A Sprite's Tale (novella) Read Free Page B

flick at my clit. Each little stab of his tongue made my sex clench and my wings flutter. I was inverted, remember, which meant my wings wanted to propel me headfirst into the moss-covered soil at Nick’s feet. I didn’t want that. There was no way I wanted his mouth to leave my sex, and I’m pretty certain — based on the eager way Nick’s tongue explored my pussy — he didn’t want it to either.
    I curled my fingers around his ankles, gripping him hard in an effort to stay exactly where I was. My thighs parted farther, opening my drenched sex more to his mouth. I heard him groan as he lapped at my juices, a sound low, raw and hungry. I knew how he felt. His cock filled my mouth with such perfection. I took it as deep as I could, wanting to feel its entire length and girth with my tongue. Pre-cum oozed from its tip, salty and sweet at once, and for some reason images of snow crystals flittered through my pleasure-fuzzy mind. I moaned and plunged my mouth farther down his shaft, tracing the engorged veins ribboning its length with my tongue until I came to his balls.
    Another groan rumbled in Nick’s chest. I felt it in my belly and sex. The vibrations rippled through me, set every fibre of my being on fire. Wet pulses of tension claimed my pussy, radiating deep into my core — a wanton centre Nick’s tongue seemed determined to plunder.
    By the Elf Lord, I’d never had my sex fucked so thoroughly with just a mouth. The realisation made me quiver and my wings beat like mad. If this feeling of absolute rapture was the result of just his mouth, how would the massive organ in my mouth make me feel?
    I had to know. Now.
    I made to move to disengage from the inverted sixty-niner, but Nick’s teeth stopped me. They nipped my clit. Pain exploded in my sex. Sweet, glorious, exquisite pain. Ribbons of pain that made me cry out and flooded my sex with cream. Oh, yes.
    There is a very fine line between pleasure and pain but it is rarely crossed with such delicious intent. Nick’s teeth claimed my clit with the absolute correct amount of pressure and purpose. My body reacted — explosively. A gush of hot tension surged through my core and I arched backward, my spine bowing into a severe U that thrust my hips and sex harder to Nick’s face.
    The brutal — and utterly unexpected — orgasm consumed me. I screamed, the sound ripping through the rainforest, silencing all but one lone kookaburra. My wings had never beat so hard, my sex had never constricted so forcefully. Pure currents of unadulterated pleasure possessed me and my body didn’t know what to do.
    So it did this…it shimmered into visibility.
    At the exact moment, my fevered, sensation-overloaded mind stopped communicating with the lantana and released Nick’s wrists and ankles.

Nick Saint Nicholas
    The vines holding me prisoner whipped away, retracting back into the dense undergrowth of the surrounding bush. I was free. But I didn’t care, because hovering before me — her wonderfully sweet sex still pressed to my mouth, iridescent wings a blur of color — was my captor. My bushland sprite.
    My bushland sprite?
    The possessive pronoun barely registered in my brain. I was totally and utterly fixated on the creature before me, the female who’d made my body feel like it was a thrumming charge of raw electricity.
    Luminous copper-red hair tumbled about her head, spilled down her bowed back, almost a living entity in itself. Her pale flesh seemed to glow, highlighting the perfect structure of her lithe body, a body still at right angles to mine.
    I grabbed her hips with my now free hands, holding her. Imprisoning her. I was free of her vines, but I wasn’t free of her. Not at all. I should have pushed her away and returned to the beach, but I didn’t.
    I did not want to round-up reindeer and deliver presents. Not even close.
    I wanted to see her face, her eyes, as I plunged my cock into her sex.
    I wanted to make her scream that melodic, musical scream of