Chapter Fourteen

Niva

I want his big, long fingers inside me, to watch them thrusting into me and making me come. But I want it for him, too. I want to see if my theory works. It might. If I come directly on his hand, will my power give him feeling back into his fingers? His whole hand?

It might not work. It’s possible his face was less damaged than the rest of his nervous system, and he’s capable of regaining feeling only there. I’m trying to fight off my feelings of inadequacy if I can’t manage to heal him. Gods, how horrible would that be… For me, because it would be disastrous to my all-powerful reputation, and for him, because what’s worse, never having sex or having sex and not being able to feel it?

I am terrified for him. What if I’ve given him false hope? No wonder my big, generous, virgin human likes to take things slow. It’s a first for me, too, but I’m enjoying it. Both of us giving each other firsts. He’s such a giver, I have no complaints. I couldn’t deny him anything. Especially when he denies me nothing I ask.

“I won’t do this for healing me,” he says. “But I’ll do it for you. You want my fingers?” His grip tightens on my ass.

I smile, not sure he knows he’s doing it, since he can’t feel, but it tells me he wants to use his hands on me, too. I nod behind me where there’s a special fuck chair beside the table. “Over there.”

He squints at the seat that is supposed to be hip height. It’s too short for him, with a curving back and optional foot stirrups. “What is that?”

“What do you think it is?” I tease him. “A baby seat?”

“Uh, no. I guess not.” He laughs. “I just didn’t expect sex furniture in the kitchen.”

“Of course, there is. Food and fucking go together.” I shrug. “Besides, actual counters are never the exact height you need. This one’s adjustable.”

With an excited smile that I love seeing on his face, he backs me onto the chair, and I show him the lever to change the height. He sets it to the highest setting, making me bounce and laugh.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks in a throaty growl.

My face is beautifully level with his. I kiss him and cling to him, bringing him as close to me as I can, his chest brushing against my nipples. “I’m ready for you.” I open my thighs wide around his hips, and he glances down to see me visibly wet for him.

He stares and licks his lips as though all he really wants to do is lick me. “If you want me to use my hand and not my tongue, you’re going to have to help me.”

It hits me that the only pleasure he’s going to get out of this is watching. “You really are doing this to make me feel good.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have any hope, do you?”

“None whatsoever. I’ve been beyond hope for a long time.”

“Maybe I can teach you some of that, too.” I have to have hope. The fallibility it would mean for me and my powers if I can’t heal him would be demoralizing.

I lift his hand, and his breathing elevates. I place the tip of his first finger at the top of my first ulma and move it in a circular motion. I suck in air at the pleasurable contact. “Oh yes.” It’s just as I thought. “Your fingers are the perfect size.” Broad and firm, his fingertip is the same size as my ulma, turning and sliding over it with perfect pressure.

“Now these.” I take his second and third finger and place them over my other two, so he’s circling all three of them at once in an identical rhythm.

“Like this?” he asks.

“Mmmm.” My hips buck against the stimulation. Since I have three, it’s like a triple massage searing up my spine. It’s hard to keep my wits about me when all three are being worked like this at the same time.

My hand goes limp, and his hand pauses.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, encouraging his fingers. He begins again as I showed him, and I smile in satisfaction. My human is very good at following instructions. He’s ready to add his second hand.

“Do you want to know…” I breathe, my heart accelerating. “What I like…on the inside?”

He glances at my face with wide eyes. “Yes.”

“Give me your other hand.”

He puts his other hand in mine, and I point his first two fingers, which are so wide they’re bigger than most cocks. I rock back on my pelvis and insert his fingers within me, clenching around him on instinct; he feels so exquisitely good.

“I know you can’t feel them,” I explain, “And my internal nulba claws won’t hurt you, but when I orgasm, they’ll grip your fingers. Okay?” I don’t want it to frighten him when it happens.

He inhales a deep breath, and I glance at his cock through his uniform, which is hard enough to stand upright if it were free. “Okay.”

“Now slide them in and out.” I show him the movement, and he does as I say. He’s so gentle in his hesitation, but just the size of his fingers, the sight of his large hand penetrating me is erotic as hell.

I move his hand, fucking myself with his fingers while he continues to circle my ulmas with his other hand. “Oh gods…” I moan and throw back my head. “Slower, or I’ll come too soon.”

He eases off in his rhythm. “You’re the one moving my hands,” he smiles. “You decide the tempo.”

“Mmmm.” I grip his wrists, his hands still moving in me. “I changed my mind.”

He bends his head to my ear. “Tell me.”

I shudder, losing myself to the pleasure of his fingers. “Harder…”

“Like this?” he increases the pressure of both hands.

“Yes…” I could come now. I can come on command, anytime I want. It’s a thing with the Exstare, but I don’t want to come on command. I want to come when I can’t stand not to come anymore. I want to come when the pleasure gets so hot and so insistent, I’m unable to hold back.

I’m almost there.

I squeeze the wrist of his circling hand. “Faster.” He does it, and I keen in my throat, trying to focus and still form words. I squeeze his other wrist, the one with fingers inside me. “Slower, harder.”

