Page 8 of You Give Me Fever

Another thunderclap, closer this time, and Clara jolted, inadvertently pushing his fingers deeper inside her.

“W-whatever - do you mean? I thought you were just... cooling me off.”

Shiver couldn’t suppress a quiet laugh that mingled with a growl. Clara was a stubborn girl. Pretending she was not ill, pretending he was a dream, pretending that she didn’t want more.

“And so I am,” said Shiver. “If you let me, I can take care of you in every possible way.”

For a moment, Clara realized how pathetic she was for conjuring a fantasy of someone to talk to her and look after her. Could she really be that starved for interaction? But as soon as she felt the cool cloth pull away only to be replaced by what felt like fingers inside her instead, every other thought evaporated from her mind.

“Ohhh, little one, you do want me,” Shiver said as he felt how wet she was. “Would you look at all this sweet honey.”

“Ah-ahh—” She tilted her head back, catching a glimpse of lilac lightning shivering in the sky. “Arrogant—bastard!”

The demon smirked because, oh, he was. And the sound of a curse from her innocent lips lit a fire inside him.

“For once, we agree,” he said, using his extra tendrils to slide her panties off.

Now he was free to look at all of her—those delicious breasts, and the treasure between her legs, all laid out for him like a feast. He hardly knew where to begin.

Clara groaned softly at being undressed, but Shiver soothed her with a soft hush and opened her legs, watching every quiver in her thighs, every petal opening for him. He had promised to take care of her, and he wanted to be thorough.

He turned his gaze to her face as he stroked her opening, treasuring every gasp and hitched breath and cry hidden beneath a hand. Determined to have more of her precious cries, he slipped three fingers inside her heat and stretched them until they hit resistance.

“Oh! Oh fff-fuck,” Clara whispered. She could feel her heartbeat squeezing his fingers, picking up speed.

Shiver took a moment to register the hot slap of profanity from his sheltered little mortal. Where had she ever even heard such a word, he wondered, whom should he punish for teaching it to her, and why did he want to hear it again?

“What was that, my dear? Do I hear foul language from such a pretty mouth?”

“Sorry - ssssorry,” said Clara.

“You’re forgiven,” Shiver said, and Clara could hear his smile.

Arrogant bastard, she thought.

Shiver began to stroke her, moving his fingers in and out of her tight, sizzling heat. He leaned over her to close his lips around a breast, sucking on her nipple and circling it with his tongue.

“Oh… oh lord, ffff—” she cut herself off before she cursed again. For Clara, reality was blurring. Had the dream felt this intense the night before? She couldn’t even be certain she was dreaming anymore. Something was touching her, really touching her, and she was far too wrapped up in it to be curious about what. The fever seemed not so much to subside but to change location—she couldn’t feel the pressure in her head because all the pressure was right where she felt those fingers, beckoning within her as if encouraging that window-rattling climax to come forward and meet him again.

The storm outside was rolling in closer, but inside Clara was another type of storm, building hot and huge and fast. Shiver bit gently and sucked harder at her pretty pink nipple, just barely holding himself back from holding her down and fucking her right through the floorboards. Humans were fragile, he had to remember—he had never tried this with one of them before.

“Ahh-ah okay, y-you should... st-stop,” Clara said through clenched teeth as she felt huge waves of heat come crashing over her. She was certain she couldn’t survive this.

“Should I?” asked Shiver around a mouthful of her soft flesh, still stroking and beckoning inside her.

“No!”

Shiver laughed so low that he could actually feel the vibrations of it echoed in her body, in the mattress beneath them. A dark tendril formed and snaked its way between her slippery petals, finding her clit and closing around it in a firm but gentle pinch.

“Then hold on tightly, girl,” he said.

Clara didn’t have time to ask why, hardly even had time to grab onto the arms she could feel but barely see, before the tendril closed around her clit began to suck at her, stopping her heart for a beat.

Clara’s eyes shot open. She tried to take in a breath, but every function of her body stopped to center her attention right there, where every nerve was alive and stinging with pressure, pleasure, pain, need⁠—

The climax slapped her hard in the face, and she arched her back, calling up to the ceiling that shook and pounded with rain. It rolled and rolled over her until she dropped back, melted like butter.

“Ohhh baby,” Shiver groaned, taking his appendages away to lean over her and stroke back her damp hair. “Sweet baby. That was so pretty.”