by Selena Scott
He pursed his lips and looked down at her. “Nothing has ever been cut off my dick, if that’s what you’re asking me.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat and nodded, but her cheeks were bright red. “Right.”
He took the tip of her chin between two fingers and dragged her around to face him. “Is that a problem?”
She immediately shook her head. “No. It’s really not a problem. It’s, um, super not a problem.”
He took the temperature of her eyes and found she was telling the truth. She must be attracted to men who haven’t had the horrific procedure she’d just described. Good. Because as much as he already cared for Ida, the idea of getting part of his dick chopped off for her was not an appealing one.
He let go of her chin. “Continue,” he requested, but the words came out sounding much more like an order than a request.
She cleared her throat and pressed play on the video. Phoenix supposed that the woman in the video was attractive. She had long, light hair and a long, thin body but she looked so unlike Ida that he found himself only cursorily aroused by the sight of her. The things that were turning him on the most were not her breasts on display or her benignly pretty face, but the way the woman gripped the sheets she writhed around on, the breathy noises bursting from her lips, the way her legs fell open when her partner reared back. The woman was turned on and helpless in the face of it. And the man had made her that way.
Yeah. Phoenix liked that. Perhaps this man, despite his strange, shorn dick could teach Phoenix a thing or two.
“Start it over,” he said gruffly.
She blinked at him in surprise as her fingers hovered over the mousepad. “But we haven’t gotten to the good parts yet.”
“I want to see something.”
She did as he asked and this time, less shocked by the preliminary sight of the man’s body as he’d been before, Phoenix paid careful attention to the way the man manipulated the woman’s breasts, the way he kissed and bit her. It made the woman moan.
They eclipsed the part of the video they’d already seen and now Phoenix was watching the man kiss his way down the woman’s abdomen. That looked nice. That looked like something Phoenix would really, really want to do with Ida. Only, with Ida it would be so much better because Ida’s abdomen was soft and plush, whereas this woman’s stomach had no give to it.
All thoughts of abdomens fled Phoenix’s mind when the man, kissing his way downward, apparently reached his destination. Phoenix had expected the man to kiss the woman’s thighs. It made sense to him that if a woman liked her shoulders kissed -the way this woman obviously had- she might like to have her thighs and knees and ankles kissed as well. But the man didn’t kiss her thighs. Instead, he planted her thighs over his shoulders, laid his chest on the bed and began to kiss, rather passionately, directly between the woman’s legs.
Phoenix leaned forward to get a better look.
He didn’t have to look at Ida to know that she was brilliantly red in the cheek. He could feel the heat in the air from her blush. What was that sound? Oh. It was his own breath sawing in and out of his lungs. Holy god.
“People do this,” he muttered. It wasn’t a question. It was a realization. It was a recognition of some vague, hidden urge he’d never fully recognized before. Hadn’t he, moments earlier, wanted to swallow Ida’s panties? Wasn’t this, right here, what his body actually wanted him to do?
“Yes,” Ida whispered. “People do this. But, um, no pressure of course. I didn’t choose this clip in order to insinuate that—”
He snapped the computer closed and laid it on the bedside table.
She looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Don’t you want to keep watching the video?”
“No,” he answered tersely.
Her eyes shuttered. “It, um, grossed you out to see that?”
“No,” he said again, leaning over her. “I stopped the video because I understand what it is showing me. There’s no reason for it to be on anymore.”
“Oh. I— WOW.”
Her words abruptly cut off when Phoenix reached down and shoved her dress clear up to her collarbones. He almost got sidetracked by the sight of her breasts so lovingly cupped in a deep blue bra, but no. That was not what he’d come to do.
“I want to do that,” he told her gruffly as he slid his body down and spread her legs before him. He pinned his eyes to Ida’s. “I want to do what that man was doing in the video.”
“Um, sure,” Ida said breathlessly. “Yes, I mean. Yes, please.”
Seeing what he needed to see in her expression, he dropped his eyes from hers and took in what laid directly before him. Her soft skin in a seductive rise where her body was plushest, around her belly button, above her hips. And then the slow, almost aerodynamic dip of her belly between her hips. She was a landscape of gorgeous shadows, like looking across a rolling terrain from a great height. Phoenix got the great urge to watch the shadow from a cloud move across her skin. He made a note to self to get her naked outdoors as soon as the weather warmed up again. He wanted to see her in a bed of green, against a sky of blue, the ethereal black of a wet tree trunk framed against the copper of her hair.
The triangle of her underwear, and the strings that cut across her hips were sexy, but almost unnatural in his eyes. They allured him and kept him away from his final destination all at once. He loved and abhorred these panties. They had a time and a place, and that time had passed. Phoenix wanted nothing to obstruct him from the view of Ida’s natural body.
He pulled her panties down her legs and tossed them away, no longer tempted to eat them now that he knew he had better things to do with his mouth. In the quest to pull her underwear away, he no longer sat between her legs and she pressed her thighs together now, a blush seeping down from her cheeks to her chest. She blinked at him and gripped the sheets on either side of her.
