Page 15

He stills my hips, and I whimper, desperate with the need to come. His fingers, sharpened claws at the end, brush gently over my mouth. They travel down and then pull at my shirt. Right. I should get undressed. I stand and quickly shed my clothes, until all that’s left is my underwear. But then my eyes get caught on him. He’s leaning back on his hands, watching me with a smile on his face.

He mutters something, and just by the tone of his voice, I can tell he likes my body. Smiling back at him, I reach up and play with my nipples. I’m so turned on, I can’t even stop my hips from bucking when we’re not touching each other.

“I need you to fuck me so bad, Fitz.” I shove my underwear off and fall to my knees beside him. “Oh God, please tell me you have a dick.”

Slowly, feeling unsure how to navigate this without being able to ask for help, I reach forward and settle my hand over the spot between his legs where a human dick would be. There’s nothing there but fur. Nevertheless, Fitz still moans.

My eyes shoot up to him. “Help me,” I whisper.

He seems to understand my plea. Taking my hand in his, he buries it deeper into the fur at his pelvis, and I’m surprised by how far my fingers sink. Until I realize they’re dipping into something, something like another layer of skin, and then they wrap around something very hard and very penis-shaped.

Fitz throws his head back and lets out a shaky breath. Deciding that he’s given me the opportunity to explore, I push some of his fur out of the way and find that he has a pocket of sorts, that his dick has just been tucked away this whole time. Very carefully, I help it out of its compartment and then just stare at it in my hand.

I’ve never really thought of penises as beautiful, but Fitz’s is gorgeous. Ultra red at the tip and wine-colored as it moves down the shaft, it’s not only breathtakingly big, but just like his tail, it has ridges, four straight lines of bumps that start at the tip and go all the way down to the base. The whole thing is curved upward, like a banana.

My mouth is watering, and without a second thought, I bend over and take it into my mouth. Fitz lets out a strangled noise that makes me even wetter. I want to devour him, cock and all. Sliding my mouth up to the tip, I take a moment to catch Fitz’s eye, to make sure he’s watching as I tap the bulbous head of his cock against my tongue and then swallow him down again.

I can’t stop my hand from going between my legs. I thought I understood my own sexuality, but in the last forty-eight hours, everything I knew about myself has changed.

Reaching down with my other hand, I find the sac under his shaft, humming in my throat as I caress it. I’m not sure I’ve ever had this much fun blowing someone before. And when Fitz’s hands find their way into my hair, fisting into the strands and holding me still so he can thrust into my mouth, I come, rubbing my clit hard and closing my eyes to focus on him using my mouth.

And then he’s coming too, squirting a surprising amount of cum down my throat, and I hold on and let him, swallowing him down like he’s the most delicious cream filling I’ve ever tasted.

I expect him to slump back, maybe take a nap, preparing myself to have to wait to be fucked by him until he’s recovered. But Fitz doesn’t even hesitate. As soon I take my mouth off him, he lifts me up, settling me in his lap, his still hard cock between our bellies.

He says something breathlessly in his own language, and I just smile. I’m just going to assume it’s something along the lines of, thank you for sucking my soul out of me.

“You gonna fuck me, big boy?”

A devious grin spreads across his face, and I know he’s reading my tone just as much as I’m reading his. Lifting me effortlessly, he slowly lowers me on his cock, and I swear I see God. Each one of his ridges bumps along inside me, right over my G spot, until I start to think I might come just from the penetration, just from being filled and rubbed and it’s gooooooood.

Except then it starts to be too much. I put my hands on Fitz’s wrists, making him stop. “Oh God,” I say. “I don’t think I can. It’s so big, and there’s no more room left.” I glance down between us, perturbed to find that he’s only managed to fit half of that giant cock inside me.

“Fitz,” I whisper, trying to relax around him, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered. He simply lifts me up and lowers me again and then again, only lowering me down halfway every time. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s not all the way inside me, although I know he does. But he’s enjoying it either way, and I am too. I’m so full of cock, I feel like I’ll split, and it’s everything I ever wanted.

I hold on tight to Fitz’s shoulders, relishing the way he’s using me like a sex toy. I want him to use me to find his pleasure. I want him to feel as good as I do.

“Grace.” Hearing my name come out of his mouth makes me gasp, sending my pleasure higher. Slamming my mouth down on his, I reach between us to rub my clit as he fucks me.

My pussy starts to clench around him, and I see the way his face shifts. He can feel it, and from the look he’s wearing, I’m guessing it feels good.

“That’s it,” I tell him as I start to go over the edge. “Fill me up, baby.”

Like he knows exactly what I’ve said, he pushes me down on his cock as far as I can go, and when I feel the first spurt of his cum inside me, my own orgasm slams right into me. We’re both moaning and shouting and kissing each other.

And then, like I thought he would before, Fitz falls onto his back, taking me with him. I sleepily settle on his chest, listening to the sound of his rapid heartbeat against my ear. He’s muttering quiet nothings. He runs his fingers through my hair and says, very quietly, “Grace,” followed by a word I don’t understand. I don’t have the energy to get up and check the book, but that’s okay. It doesn’t matter right now.

10

Sometime late in the night, Fitz and I are sitting beside the fire, curled around each other, when I show him the card that Professor Watts gave me. I try to explain to him that he shouldn’t stay here, that he's in danger.

Fitz grunts out a few sentences, and I look up a word here and there, night, run, now. I look up at him and nod.

“Fly?” he asks.

I shake my head no, and his shoulders slump. I reach over and stroke the spot where his wing is still wrapped. He waves me off. He takes the dictionary from me and flips through until he finds what he's looking for. “Not hurt,” he says, and I smile.

“Still,” I say, “they'll come for us. They'll shoot you out of the sky like a bird.” He seems to understand at least my tone.