Black Briar by Sophie Avett Page B

memory.
     
    Sybille sank back on her knees and covered her eyes, peering through the splices of her fingertips at his length. Still ready and hard between them. “I don’t understand why I can’t…”
     
    “Sybille.” He slipped a talon beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his warm black eyes. They were bright with male amusement. “My skin is thick. I require heavy stimulation for release.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “But your mouth is very sufficient…”
     
    Was this asshole really laughing right now?
     
    “Oh, fuck you!”
     
    Sybille swatted his thigh, swearing to hell and high heavens, and he chuckled, but it was low and mirthless and she was barely given a chance to react before he fisted a rough hand in her hair and forcefully guided her face down to his cock. “Suck.”
     
    Lips opening around his length leisurely, she flicked her tongue and suckled him into mouth. He sought deeper and lifted his hips, flexing between her lips. Holding her hair while he did it, tendrils spilling from his vise grip like yellow gnarled flowers and vines.
     
    Wet noises and soft moans.
     
    “Sybille.” His voice was rough, deep. On the edge of needy. “Harder.”
     
    She lost it.
     
    Sucking him hard and fast. Taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. And it wasn’t a lot. Her gargoyle was blessed. Thick and long. Sometimes, she couldn’t even take all of him at the same time. Not while he was in this form. Right now, she’d take as much as she could get though. She’d take whatever he was willing to give her, this star.
     
    Fluid leaked from the tip, coating her tongue in more copper. It took time, patience. Her jaw was aching. Sometimes he gagged her on it a little, a quiet mischievous growl of pleasure slipping from his lips, like the sight was too good not to bask. Other times, he lay perfectly still, combing his index finger through her weak waves, watching them tumble and fall around her face while she sucked his cock like a piece of candy. Like it would give her peace if she let it.
     
    When she couldn’t suck anymore, her jaw nearly locked with pain, he fisted her hair and guided her away.   Used the tendrils as a leash to guide her back to where he could soothe the ache with sweet kisses. Rolling her around, he held her, with her back against his chest. Two dragons spooning in the stars, he cuddled her in the safety of his wings, and kissed and sucked on her nipples. Lavishing attention on them even though she didn’t quite think they were worthy of his adoration.
     
    He sucked until they were swollen and she was rubbing her ass against his cock, length slipping between her cheeks, legs splayed open, completely and utterly naked beneath a blessing of moonlight. Relaxed and wanton in his arms. Inhibitions gone. And then, when he’d simply had enough, when he had to fuck her or else, he hoisted her tangled limbs off the bed and flung her into the swing.
     
    It was no gentle, calm scene setting. One minute she was rolling around like a dragonling with a belly full of cream and blood. The next, she had nothing but the ceiling for a guide. The butt support strapped below her glutes, another strapped across her hamstrings, and a few others braced in a ladder up her back. She hung with her legs open, bent at the knee, in a leather hammock. The gargouille stood between her legs, balanced on the mattress as if the clouds painted on the sheets really were the heavens.
     
    He caught her garters—all that was left of her clothing—his knuckles leaving impressions in her thighs. He steadied her. Wings unfolded into proud mastery over his shoulders and cast his glowing marble blue eyes in darkness. Her pussy was so wet, so ready for him. Please. Anything. Now.
     
    She’d never be sure, but she’d swear he’d smiled in that darkness. She could barely make it out. Never had she seen him smile. Never. But for a moment, hanging in his stars, she witnessed the curve. The way it bent and