He lets me guide him and watches our hands. “Fuck, damn, you’re wet,” he groans and on his own twists his fingers so he can see more of my wetness.

“Yes, more of that!” I cry out, and I watch his slick fingers moving in and out of me.

“I can’t wait till you come on my hands,” he murmurs. “When you get so wet you…you…” He doesn’t have the words for it.

“When I come so hard,” I moan against his mouth, “I’m dripping down your fingers into your palms?”

“Damn,” he breathes. “Fuck yes.” Oh, my human likes his dirty talk. I can teach him that, too.

“I’m gonna come so hard, I’ll make you lose it, too.” I move his hands harder with my grip on his wrists. “You want to come in your pants for me?”

He growls a low sound that reverberates through his chest.

“No?” I nip his lip. “You want to fuck me instead? You want to fuck me with that great big cock of yours? Mmmm?”

“Yessss.” His eyes darken.

“You want to stick your cock where I’m wet? Where I’m gonna make you come inside me so hard you’ll forget your own name?”

“Shut the fuck up, Niva,” he orders. “It’s your turn to forget your name.”

I bite his ear and whisper, “Then make me.”

He growls something unintelligible then lets loose with his hands, his hesitation gone. He thrusts his fingers in long smooth glides, but hard, sliding his fingers in as far as they’ll go on each thrust.

“Do you know how big my cock is?” he groans.

The pleasure mounting, I’m quickly losing coherent thought. “Y-yes.”

“I don’t think you can take it.”

My eyes shoot wide open, but he’s slamming his hands in me so hard now, I’m shaking. “I can—I can—take it!”

He slows his hands, and I cry out, “Don’t stop!”

“You have to take another finger first. But can you?” He’s such a fucking tease.

“Yes!”

“Beg me for it.”

“Please,” I breathe, loving this game, desperate for him to keep going. “I need another finger!”

He adds a third big, bulbous finger inside me, and the stretch is so exquisite. He resumes fucking me, and I can’t help screaming, “More, more!”

“That’s it,” he soothes in my ear, like this is an everyday thing. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Mm-mm,” is all I can sigh, the ecstasy mounting inside me, pulling my wits and stealing my control, deliciously. But I don’t want it to end. Not yet.

“I said,” he forces. “Do you like it?” At the same time, he circles his fingers over my ulmas even faster.

“Ah—y—es.”

“Say it.” He fucks me even harder. “Say you like it.”

My body rocks with the movement of his, my breasts shaking in time to his thrusting hands. “I—I like it—I like it!”

Just when I don’t think it can get any better, just when I’m about to surrender and give in to his demands to come, he bends forward and bites down on my nipple.

“Graven!” I cry and come so hard, I see stars.

I’m the star; I know this. I blind myself. Even with my eyes closed, but still, inside my mind, the climax storms through me like a meteor. It must be so strong because I only ever come on command, rather than because I reached my limit. I’d forgotten what my limit was.

Power spills from me; I feel it. I think it transfers to him, through his hands where he’s touching me. I’m too gone with bliss to tell, my nulba gripping his fingers so they’re impossible for him to take back, squeezing until I’ve wrung every last drop of pleasure I can from him.

The orgasm subsides, and my breathing calms, and Graven is murmuring my name. He’s on his knees in front of me, stroking and kissing me between my thighs, licking up my come and dipping his fingers in it.

He’s fixated and enraptured, staring at my pussy with utter adoration. If it weren’t so fucking hot, it would be sweet.

“Graven?” I ask, not wanting to interrupt him, but really dying to know if it worked. “Can you feel anything?”

He dips his fingers inside me and pulls them back out with a heavy drop of my come sliding down to his palm. “So warm,” he murmurs, then sucks his fingers in his mouth. “Mmm.” He shakes himself, seeming delirious with pleasure.

To test him, I take the hand that’s just been in his mouth and suck his fingers between my lips.

He gasps so hard, I fear he’ll suffocate, and his eyes gape like he’s glimpsed the impossible. “Niva—Niva—oh gods…”

I smile around his fingers and lick the tips with my tongue and slide them in and out of my mouth. He starts to hyperventilate, and I worry his heart will explode, so I stop.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I pull his mouth to mine for a gentle kiss.

“I—I—” He runs his hands up my thighs, so slowly, excruciatingly slowly, it makes me gasp. He cups my breasts and traces my nipples, unable to stop touching me.

I chuckle at his wonder. “I guess it worked.”

“Yes.” He gulps. “Can I fuck you with my cock now?”

Hope lights his eyes, and I should feel the excitement that he does. But I’m nervous. Hands and lips are one thing, but the last time I tried to put power into his whole body, he regained no sensation on his chest. It’s very possible the rest of him can’t be healed. If his nerves are severed beyond repair, I’m not sure even I can fix him. I’ve made him hope now, but if I can’t heal his cock so he can truly experience sex, it will devastate him.

It’s my turn to be afraid. He may be my first patient whom I’m doomed to fail.