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Odai’s tongue isn’t forked now, but I wonder what it would feel like if it was, wrapping around mine the way it wrapped around my cock and balls and slid inside me. He pulls me tight against him with a powerful tug, showing immense strength that makes me melt in his hold. He is so big and strong and gorgeous.
One arm hooks around my waist, the other lifts up the front of my skirt and shoves down inside my bloomers to take hold of me, twirling some of my prerelease around his fingers. He pulls his hand free before giving a full stroke and looks me in the eyes while he licks the fluid from them.
Fuck. I am going to come in my bloomers. I start to rut against his leg, like a desperate dog in heat, seeking any friction I can find.
“Do you wish for more, Jeffrey?” Odai asks in his sexy rumble. “More than just me having a taste?”
“Y-yes.” My voice cracks again. “Please. I wish that.”
His hand returns beneath my skirt, and he yanks the bloomers down. I feel the air as I bob out from beneath my bustle. Odai takes hold of me more firmly, gathering more wetness from my slit, but then moves his hand to my backside and rubs the prerelease between my cheeks.
My knees quake. His other arm still has hold of me around my waist, so I don’t have to worry about toppling.
“You like having a skirt on for this, don’t you?” Odai asks.
“It does offer easier access.” I chuckle, moaning and shuddering soon after, when his pointer finger brushes over my pucker. I rut against his leg again, and now that it’s my bare cock against his harem pants, I want to feel skin. Although the roughness of the raw-feeling fabric is nice too.
“It is easier, isn’t it?” Odai says. “Here…”
He turns me to face forward and lifts the back of my skirt. He tugs me against him with the same strength as when he kissed me, only now I can feel the line of his cock against my slick hole, even through his pants. He holds me there and reaches both hands around up under the front of my skirt. One fondles the heavy weight of my sac, the other strokes my shaft and teases over my slit.
The same thought as last night spills from my lips.
“I wish I could see myself like this.”
“Granted,” Odai says.
A mirror appears on the wall in front of us, covering the incubus hole, while the incubus behind me prods at my eager hole. I look… spectacular like this. The sheen of fresh sweat, the extra fullness to my hair from Odai massaging my roots, the fade of my makeup after hours performing, it’s perfect.
But not as perfect as seeing Odai behind me, while the top of my dress shifts low enough for both nipples to be visible. Then he lifts the front of my skirt so I can see him fondling me under it.
Oh god. I want to watch him fuck me this way too.
A filtering of laughter reaches my ears, and I tense. The tour. There are still people down here from the tour, in the gift shop, and Cas could come back here, or someone could hear us at any moment! Whimpers I can barely bite back keep escaping me.
“I-I-I… wish…”
“Yes, Jeffrey?” Odai breathes on my neck, meeting my eyes in the mirror with a flash of glowing purple.
“For no one to hear us or come looking.”
“Granted. But then we must be swift, for Casandra’s nature means she will worry and come looking anyway if we take too long.”
Odai is on his knees in front of me so suddenly, I teeter, but he keeps a firm hold of me. He sucks me down his throat like last night, but as incredible as the view is looking down at him, it’s just as mesmerizing when I look up. I hold his head, tangle my fingers in his hair, and almost wish I had his horns to grip as I watch myself fuck his face and can’t take my eyes off me.
It’s when one of Odai’s hands reaches up and finds the peak of a nipple, flicking it to fuller hardness, that I come, hard, and even though I shouldn’t be heard, I clench my teeth to keep from moaning too loud. Odai catches me when my knees fail and keeps me upright, while licking me clean—but not only around my shaft. His tongue becomes its slit self, and I feel its length flick back beneath my balls and lick the wetness from my hole.
I wish—ha, I almost say it aloud, but we don’t have time—that he’d spilled inside me and was licking that instead.
“You see now? You are a cleric of desire, beautiful one,” Odai says, and any obvious fork to his tongue or glow to his eyes are gone. I feel like I must be a mess, no matter how hot I look in the mirror behind him, before he blocks the view by standing. He straightens my costume and lifts my bloomers.
“Th-thank you?” I have to laugh because this is still too good to be true. It has to be, doesn’t it? “Oh, and it’s just Cas. Don’t call her Casandra.”
“Oh?” Odai tilts his head. I love when he does that, like a big puppy. “I assumed it was short for the long form Casandra, which is such a beautiful name.”
“It is, and I don’t think she doesn’t agree it’s a nice name, it’s just… not her.”
“A person’s name is sacred,” Odai says, wiping the sweat from my brow and re-fluffing my hair back over one shoulder. “To be granted leave to call someone something that is only yours between the two of you is also sacred.”
