“Here.” He takes my hand and boldly places it on his cock. It’s absolutely beautiful, curved upward, thickly veined and a darker green than the rest of his skin.
He tosses his head back and groans, leaving me with the broad expanse of neck to see. A male throat has never looked so sexy.
I reach for the soap and start lathering my hands, then rub them up and down his slippery cock. It’s stiff and full in my hand and slowly I stroke it.
“You’ll make me come,” he warns.
“I can’t wait.”
I tighten my grip and enjoy the grunts that come from his throat. He covers my hand with his and we work it together. And nothing…nothingbeats the image of when he begins the slow, uncontrollable dance of thrusting his hips.
When he groans my name, I step forward to make sure he shoots his thick ropes of cum onto my belly. He stares entranced at the sight, then reaches out and rubs it into my skin like he’s marking me. Then he leans forward and kisses me.
“Ahh, Negan. My Negan,” he says. “Let me make you come too? On my fingers.”
Desire snakes through my lower body. Yes, I want that. I really, really want that. He reaches up for the rope and douses us both, the warm water washing away the soap. Then he leans down, hunching in toward me, and cups my pussy.
“One day soon, I’m going to eat this cunt,” he growls into my ear. “Will bring you so much pleasure you’ll scream my name.”
Afterward, he wraps me in the thick robe and we make our way back to the room to dress. He gathers both our bags and we head out to Aunt Rosemary’s.
She’s sitting with Uncle Paul on the front porch as we approach, but quickly stands. “Good morning, my precious,” she says, as she kisses my cheek. “Varguk, how are you feeling today?”
He looks startled to be asked.
“Fine.”
“He’s a little sore,” I counter. “Wicked slash across his lower belly.”
“Just looks a fright because your males can’t stitch,” he counters.
Aunt Rosemary grins. “My Abigail left you a poultice to sleep with tonight. And a tincture she says will ease the pain.”
“A smart little witch, that one,” Uncle Paul says, then waves his hand toward the house. “Go on in. Get comfortable with the place. We want Varguk to know where everything is. Oh, and the wagon is ready. The Blackheart king came by early this morning and put a mattress and bedding inside.”
I wink at Var. “Wants to make sure you’re comfy.”
He snorts.
Mayhap our king makes a valiant effort to keep the male from my bed, probably at my father’s request.
“We’ll put the poultice on now,” I decide. “Under your clothing. I can give you a stretchy material—a band—to keep it in place.”
Uncle Paul snickers. “A bra.”
“What?” Var scowls.
“No one will know.” I soothe his ruffled feathers and take him by the hand, grabbing the basket off the table with my other.
Uncle Paul guffaws behind me. “I will know.”
“Don’t listen to him. He wears Aunt Rosemary’s panties.”
My aunt’s tinkling laughter rings out as Var looks much more mellow. But as soon as we climb the stairs to my bedroom, he whispers, “I’d prefer the panties. Will keep them in my pocket.”
“Then be good and wear the poultice. No need for you to suffer. It will numb the area and help it heal faster.”
He lays out on the bed, pulling his sleeveless tunic up over his head. His wound is cleaned, but still looks sore, probably from me striking him there yesterday. Carefully I sprinkle water on the poultice to activate it, and lay it gently over the wound. I tape the edges down andthen work one of my bands up his legs, figuring it would be easier to get over his hips than his massively broad shoulders. Though, his bulky thigh muscles are nothing to sneeze at. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t stretch the band within an inch of its life.