Trepidation, he realized. Not arousal yet. She was nervous about him looking at her like this. She wanted him to like what he saw. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her, but he wouldn’t do it emptily. He planted two fists on either side of her knees and stared down at the part of her body he’d just revealed. There were two little lines on her hips where her underwear had cut in and a small, neat triangle of curls right where her thighs met.
Phoenix had felt this place on a woman before, but he’d never seen it. And now, he was grateful for that, because he didn’t want to think poorly of any of the other women who’d been kind enough to let him into their bodies, but he knew -he just knew- that none of them could have possibly compared to Ida. The curve of her waist, the tight press of her legs together, her pale skin and red hair and the rush of her blush. She was so gorgeous and exotic and special.
“You’re like a trout,” he told her.
Her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, what?”
He sensed it was the wrong thing to say, especially when her legs were pressed so tightly together still and all he wanted to do was to ease them open and see what she kept there for him. He rushed on in order to explain.
“Have you ever seen one in a clear stream, in the sunlight? They’re a hundred different colors. Beautiful. And it makes you wonder that nature could ever make something so special. So pretty. And it makes sense and doesn’t make sense at the same time. You look at the fish in the stream and think that it fits in perfectly with the rest of the forest, the squirrels, the pines, the snow in winter. But also, it almost seems like it might be a mistake, because there’s so many colors in the scales, it seems like it’s better than the rest of the world. That it doesn’t fit in. It’s too special and too beautiful to truly fit.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “That’s…” she lifted a hand and touched the side of his face. “That’s a wonderful thing to say.”
He let out a breath of relief, glad that he hadn’t offended her. He felt her move against him and when he looked down, there was a slim space between her thighs. She was no longer pressing herself away from him. He l
owered his face into the space between her legs, just above her knees and felt her soft skin on either side of his face. He heard her gasp, felt goosebumps rise. His heartbeat seemed to increase correspondingly. Every goosebump on her skin represented another frantic beat in his chest.
He could scent her and at such close range, it made him almost woozy, giddy. He planted his palms at her knees and pushed her legs apart.
And there she was.
He made a sound, very much like a wolf, and laid his cheek on her thigh, just looking at that pretty pink place between her legs. He had words, but he’d already said them. He’d never looked at a woman between her legs before, but he was certain that Ida’s place was much more beautiful than any other. It was the same feeling as before. She was, at once, so perfectly of the earth and otherworldly all at once.
On some deeply driven instinct, her scent drew him forward, his eyes pinned to her soft pink folds. His eyes stayed open as he landed his first kiss against her pussy. He wasn’t a man who dabbled in half-measures, so his mouth was open, his tongue already softly searching, exploring, tasting.
Ida gasped and immediately arched, one of her hands grabbing a hank of his hair. He ignored the bite of pain simply because he was too caught up in the experience of tasting her for the first time.
He’d never experienced anything like this before, but he knew, innately, that it was what he was supposed to be doing. She was soft and sweet and wet and warm and welcoming and alluring and forbidden and giving and trembling and taking all at once. He’d never had his head between a woman’s legs, but some deeply primal part of him recognized its rightness. This was it. This was part of who he was. This was deep in his design, part of what made him an animal on this earth. Part of what made him human.
He took long, swiping licks through her folds, stopping only when he found a little mounded place that made her tremble, say his name, clamp her thighs around his ears. His hands were everywhere at first, but settled at her hips, holding her steady as he worried at that place with the tip of his tongue, watching her for reaction. His eyes took in her grip on the sheets, her grip on her own hair. He took in the sight of her open mouth, gasping for air and saying his name over and over. On a whim, he sucked at her. Her hips retreated slightly and he gentled the suction, her hips pushed into him again and it was all he could do to keep from smiling. He was good at most things he tried, but he really, really wanted to be good at this.
“You can,” she gasped, “use your fingers too.”
He looked down at her delicate petals, she looked so soft up close, he tried to picture his blunt, rough fingers touching her there and couldn’t. Sure, he’d plunged his cock into a warm, wet woman before, but that was before he’d really known what she had between her legs, the miracle of it, the gift of it. The instinctual lust that he’d felt for those other women was totally different than this aching need to give Ida pleasure.
“Show me,” he said gruffly, lifting his hand into the air, hers to puppet and direct however she’d like.
But she didn’t use his hand to show him. Instead she took her own hand, slid it down her body, and sank two of her fingers deeply inside herself. Phoenix blinked at the place where her fingers had just disappeared. Something began to wake up and stir inside of him. That instinctual, primal lust that he’d felt in his past really, really liked the sight of something disappearing into Ida.
But it should be him.
He gripped her wrist, pulled her out, and replaced her fingers with his. Phoenix sank two fingers into her hot channel and made an almost wounded sound.
Yes.
This.
Once again, rightness stole over him. This was the person he was supposed to be touching, this was the way he was meant to touch her. He'd never been more sure of anything in his entire life.
It was strange, for just a flickering moment, that this kind of bone-deep certainty would occur for him when he was in his human form, and not when he was in his wolf form. His human form was so far from comfort for him. He shoved the thought aside, wanting nothing to distract him from losing himself in Ida.
