of rage, dragging them around like hairy cavemen—fucking their mate to death, if birthing their giant hairy monster babies didn’t get them first.

  Expecting the blue-topped demon beast to pop the fingers he was sucking so noisily free and fall on me in some strange, heated frenzy at the scent of my inexplicable arousal, his growl ground to a halt when I froze in his hold, my legs reflexively clamping together. My entire being clammed up as if to stave off what I fretted might come next.

  The deep throated croon he made instead as he did indeed slide his fingers free with a wet pop, his hold at my hip loosening instantly, had me staring at him in silent confusion.

  “S’okay, Rosie-lindy.” One sharp but brief, accusatory yet questioning look at Tokre—who was still struggling to regain his composure, lolling about on the floor, those dark eyes of his trained on Zhuii’s hand on my hip as he snarled softly—and as Zhuii’s eyes traveled lower the orange-eyed Lo denaii chuffed in disgust.

  Lifting his wet fingers, he signed something at Tokre with one hand that had Tokre clamping his snarling maw shut, his teeth gritting as he slowly lifted a shaking hand and signed back.

  Zhuii shifted his weight on the bed, jargling me and all my lovely, sensitive bits in the process. I wanted to moan out loud, but feared how that could be taken, especially when more of the fruits of our lovemaking left me to grace the male’s thick thigh.

  Right. Yep. Because this isn’t mortifying enough.

  “S’okay. S’okay,” Zhuii crooned in a quiet sing-song, as if to reassure me, which had the opposite of his desired effect. As if noting this, his hands were gentle as they wrapped around me in a loose hug. “S’okay, Lindy-mine.”

  Tokre snarled at the action, grunting as he slowly sat up, but he stilled at the quick swipe of his translator’s hand as it lifted to slash through the air in his direction. The fierce look Zhuii gave him indicated it had not been complimentary. “Too big,” he grumbled aloud, his hand following along to sign, singlehandedly, as he spoke.

  Tokre, chuffing and grunting under his breath, huffing liberally, though he’d visibly began to squirm in place, didn’t have a response.

  Leaning in to give the side of my head a quick, reassuring nuzzle, his hands coasted over me so carefully, checking for injuries.

  Zhuii’s soft touch was so at odds with his clumsy, lumbering disposition, so different from what I would have imagined from the blunt male, belaying my initial assessment of him as an act now, think later being. He treated me like I was made of glass.

  “Gentle,” he said softly, though his tone was chastising. It wasn’t meant for me, I realized. His hand followed to sign. “Little.” He glanced down pointedly to the juncture of my thighs, ignoring my squeak of a protest and profuse blush. “Must be gentle with Rosie-lindy.” Giving my hip a good squeeze, he grumbled. “No break Zhuii’s Lindy-mine, Tokre.”

  “I-I-I- I’m not your Lindy-m-m-m-mine,” I spluttered.

  Zhuii’s gaze slowly lifted from Tokre’s to meet mine and he made a noise that contradicted that.

  Blinking into wild orange eyes, I didn’t say a damned word.

  A short staring match ensued, but I was the first to look away. It didn’t surprise me, that I was the first to give in, but I couldn’t help the annoyance I felt at my lack of willpower. I’m weak.

  Thick fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to face him. Uncomfortable, I squirmed under that steady regard. “Rosie-lindy strong.”

  My eyes about popped out of my head and I made a funny noise. “I don’t- I didn’t- Can you read minds, too?!” I didn’t think I could handle anymore supernatural, alien-like weirdness or abilities. The advantages they already had over me were daunting enough.

  Zhuii’s lips pulled into a slow, easy smile and he chuckled, shaking his head. “No read minds. Zhuii see, though. Smell. Rosie hard on herself. Rosie little but strong, good female, soft here,” his hand lifted to brush my cheek, my shoulder, my waist. “Strong here.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips over my temple softly, so softly it was feather light, a quick peck. “Here.” A deep, throaty growl rumbled his chest as his hand slid to my chest, my dress loose and hanging off of one shoulder, exposing my cleavage, his mitt of a paw spanning out, fingers splaying between my breasts but never touching them directly.

  A heady purr rumbled his chest as his eyes followed the motion. He had to take a deep breath and pause, as if to steady himself, before he continued.

  That was okay, I was having a bit of a time breathing steadily myself.

  As if under his spell, I was taken in, feeling sweetly seduced by his words.

  Was it warm in here, because gosh oh golly it was getting pretty uncomfortably warm in here to me all of a sudden.

  Discontent with our little tête à tête, Tokre made his displeasure known. The loud but short snarl that echoed throughout the room from Zhuii in response had me jumping out of my skin.

  Zhuii was close, so close, his breath warm on my cheek, moving closer, whispering along my nape, his fur brushing against me in a teasing tickle. I shivered and turned, letting out a soft puff of air that fell right over h
is lips, his face so much closer than moments before. We were so close we were practically breathing on each other, taking turns panting little huffs of air over each other’s faces.

  And yet neither of us pulled back.

  There was a crash, effectively breaking Zhuii’s magical spell, and I shook my head, pulling back.

  Tokre had rolled to his hands and knees, giving up trying to stand, his legs still shaking, probably as noodly as mine felt, his chest and waist dripping with his recent release. More proof of his orgasm soaked the floor. He crawled closer, a turned over chair the source of the loud commotion.

  Eyeing his friend, Zhuii held up a staying hand. I was surprised when Tokre complied, though the dark-eyed, scowling male wasn’t happy about it. With a huff, my mate-husband flopped back onto his butt. Glancing down his thick frame, his lip curled and he shook his head in disgust. He seemed as mortified about this whole thing as I felt.

  When Tokre’s eyes lifted to mine, they softened, but then he frowned. The look in those fathomless depths grew turbulent—regretful, even—as they panned over me. That dark gaze stayed briefly on Zhuii before slipping away, and my giant of a beast let out a long, resigned, weary sigh.

  His face screwed up, his dark gaze unerringly finding mine again, and my beast mate made a disgruntled noise. He was waiting for something from me, a response, words he wouldn’t understand, a look, a hand wave. But I couldn’t give him what he wanted if I had no clue what it was he required, was asking of me, in the first place!

  I’d given enough already, I thought in supreme agitation. My spine stiffened, shoulders pulling back. Anything else I doled out would be of my own free will, damn it!

  As if coming to the same conclusion, Tokre’s gaze dropped. Turning away, he rolled to his feet, his hand slapping to the table to hold him up.

  “Rosie is sad now.”

  Oh, Zhu-baby, pointing out the obvious yet again. Could I not have a single feeling not advertised to everyone present, even if only the announcer and emotional-e could catch the discussion?

  “Stop sniffing me,” I muttered, catching the blue-haired hellion in the middle of the act, my face scrunching up, lips pinching prudishly.

 

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