Desolation Road (Torpedo Ink 4)

He did want to show off his kitten occasionally. Never to outsiders, but once in a while he would like to bring her to a party, or if someone dropped by late at night for a drink and she was already out, he wouldn’t mind displaying her. She was beautiful. Gorgeous. And he was proud of her. Showing her off was a big part of playing, although he could live without that side of it if she never got there. Looking around at the cushion on the library desk and knowing about the one in the glass room, he thought perhaps she was signaling she was very close to accepting being put on display at a Torpedo Ink party.

He drew on his silk drawstring pants, the ones that gave him room for his already hard cock to expand and allowed his little kiska to easily pull them down when she needed to get to her salty cream when she was hungry. The larger toy chest was in his closet and he took the tail he preferred, the last one she’d been wearing, the one with the fluffier fur and rubies and diamonds. The plug was a little wider and curved to accommodate the natural shape of her body for comfort, and a little longer in order to push her boundaries just a bit.

He laid out the tail and bottle of special lubricant on the bed. He hesitated over the harness. He loved the way it looked on her body, but he also liked the way her skin looked so pristine, muscles rippling suggestively, so feline and sensual as she crawled toward him or away from him, nothing marring his view of her.

Movement caught the corner of his eyes. Scarlet peeked around the corner of the doorway, head low to the ground, just the way a little kitten might cautiously survey a room before entering it. Every nerve ending in his body went on high alert, so aware of her and every nuance, every expression. She cocked her head from side to side, her jeweled eyes meeting his, and then she retreated fast, pulling her head back from the doorway.

“Kiska.” He kept his voice gentle. That smooth velvet that caressed and soothed. “Come here to me now.”

Her head slipped back around the door to study him for a moment, lashes fluttering in hesitation, and then she began that slow, sensuous crawl that was sexier than even his brain had remembered was so fucking amazing because she was even better at it. Lower to the ground, slower, almost a slow-motion freeze-frame, but not quite, still always in motion. Her hips swayed. Her breasts rocked. Her shoulders undulated as she put one hand slowly in front of her on the carpet, moving the opposite knee.

He sank down onto the edge of the bed. Spread his legs wide and patted his lap. “Crawl up here, kiska. You look naked without your tail and collar.”

Little droplets of water clung to her, enhancing the way the waning sun shone on her skin. Already the fog was drowning out the last of the rays, but he had always enjoyed the way the mist closed in, muffling sound around the house, turning his home into what seemed like a private estate. Now, sharing his world with Scarlet, he wouldn’t mind if they lived on a private island where no one could find them for days on end.

Scarlet wove her body in and out of his legs just like a little cat, rubbing her head along his thigh before she crawled up onto the bed and finally stretched herself out over him, making certain her bottom lay across his lap. Feeling her tremble, he rubbed the backs of her thighs and then her buttocks.

“You like this, malen’kiy kiska,” he soothed. “The lotion warms you. You just stay still for me.” He bent his head to press a kiss to the base of her spine. “I’ll take care of you.”

He poured the oil into his palms and began to rub it into the backs of her thighs, moving his hands in circles, pressing deep, going up her legs to the seam under her buttocks. “Remember how good it feels to wear your tail? How stretched and full you feel? This tail fills you and vibrates. It can do so much more than that.”

He rubbed the oil on the inside of her thighs and then between her legs, wickedly painting her clit, circling it and then fucking her gently with an oil-coated finger. He painted her pussy lips and then began to rub the oil into her cheeks, his thumbs making loops into the seam, pressing deep and pulling her cheeks apart. He pressed his thumb into the little star and poured the oil directly into that little entrance, using his thumb to press in and out and then his finger, pushing deeper and deeper. The heat was beginning to grow into something else and his little pussycat began to squirm in spite of his command not to move.