He explored her from the inside, watching again for reactions from her. She squirmed when he walked his fingers, gasped when he stroked her. She reached down, took his wrist, and turned his hand face up. He stroked her again and her back came up off the bed. On a whim he decided to kiss her and stroke her at the same time.
He could feel her pulse against him, scent and taste her arousal. She was everything soft and trembling and aroused and flushed and begging him for something. He knew he could give it to her. He was going to give it to her.
Phoenix was dimly aware of his hips moving against the bed. His cock was painful in its want for her. Any thoughts he’d had of his lust for Ida being softer than his lust for other women were completely dead and gone. This was the sharpest arousal he’d ever experienced. Conflicted and complicated. He wanted to softly lick her until she melted into a puddle, but he also wanted to flip her over and spear himself into her, pin her beneath him. He wanted both to worship the soft petals between her legs and pound into them.
It wasn’t a riddle he was supposed to answer, he knew this. This was a feeling to revel in, not to tease apart.
So he kept at her with his mouth and fingers, her hands tugging at his hair, her body arched and shaking.
He felt her heels at his shoulder blades, her hips came up off the bed and then her body was squeezing his fingers in a rhythmic hold that made precome slide wetly down his shaft.
Suddenly, she fell delightfully limp against the bed. He instinctually gentled his touch against her, but even that seemed to be too much. Her hand was against his cheek again and she drew him up, away from what had quickly become his favorite place on earth.
She was soft and breathing hard and his face somehow landed smack in the middle of her chest. There was too much fabric there. He scrabbled and pulled at her bra until she laughed and swatted him away.
“It works like this.” She slipped her bunched up dress off her head and turned around, showing him how to work the clasp on her bra. Even after watching her do it, he had no clue how to work it himself. He scowled at it as he tossed it aside. Maybe he could convince her to go braless.
He was hot and tight and irritable and satisfied all at once. His dick felt like it was in danger of strangling to death inside his clothes. He nuzzled at Ida’s breasts and felt both soothed and more worked up. He needed to end this torture.
Normally, he might have just flipped her over and put himself out of his misery, but he was learning now how many ways there were to find pleasure with someone and some internal reservoir of curiosity was keeping him from suggesting that they fuck this tightness out of his groin.
Ida, meanwhile, was still luxuriating in her own release. She stretched her arms over her head, her body gloriously naked. “Mmmm,” she said, her eyes half closed behind her glasses. “That was wonderful. The most wonderful. I can’t believe you’ve never done that before. You’re an expert already.”
He preened at the compliment, fiddling with her nipples, sipping at them, needing something badly and not knowing how to get it.
Ida reached up and took off her glasses. “Your turn,” she said, tugging at the waistband of his pants.
His turn? He wasn’t sure what she was talking about but he liked where she was going with this. Her hands were everywhere, under his shirt, slicking under the waistband of his pants, plucking at the elastic of his underwear. She slid off the bed, taking his legs with her so that he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands and looking down at her.
Images and feelings snapped through his head but he didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know what came next. She tugged at his pants and he lifted his hips, allowing her to pull his pants and underwear down to his ankles.
He was exposed then, completely vulnerable to her. Even though he was still mostly dressed, he’d never been this naked and this close to a person. In his past life,
he’d always just fucked with his clothes almost completely in place, the woman facing away from him, her hands safely supporting her own weight.
But Ida’s hands were everywhere. Touching his hips, his lower belly, his thighs. She was careful, he noticed, not to touch his scarring. But any thoughts of his injury melted away as she knelt between his legs, her hands on his thighs and her eyes on his. His cock was bare and hard and bobbing between them. He was so ungodly hot for her, off-kilter because he didn’t know what was coming next, exposed to the intimacy of the moment. His heart was fight or flighting in his chest, his breath coming in sharp panting breaths that hurt on the way in and the way out.
That’s when both her hands moved, sliding up and circling his cock, one after the other. She was eye level with it, licking her lips and watching him for reaction. He was a solid, sustained bolt of lightning in her grip. A live wire, freeze-frame. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to get him through this moment.
Her hands on him were heaven. Nothing could be better—
And then she put her mouth on him.
Holy god-d-d-d-d. “Humans do this?”
She chuckled and pulled off of him. “Yes,” she answered the question he’d barely been aware of asking.
Putting his mouth on a woman’s pussy seemed obvious to him, once he’d seen it in the porn video. Soft and sweet perfection, who wouldn’t want to do that? But his brain hadn’t automatically skipped to the converse action. It hadn’t occurred to him that people might want to do the same thing for a man. That a mouth would go there…
“Fuck. Shit. Goddammit.” He wouldn’t normally swear this much in front of Ida, but her mouth was hot and firm and she was sucking on him. Her fist was working him as well, taking everything her mouth couldn’t. She worked her mouth down his shaft, and then there was some inner part of her that closed around him. She was swallowing him down, he realized.
“Do that again,” he demanded, begged, prayed.
She did and this time, when she came up for air, her tongue swirled around the head of him.
