Page 5 of Solivagant

He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t need to.

My throat relaxed as his long tongue pressed in further, until he filled it in ways that had me desperate for his attention elsewhere. Khorli never left me wanting.

He knew by now how to open my pants without tearing them. One hand worked with his tail to get them down my thighs and expose me to the cool night air.

I moaned as his tail wrapped around my length, hard and eager for his touch. His tongue pressed further, until my throat constricted in a gag around it, and still he didn’t stop.

The rumble of his purr grew louder, rippling through his chest and into me. My moans around his tongue increased in response.

Pleasure and urgency built and built, until I felt the very wet and incredibly hot sensation of his length against my backside.

The first time I’d seen that part of Khorli, I’d been entirely intimidated. By now I’d seen it many times, yet the sheer size and shape of him were no less threatening, even if it was also incredibly arousing.

I adjusted my hips, seeking more of him. Khorli chuckled, his long tongue withdrawing to allow me desperate gasps of air.

Then he was moving me, strong arms rotating me with ease into a position I knew well. One that I loved and craved. My hands met river stones, then my knees. Khorli’s tail continued pumping my length as he gripped my hips and his own slotted between my thighs, thicker and longer than my forearm.

His body produced so much lubrication of its own. He’d definitely need it to penetrate a partner.

“I want it inside me,” I begged, as I’d begged him countless times before.

“You would not survive,” he chuckled. The same response he gave every time I’d pleaded for it.

One day, I’d certainly convince him.

Then he started to thrust. I closed my legs tight, so my thighs squeezed the thick bulbs along the base of his length, and his purrs grew louder in response.

I shivered as the tip of his tongue traced the shell of my ear. His tail worked me faster. I wouldn’t last long. I never could under his touch.

“Kho-Khorli,” I whined.

“My Jem,” he growled.

Faster. Harder. Then I was exploding pleasure onto the river stones. I panted as the waves of bliss echoed over my body.

Then I was weightless. Khorli lifted me with a large hand over my chest and his other holding my legs together as he moved me the way he needed, rapidly bouncing my body over his length in a speed that really might have killed me if that thing had been inside me. I still wanted it. Even as those large bulbs swelled and swelled and the barbs along his length emerged to lock him into a body he refused to damage with them.

His release glowed like the flowers on his horns, lilac silver and as beautiful as the rest of him. I groaned as it coated me in ropes.

“Tiscar Bul Thanor,” I panted. The one phrase I’d been determined to learn in his language.

“I love you too, my Jem.”

4

JEREMIAH

We bathed in the creek. Khorli’s heat countered the frigid waters. His arms held me safe and secure as he washed me.

“Your hair is getting longer,” he said, running his fingers through shaggy blond strands. He always had such a fascination with my hair.

“Do you like it?”

He nodded. “Long hair is very important to my people. But I like you just the way you are.”

“I’ll grow it longer, then.” I decided.

“You are perfect the way you are, my Jem.”