Page 99 of Florescentia

Altair raised his chin, fists gripping the dry grass by his side.

“Mmm.” A gentle moan as I dragged my hips across the bulge; there was a twitch. “It hurts, you know.”

The words made him flinch. Suddenly, his eyes were searching physically.

“In here”—I pulled his hand and placed it flat on my chest, then down between my breasts—“when you say such cruel things, or lie to me.”

“I told you—”

“Your body is more honest than your words.” I leaned in by his ear, pressing my body closer. “At least your touches are more gentle with my heart, or are those selfish and dishonest too?”

His face was hot, the heat radiating from him.

My hand moved to the side of his neck, and I brushed my lips against the curve of his ear.

“Wait,” he mumbled, “this isn’t fair.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I urged my hips on his, posting a steady rhythm as if he were a smooth seat on a gaited horse.

His hands moved to my waist, holding me as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push me off or see it through. If he stopped me now, he would know I’d won. He was too stubborn for that.

“Altair,” I sighed into his ear. “Altair, please . . .”

His cock was hard, tenting his pants enough where I could feel it take a confident shape. I wondered how he’d be as a man, rather than a beast. I doubted he was confident enough to keep shape like that for the time it would take to finish me.

“Didn’t you like it?” I asked him.

His eyes fluttered open, glaring up at me like I was breaking his focus.

“Playing with me as if I were some delicate meal,” I teased, touching my forehead to his, “to devour me like you wanted to? Completely at your mercy . . . staking your claim firmly inside.”

He shuddered, then his eyes closed again.

I slapped his face and grabbed it with my other hand. “Open your eyes.”

He obeyed, terror flashing in his gaze.

“Good boy,” I purred against his lips, my nails dug into his jaw.

He groaned.

Such sweet sounds just for me.

“Don’t be shy,” I gasped mockingly, my fingers digging deeper into his face, “give me a good whimper.”

His eyes melted into a daze, but his body shook. The rigidness made it clear he was trying so very hard to stay composed. Not if I could help it.

He swallowed. A gasping noise came from him as he struggled. So determined to prove me wrong. Perhaps I needed to take this direction more often when I needed him to be useful.

“Someone could see us,” I whimpered, but I sat down harder on his throbbing cock. “I bet they’d imagine being you. Imagine being inside such a warm, inviting cunt—”

A small vocalization. It was almost soft enough to miss.

His body tension suddenly released, his eyes squeezing shut.

Blood dripped from his lip. He’d been biting it.

“Oh!” My voice lowered, my hand let go of his face to wipe his lip with my thumb. The blood mixed with what could have even been a tear running from his frightened eyes. “It seems you are thoroughly, utterly afflicted, my dear Beast.” I smirked, licking my proof of victory from my finger.