Page 33 of Gyft
“Do it,” I say, in the heat of the moment, with the feel of his hard-as-steel cock plunging in and out of my slick heat. With the tingling of my clit as his tail flicks against it, with our bare skin pressed together as one.
His fangs sink in, and offer pleasure-pain, and that increased tension flings me over the edge, my orgasm exploding inside me. His hand covers my mouth, muffling my cries, his tongue soothes the sting, his body quivers over mine as pulses of wet heat fill me up inside.
He removes his hand from my mouth and collapses onto me, his arms on either side of me supporting his weight. He presses kisses to the bite mark, over and over, almost reverently.
It’s warm and sweet and just where I want to be. I love being in this spot with him. We lay in languid silence for long minutes.
“I guess we should get back to the fair,” I finally say. I turn my head, feeling a bit of soreness where he bit.
He raises his head and looks worried.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, looking at my neck, needing reassurance that we both lost control in the heat of passion and he didn’t hurt me.
“So worth the orgasm, vampy,” I assure him. Because he still looks so worried, I lean up to kiss him. “It’s okay, big guy. I loved it. I love–” I freeze, wondering if it’s okay to say. It’s early, for sure. But I know in my heart that he’s the one.
He wipes that worry right away. “I love you too, Bride. My bride.” He punctuates his speech with kisses. “My beautiful Olivia.”
I relax. “You do?”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “So much.”
“I love you, husband.” I pepper his beautiful, silvery face with kisses. “Now, we have to sneak out one by one or people are going to know what we were doing.”
He gives me a cocky grin, then looks at my fresh fang marks.
Oh. So, they’re going to know. But with a smile, I shoo him out and after waiting a few minutes, I whisper loudly to see if he’s still out there.
“Gyyyft?”
“Briiide?”
“Is the coast clear?”
“Umm... yes?”
Slowly I slide out of the back of the wagon to find him waiting with open arms.
Along with a crowd of smiling people looking at my neck and clapping, mimicking the way the children and I greeted him just this morning.
“Omigosh! Husband!” My smile feels like a snarl as I hiss through clenched teeth. “I asked you if no one was around so I could slip out quietly.”
“To be fair, you asked about a coast and I figured that meant a crowd of well-wishers.”
Sure enough, his well-muscled chest is puffed out, looking even better than usual.
“Congratulations!” calls out several voices.
“Thanks,” I mutter, cheeks burning.
Gyft huffs a laugh and with his arm raised like a champ who won round one, leads me away.
Craziest freaking planet.
As we head back through the city, stopping at the stands, picking up the supplies for the M’irshlak’s, more people smile at us, staring at my neck in a knowing way.
I don’t even mind. I feel a little proud over my alien version of a hickey.
Before we head out to pick up the twins, Gyft steers me into the building where an older man sits behind a desk. His freelig is also white, and sparse, his scales dull, but his smile intact. “Bride, this is Minstrel Nykerian K’lide, manager of the indoor mall that is used during the cold season. Rian, this is Olivia.”
