Shaking her head and biting her lip, I sense that she is shy in responding to this news about her blood pressure. “It’s a normal reaction to…arousal.”
“Then I am delighted. Shall we begin kissing?”
Her eyes grow wide, and once again, I think I have said the wrong thing.
But no, that’s not what has happened. She rests her small hands on my chest and looks into my eyes with a plea in her expression. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and the sight of that pink tongue makes my wand inside my kilt strain to make contact with it.
Gently I press my lips to Clara’s.
Her kiss is so much better now that she’s not resisting. I’ve stared at her glossy lips all day and craved their softness. Her full lips fit against mine, and they are sweet like candy. She feels and tastes like plump fruit. I’m suddenly aware that the kissing is not just to service a woman’s readiness, but it also spikes my need for her. I have been reading the wrong books. Everything leading up to the mating is just as enjoyable for me as it is for her. The feeding, the talking, the laughing, the snuggling, and the kissing. I love all of it. I love all of Clara.
The dance of our lips heightens my awareness of her hands which palm my chest and run over my shoulders and down my arms, making me feel wanted and savored.
Her eyes open when she feels the nudge of my straining cock.
Her cheeks flush. Her nostrils flare.
I want to be closer, and I need to make her wetter.
I shift my queen, so her luscious thighs straddle my hips; she gasps in surprise at my effortless movements.
“You will have to get used to my easy manipulations.” I don’t want to brag out loud, as I’m beginning to understand humans don’t like that. But it’s true. In addition to being bigger and stronger, we elves are supernaturally grace
ful. I could just as quickly bend her over and take her from behind without breaking a sweat.
For now, I’m happy to have my queen wrapped around me and her lips exploring my lips. This way, I can feel and smell her heat and her dampness. I don’t know how she would react if she knew that, so I keep it to myself.
I run my hands over her backside and squeeze. Clara gasps, then fixes her arms around my neck, dragging her warm pussy over my bulge.
“Oh gods,” I rasp at this teasing friction.
Cramming my hands down the waistband of her long underwear, I slide over her juicy rump and reach down her split, the fingers of both hands landing between her folds.
Clara gasps and jerks her lips away from mine, eyes wide in surprise. “El,” she whispers.
I begin to move my fingers through her wetness, pulling her folds apart. My mouth nips her neck. “Yes, my queen.”
It pleases me to feel her essence drip down my fingers when I call her “my queen.”
The whimpering from her drives me dangerously close to climax. I kiss her again, and I feel her tongue swipe against my lip. It’s a curious, erotic sensation.
I am overcome by all the things she’s doing to my body. I had not been prepared to feel this good. “My love. Now is the time to tell you I have fantasized about this moment, but I am overwhelmed by how sweet this is. I have spent myself in my bed thinking about you, missing you. My imaginings are very powerful, but I had no idea. But I have to tell you….”
As I ramble on, Clara’s sweetness soaks my hands. Her lips brush lightly against mine, and the feeling is so sweet that it triggers that feeling of attachment she explained to me before. I only sensed jealousy, lust, and obsession before she was in my arms; now, I don’t know if I can ever stop touching her. I never want to leave her side.
She wiggles, nestling in closer, rubbing the front of her pussy against my cock. My gods, the throbbing ache to be inside her is overwhelming. I am dangerously close to climaxing.
My sweet Clara whispers, “You look like you need to tell me something, El. Don’t be shy. Remember, it’s my first time, too.”
This feeling of trust has triggered so many emotions, I don’t know how to sort through them. I believe she speaks the truth. “My seed is going to be wasted before I’ve pleased you,” I tell her.
Slowly, a look of understanding comes across her face.
“Oh, El. That’s okay,” she breathes, again killing me with her radiant smile. “We’ve got so much time to make the half-elf babies.”
My whole being is flooded with relief and joy. I am not used to this attitude; our culture places so much value on efficiency that any wasted spend is frowned upon. “How do I love you more than I did one minute ago, Clara?”
Her big, hazel eyes go hooded, and she leans back away from me, pulling her sweater off over her head.