Page 13 of January Bell

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she says, her mouth around the cock I prepared for her.

“Delicious,” I say. “This human sauce really tastes delicious.”

“Yeah, they call it finger-licking good, but let’s not call it human sauce, because that sounds fucked up,” she says cheerfully, then pops her finger into her mouth, sucking the remnants of sauce and spices off. I catch the slightest glimpse of a light pink tongue on the flesh of her finger before her eyes widen again and she looks guiltily at me.

I throb with need for her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says sharply.

“I’m simply looking at you. I am not sure if there is another way I can look at you.”

“You’re looking at me like you’re thinking about me without my clothes on,” she says, pointing a piece of cock at me.

“Of course I am thinking about you without your clothes on.” The words surprise me. I certainly did not mean to say them. “I’m always thinking about you without your clothes on.”

We stare at each other for a long minute, the smell of her heat mingling with the delicious smokey scent of our meal, and I don’t think I’ve ever smelled something as tantalizing as this female sitting across from me.

“Please don’t say things like that out loud.” She sighs. “It makes me wet.”

I groan. “Why are you teasing me like this?” I adjust myself. “You said you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you tell me about how wet your pussy is for me?"

She stares at me through narrowed eyes, and I sigh. "You are a cruel female, and I find that it only makes me like you more, makes me need you more.”

“Maybe we should just eat,” she says, squirming uncomfortably.

Unfortunately, now all I can think about is tasting her, spreading her legs wide, kneeling before her. Licking my tongue slowly up the apex of her sex.

“I should very much like to eat something here,” I tell her, and I mean it.

“Good,” she says, motioning to my plate. “Please, please do that.”

“I should like to eat you. Your pussy.”

My tail thumps behind me on the ground, my wings pulling in tight as the uncomfortableness of what I’ve just admitted has blurted straight out of me.

Lily gives me a shocked look that really shouldn’t get me as hard as it does.

“Just eat your damn food,” she says, sighing in exasperation.

I swallow, watching as her gaze follows the movement of my throat, leaving me bare and wanting in its wake.

Doing as she says, though, I force myself to eat more of the meat, mopping it up with the sauce she’s so fond of. We eat in silence for a long time until she finally has eaten her fill and rubs her stomach. She gives a low moan of satisfaction, and I tear my gaze away from the food I’ve concentrated so hard on eating so I don’t make a fool of myself and stare at her.

“You cannot make sounds like that if you want me to remain quiet,” I tell her completely honestly.

“Maybe I don’t want you to remain quiet anymore,” she says, squirming slightly on the bench. “I feel full of want in a way that I never have before.” There’s a whining edge to her voice that slices through my awareness like a knife. I want her.

“I want you to say my name like that,” I tell her. “But you don’t like me. You don’t want me to touch you.”

“I do want you to touch me,” she says. “But you’re right, I don’t like you. At least I didn’t think I liked you. And then you came back for me and I was scared. And then you made me food and you were kind to me. And the way that you annoyed me so badly, twenty-four seven with your horrible singing and your annoyingness and all of your preening and asking me to get it laid, all of that went away when I was in danger, and now you’re looking at me like that and—oh.” Her eyes grow huge and we stare at each other.

“Something was in that food,” she says, pushing her plate away. “I never would have said that out loud, ever.” Lily shakes her head, her matted hair swinging slightly around her chin.

“You can’t simply admit that perhaps we are better together than we were apart?” I ask her, the sting of her words doing nothing to lessen my need for her.

She snorts, crossing her arms over her chest, which only serves to press her breasts up and together in a way that leaves my mouth dry.

“Of course I can admit that we are better together. There was no way I could have survived the so-called cock encounter from hell without your help, and I was absolutely too tired and sore to cook for us. So yeah, I can admit that we’re better together, but I can also admit that you’ve been driving me crazy for days on end, and I don’t mean in a fun way.”