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She eyed him, her perfect little lips being politely edible. “Are you teasing me for not getting you one?” she wondered, while her brow worried.
“Having you here is my gift,” he said, smiling at how easily he broke her down. “You look beautiful. The color of your skirt nearly matches your skin.”
She looked down. “Am I... rose pink?” she wonder-worried at him.
“You are. In some places.”
He realized he was experiencing her aroused excitement through the connection as well as storing it. She sat there, her pulse a subtle flick on the bridge between them. He shifted the anchor of the energy to his cock and slid lower in his seat, already rock hard from what he was about to do. What would his sweet Celest look like having her first orgasm right where she sat? How would she behave?
His powers considered it a threat to his existence if he didn’t learn that answer immediately and already it gathered between her legs, preparing to get every detail.
“How could you possibly know such a thing?” she asked quietly, giving him only half her gaze.
“Maybe I’m guessing.” He pushed the hot vibration of his energy between her petals.
“Oh God!” she gasped, grabbing hold of his leg then snatching her hand off like it burned her.
“Are you okay?”
He moved the energy firmly and slowly over her clit.
“I...” she panted a few times, shifting around in a panic. “Something’s... wrong with me!” She suddenly buried her face between his shoulder and the seat, panting as he mercilessly licked along her clit.
“Should we stop?” He formed a finger with the energy and worked it into her womanhood.
“Oh!” She clutched his bicep in both frantic hands.
“Tell me what to do,” he whispered.
“I can’t...” she barely whipsered, fighting to be quiet, turning her face so it pressed against his shoulder.
He raised his arm and pulled her against him, putting his mouth at her other ear as her hot breath heated his chest now. “Are you hurting?”
“No!”
“Tell me what you’re feeling so I can help you.”
“I...I can’t tell you! Oh no,” she breathed. “Oh...please,” she begged, maybe the universe, moving a hand between her legs as if to stifle it.
He turned up the heat on her clit. “Do you like it?” he whispered. “It’s a new trick I learned after I died. I wanted you to be the first to experience it.”
He withdrew all of it from her instantly, leaving her panting and on the very edge of an orgasm. Now they were twins in that divine, fiery torment. It wasn't the same kind of connection Fathom had but...it would do for the next fifteen minutes. He was sure he’d not last longer than that before he tried more of his tricks.
“You didn't give me that birthday kiss,” he reminded, like they’d agreed on one.
She sat there, winded with her skirt bound in both fists, staring toward him. “Why would you... do that?”
“Did I take it away too soon?”
“That... that’s wrong to do.”
“Do you want to punish me more than you already are?”
“I’m not punishing you,” she whispered, her chest heaving.
He stilled as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his cheek then returned to being his sweet, trembling statue, staring at her lap.
“I want one on the lips,” he dared.
