Berries and Greed

“You mean as more than a friend, right?” she asked, brows pinching. “Just want to clarify that before I kiss you.”

Oh my god, please just shove your tongue in my mouth.

“Yes,” I rasped. “As more than a friend. A lot more. Probably too much more.”

Shitting hell, she needed to kiss me before I said anything else. Eyes softening, she stroked my cheek and closed the distance between us. The moment her lips met mine, I melted. Shivering, I curled my fingers into the soft fabric of her onesie and clung on as her tongue dipped into my mouth. Fuck, it was so soft and smooth. Did she hate all the bumps on mine? Did she think I had a medical condition or something?

My erection had faded while we talked, but now it flared back to life, stretching to nudge past the waistband of my sweats and pulsing against my belly. I felt its barbs rasping over my skin, making me shiver with pleasure. It felt good to me, but it would not feel good to Beryl.

Shit, how was this going to work?

Just enjoy this! I screamed to myself as my tongue slid against Beryl’s in a hot, slow glide. You’re kissing Beryl! BERYL. Her tongue is in your mouth RIGHT NOW. Stop thinking!

But I couldn’t. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t brushed my teeth last night before falling asleep, and I hadn’t brushed them this morning yet either. Ears fluttering with embarrassment, I tore my mouth from hers and covered it with my hand.

“Shit, sorry. I must have really bad morning breath.”

Beryl huffed. “So do I. I don’t care.”

I made a move to get up. “Let me just—”

“Greid. Stop worrying.” She hooked a leg over mine to prevent me from moving, then grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the couch cushions.

And that was it. My mind went blissfully blank. I shivered, sinking back down and sighing as my body went loose.

Beryl kissed the corner of my mouth, nuzzling me there as she grinned and murmured, “Good boy,” before crushing our lips together.

Oh my god, was she trying to make me come? My dick throbbed uncontrollably from her words, and I let out a humiliatingly plaintive moan into her mouth.

Call me a good boy again. Call me your little slut and tie me up and do whatever you want to me.

My eyes popped open in alarm. Okay, maybe I was getting… a little too worked up. Beryl had said she liked that I was submissive, but that didn’t mean she’d be into… anything else. All the stuff I fantasised about. All the stuff I craved and had never gotten to experience.

Shit, what if she was into it? She was still pinning my wrist down, making my cock leak all over my stomach. I felt overly heavy, my limbs sluggish. When she released my wrist to slide her hand over my chest, I didn’t move my arm because she hadn’t told me I could.

My legs spasmed when her hand trailed down and rubbed over the head of my cock, cupping it through thick fabric. Worry made my pulse jump, but she didn’t indicate that she could feel any barbs through the onesie as her fingers moved lower, mapping out the column of my dick.

Oh my god, Beryl’s touching my dick.

My breaths were trembling out of me, mingling with hers as we kissed feverishly. Maybe this could work. Maybe when she wanted to make me come, she could just jerk me off through the onesie. I basically lived in it anyway. Right now, the barbs on my cock were small—they felt more like a rough, pleasurable abrasion over my palm when I jacked off—so they didn’t pierce through the thick fabric and hurt her palm.

If I had a spontaneous orgasm, however…

“I want to touch your cock,” Beryl murmured, lifting her head to gaze down at me through lust-hazy eyes.

“Nnngh.” I swallowed thickly, pretending I couldn’t see my dick bucking urgently under the onesie as it cast its enthusiastic vote in the matter. “I—um…”

I didn’t think I had the brain power to explain things right now. I couldn’t just pull my cock out and present it to her. I’d seen those creepy drawings and etchings at the cult’s compound—the ones of a demiurgus standing proudly with a small, smooth dick. A very incorrect dick. If Beryl thought that was what mine looked like, she might be horrified by the reality.

Maybe sensing my sudden spike in anxiety, Beryl gave me an easy smile and slid her hand off my dick to stroke my side.

“Maybe later, huh? Or if and when you want me to.” Settling her head on my chest, she sighed and shifted closer. “You’re so comfy. Even with a giant boner digging into my arm.”

That made me snort out a slightly hysterical laugh, but it also succeeded in relaxing my tense muscles. Hesitantly, I lifted a hand and threaded my fingers through her curls. She immediately grunted and pushed her head into the touch.

“Can you use your claws? I’ve always thought they’d feel good.”