Page 141 of The Knucker King

“No!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls. He tilted his head in question. “What I mean is, I am sure. I am just a little nervous.”

Her Knucker ran his tongue up her breast, inked collar bone, neck, and brushed against her ear. “Of course, take your time.”

Avice quivered from his caress and beamed up at him. She took a deep breath and sat on the lush carpet of flowers. They tickled her rear, but were oh-so-soft against her skin, even more comfortable than the furs on her pallet. She was hot – too hot – as she lay back on them, her knees still pressed tightly together. She pulled up the bravery from deep down inside of her, opened her thighs to Trewoofe, and showed him everything.

He was silent.

Only the sound of his pants, thrusting, and the distant crash of waves reached her ears. She gripped the flowers, waiting for him to say something, anything. Tears welled in her eyes, and just as she was about to snap her legs closed, he spoke.

“You are just as beautiful in between your legs as everywhere else,” he purred, his hot breath on her centre, making her tremble.

Avice blushed from his praise – the words made her tingle – and she pushed herself up on her elbows. She giggled at the sight of him peering down his muzzle at her, nearly going cross-eyed from his inspection.

Trewoofe’s gaze flicked up from her centre to her face, and then down again. “I did not know you had a flower there. There is even a bud.” He snuffed at her. “You smell delicious.”

More arousal seeped from her. She was well and truly soaked, her dark curls damp with her sticky excitement. Trewoofe had inadvertently discovered more words that brought her pleasure, and the result was her squirming towards him. Avice blushed at her own boldness. She could not believe she was so wantonly presenting herself to her Knucker in a cave by the sea.

Before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. “My King, I have an offering for you,” she teased.

“I like it…” He tickled his tongue on her ankle. He slid it up the new pearlescent scar on her leg before slipping it back into this mouth. “…when you call me that.”

Trewoofe pulled himself further up, talons cracking into the cave wall, so he loomed high above her. She laid flat on her back so she could stare up at him. He was like an ancient god above her, his horns holding up the sky while his fiery eyes warmed the earth.

The Well King began.

His long tongue reached down as he watched her. He trailed the forks down her cheek and throat, making her prickle with anticipation. He left a trail of his healing saliva in his wake, making her skin sing. Avice watched him rock back and forth. He must have been thrusting his cock as he explored her. The thought of it made her fingers curl into the flowers. The idea that she had that impact on him flushed her with power again.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered to him in the dark. “Pleasuring yourself while you lick me?”

Trewoofe growled low in his chest, unable to reply as his tongue was otherwise occupied. He dipped to the back of her neck, tracing the tattooed whorls at her nape, and followed the trail of inked leaves on her collar bones. Avice had not known she could feel so sensitive everywhere as he soaked her with his saliva. Each lap added to the pleasure thrumming within her, mounting with each movement of his tongue. He dipped down into her cleavage, fiddling with her pendant and key, making them chime together in a honeyed note.

He snapped his tongue back and thrusted into the flowers as he stared down at her. Just as Avice was about to protest his retreat, he opened his mouth with more words to excite her.

“Never take that off,” Trewoofe panted, his body writhing as he pleasured himself to her image.

She held up the key. “What, this?” she teased.

“No,” he growled playfully, brushing his tongue over her pendant. “This. It is the first of many gifts I will give you.”

Trewoofe explored her breasts next – he seemed very preoccupied with them – bouncing and rolling them with his tongue, sending delicious twitches of pleasure through her as she murmured his name. He lavished each nipple with a prehensile fork, tweaking and exploring until Avice let out a wanton whimper and rolled her hips. His attentions had set a deep ache between her legs. Her centre was throbbing and she craved his touch.

“Lord,” she moaned. “Please, I need it here.”

She spread her thighs further and bucked up, showing him where she wanted him. Trewoofe was still rocking – he had not stopped in all the time he had ravished her – and he let out a loud rumble. He slowly slid off her breasts, licked the iridescent scar on her arm, lapped his way down her soft belly, and smeared her with his saliva. He teased a hip, then another, as she bucked and whined again. Avice gripped the flowers in frustration, she needed the friction, and she needed it now. She wanted it so badly it hurt.

“My King, please.”

He purred in approval and finally played with the soft black curls that sheltered her centre, making her pant as he brushed them with his tongue. She gasped and thrusted up as the edge of a fork flicked against her pearl.

Bud, she corrected herself. He called it a bud; I like that name more.

Avice would be lying to herself if his comparisons of her body to flowers did not appeal to her. The local blooms were beautiful, wild, and simply what they were. They were what Avice aspired to be. If her Knucker wanted to call what was between her legs a flower, she was more than happy with that.

“Yes! There!” she gasped as he lapped again.

Trewoofe was fully at her centre now. The very tips of his forks nuzzled and rolled her swollen bud. She was throbbing and oh-so-sensitive as he slowly explored the upper part of her ‘flower’. Delicious pressure built at her centre at his languid pace, achingly sweet and slow. It mounted as he tugged her up to the precipice of orgasm. The moment a fork dipped to tease her entrance, while the other still massaged her bud, Avice fell.

She saw stars; she really did.