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“Oh. Oh, Darcy,” Fallon groaned, burying his fingers in my hair. “You should stop now. Or… Or…Ngh!”
My head reared back as hot, viscous fluid shot furiously into my mouth. I wiped my mouth and coughed, focusing my watering eyes with lurid fascination on the sight of Fallon’s shaft spasming and spewing more. His cock tail had come unfurled again, and was twitching and undulating. After the whole thinking-it-was-a-snake thing I was worried I’d find that part of him kind of freaky.
But, surprisingly, it wasn’t. It was just a part of my husband. And as I was growing to care for my husband at a slightly alarming rate, the fact that he had a snakey dick tentacle flapping around down there was just another thing to get used to. To maybe even like.
I gently prodded the twitching tendril, only for it to instantly seize upon my finger and squeeze.
I guessed even that small action was pleasurable, because Fallon’s dick exploded again, veins clearly visible, straining along the length of the rod as it jerked. The sac beneath bunched and released, bunched and released.
When Fallon finally seemed spent, he took a moment to just sit there breathing heavily, looking at me like I’d hung all three moons above this planet. He looked at me like he was grateful and happy and… and like he adored me. It made me feel oddly vulnerable. But not quite vulnerable enough to break eye contact, to run away.
Although I couldn’t stay there forever. I had some serious cleaning up to do. I could tell my mouth and cheek were smeared with drying semen. My hands were wet, as was a good portion of Fallon’s cock and muscled belly.
I gave him a slightly shy smile.
“How is your… um…” I jerked my chin towards his crotch.
“Better!” Fallon said instantly. But then he backtracked. “Well, not all the way better. I do think… I do think it might need another kiss treatment later.”
I barked a laugh, my feelings of vulnerability, that wriggly sensation of being exposed, vanishing. Fallon was just too… pure. Horny and pure. The strangest, most oddly delightful combination. Something warm and squishy grew in my chest, and I would have been worried my lungs were waterlogged or something from last night, only the feeling was so warm. Cozy and gooey and foreign and… nice.
Without thinking about it, without even caring about all the mess on both of us, I threw my arms around Fallon’s neck and squeezed.
His chest hitched beneath mine, and a heartbeat later his arms were at my back, hugging me like he was afraid something might rip me away. Which was to say it was tight. Like, crack a human rib, tight.
“Fallon,” I wheezed against the onslaught that was a post blow-job Fallon hug. “I can’t breathe.” Maybe this was payback for nearly ripping off part of his dick.
But Fallon immediately let go, his hands flying to the sides of my jaw.
“Why?” he demanded, his eyes star-white and boring into my face. “Is something wrong with your lungs?”
“Only that you were crushing them,” I said with a laugh, batting his hands away. I eyed the bulging curves of his biceps and forearms. “You need to keep those under control, my man.”
Fallon went utterly still apart from his nostrils flaring with a sudden intake of breath.
“What is it?” I asked, peering at him with narrowed eyes.
“I like being called your man.”
Heat flooded into my cheeks.
“Oh,” I murmured. Goddamnit, why was he so straightforward? Didn’t he know you were supposed to obscure and conceal every real thing you ever felt? Pretty sure I’d learned that by the time I was five.
“Maybe… Maybe we could to the kiss treatment again now,” he said huskily. I blinked, then looked down, only to see his big, tapered organ twitching.
“Are you getting aroused just because I called you ‘my man’?” I asked, flabbergasted. It was such a simple thing!
“Yes,” he answered gruffly. He swallowed hard, his thick neck working. “Maybe next time you could even call me ‘Husband.’” When he said that, his cock gave a throbbing spasm, clearly loving the idea.
Oh my God.
This man was literally turned on just by the idea of being married to me.
“You’re that happy?” I asked in bewilderment. “Just to be my husband?”
Who the hell would be that excited to be married?
Who the hell would be that excited to be married to me?
