Black Briar by Sophie Avett Page A

twin waves of muscle and silver ribbed flesh, his hair an inky ocean beneath his head. It was her turn to kneel in awe of the majesty. Hairless from his temple down, ears pointed and elfish, and those bottomless black eyes. God, he was so beautiful.
     
    She traced her fingertips across the smooth leather inner veins of his wings as she melted down, crouched near the end of the bed, elbows supporting her weight between his inner thighs.
     
    No eyebrows, but his corrugator muscle pulled and lifted with surprise. “What—”
     
    She didn’t let him finish the question and plunged her hot open mouth down his cock. Skin was cool and warm at the same time, velveteen smooth flesh pulled tight over supple marble. The liquid leaking from the slit at the top had a faint salty taste akin to copper. Bitter and metallurgic, almost like blood. Addictive.
     
    It was thick, long.   She couldn’t take it all in her mouth at the same time. And it frustrating. All she wanted was more. Sybille lost herself, her inner cheek walls soft and salivating for him. She pistoned her mouth up and down, pausing to swirl her tongue against the vein running along the underside of his cock. Popping, soft, and sweet sucking noises saturating the quiet. She sank a little lower onto the mattress, face low and ass up as she reached between her legs with trembling fingers and pressed the tip against her slick bud. Fever running wild. Her pussy aching, jealous of the attention.
     
    It didn’t seem to have much of an effect on him. He’d eased up on his elbows to watch with sharp roving eyes, but he didn’t make a sound. His hips and pelvis still and calm, the water’s surface beneath her balmy hand. Like he would never concede to getting on the floor and doing it dirty with her. Like he was above it. Beyond pleasure. Beyond her reach.
     
    Heat blistered her cheeks and ears and she slurped hideously as he tried to pull her mouth off him. His cock slipped from her swollen, numbing lips with a pop and his clawed fingers sought her hair, knotting in the gold briar tendrils, holding her still. “Have you changed your mind?” His whisper was rough, quiet. “Am I insufficient?”
     
    She found herself gazing at his mouth. “Why do you ask that?”
     
    “I am unwanted,” he said simply and touched her lips with claws still tangled in her hair. It tickled. “You can leave tomorrow, if you want.” His black eyes devoured the sight of her pale neck. “In the morning,” soft words laden with such raw sadness and understanding. “Stay tonight.”
     
    Even if that had been her problem, how dare he think it was okay? How dare he think it was okay if she didn’t love him? He wasn’t allowed to love her enough for both of them. That wasn’t allowed to be enough for him. Better yet, after such a declaration, it really shouldn’t matter to her that she couldn’t seem to please him the way he claimed she did.
     
    Which one of them was lying? Why did it matter at all?
     
    Because it did. She wasn’t a “good” person. Sex didn’t matter to her for the most part. Sex mattered with him and that wasn’t a choice. It was a need. One that he filled so effortlessly for her, but she couldn’t seem to even rattle the stone cage he wore like a second-skin. But he loved her? Enough to suffer by himself? Even if it meant seeing her happy in her freedom?
     
    Get the fuck outta here.
     
    She turned her cheek, hiding in the curtain of blonde hair snarling in knots around her face. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you don’t…”
     
    “Why I don’t…what?” Nova’s brow wrinkled with genuine confusion, which only made her feel like more of an idiot. Like she was over exaggerating the whole situation.
     
    There was still time to save face. She could play it off, if she wanted to. She could crack the right joke and urge him to make a mess out of her. Anything to push this blissful crack of composure into the far outer-reaches of her