The Cambion's Hoard

Thatcher licked, sucked, and fucked me until I saw stars. His tongue felt impossibly large as he moved it in and out of my body. Then, he rippled it against me again, and I whimpered.

He pushed me up. “Let it out, Rose.”

I reached down and grabbed his hair. “Did I say you could stop?”

His eyes held unrestrained wickedness. “No.”

He squeezed my hips. “Can I make a request?”

I pulled on his hair again. “Yes.”

“Could you ride my face like you’d ride my cock? Licking you isn’t enough. I need to know you like it.” He pulled me back, and I could feel the tip of his tongue move from opening to clit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I rolled my hips, and he pulled tighter. Grabbing his hair, solicited the reaction I wanted. He pushed his tongue inside of me, and I felt full. Grinding against him and that tongue felt so good.

“Thatch...” My orgasm rippled through me. The muscles in my cervix contracted around Thatcher.

He grabbed my thighs, and his talons dug in, and I didn’t fucking care. Thatcher pressed harder, and I cried out. I swore that the headboard cracked under my grip.

Thatcher’s movements slowed, and I lifted, so I didn’t suffocate him. He wiggled from beneath me and sat beside me.

“Are you ok?” Thatcher placed a hand against my lower back.

I took a gulp of air. “Hmmm, yeah, I’m great.”

“You’re crying.”

I wiped tears away. “I didn’t realize I was.”

He nuzzled my arm and laid a kiss on my bicep. “Have you ever orgasmed like that?”

I pursed my lips together. “No.”

Thatcher rubbed my back. “Well, I’m glad I did a half shift.”

“Why?” I looked at him.

He smiled and stuck his tongue out. I hadn’t imagined the size.

“I don’t know if I’ll let you do it any other way.” I turned and sat next to him.

Thatcher pulled me tightly against him and kissed my temple. “If you are going to grind like that every time, I’ll have to.”

I hugged him. “You did ask so nicely.”

“Hmm, you make it hard not to.” He repositioned us to spooning.

I wiggled closer to him, and he wrapped himself around me. He nuzzled the back of my head and sighed contentedly.

“Do you want me to leave? They’re going to know now.”

His scales were warm beneath my arms. I squeezed his. “We’ll deal with that next time we’re all in the same room. But, for now, I want to lay here with you.”

He squeezed me again and settled behind me. I closed my eyes and listened to his breathing. Thatcher made me believe that mates were everything I’d never been told.