Eryka sat back on the bed nervously watching Adam as he removed his equipment. As an adventurer, he had a lot to remove.
Still, she was excited even if she was nervous. She had never mated with a human. The size comparison was something to be considered.
Adam finished removing his equipment and pulled his shirt off, looking her up and down with a devious smile. “Are you ready to do this?” he asked.
Eryka gawked at the human male’s well-defined chest. She could see the heavy muscle under his skin, the hair dusted across it. She felt a twitch in her loins as she realized this was happening.
He took a step closer to the goblin-girl, and she felt the heat radiating from him. His scent—leather and sweat and a hint of pine from the forest—filled her senses. Her own body responded, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the tavern room's stuffy air. This was real. This was the dream, made flesh and bone and raw, primal need.
Adam stepped closer and looked at the clothes still on her body. Eryka had a hard time looking him in the eye.
“Well, am I to be the only one undressing or are you hiding something from me?” He said.
Eryka fumbled with her own simple tunic, her small, nimble fingers suddenly feeling clumsy. The roughspun wool felt scratchy against her suddenly sensitive skin. She pulled it over her head, revealing small, pert breasts, the nipples a darker green than the rest of her skin, already tight and beaded with anticipation.
She managed a shy glance at him, and the look in his eyes—pure, unadulterated hunger—made her breath catch. He liked what he saw. The realization sent a thrill through her, chasing away some of the fear.
“Umm…” She said softly. “Because of our size difference, I should… make myself ready. You know, so it doesn’t hurt.”
Adam smiled at her. “I’d like to see that, actually.”
Eryka blushed but her hands weren’t ashamed. Her right hand moved to her inner thigh and up, beneath her skirt. She slid down behind her panties and started moving her hand. Her fingers traced the slick, heated folds of her sex, a place she knew well from many lonely nights, but it felt different now. Knowing he was watching, that he desired her, made every touch a thousand times more intense.
She gasped softly as her middle finger circled the tight entrance to her core, dipping inside just enough to tease. Her other hand rose to her breast, pinching the hardened peak between her thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight down to her loins.
Adam’s gaze was a physical weight, caressing her as much as her own hands. He watched her, his breathing growing heavier, the muscles in his stomach tensing. She hid her face with her free hand, embarrassed by his gaze.
Adam’s low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “None of that, now. Let me see you. All of you.” His voice was a rough velvet, wrapping around her. "That's beautiful, Eryka. Don't hide."
Her hand fell away from her face. Embarrassment warred with a dizzying, intoxicating thrill. She saw the raw need in his eyes, and it wasn't mocking. It was appreciative. He saw a woman, not just a goblin.
She let out a soft sigh, the sound filled with pleasure and a little bit of desperation, and worked her fingers faster, her hips beginning to rock in a shallow rhythm.
She felt the pressure building. Adam could see it too. He stood, kneeling down at the edge of the bed, his face close to her.
“Now, let’s see how you taste.” He said, reaching up to the hem of her panties and pulling them down her legs. They were soaked. Eryka didn’t stop moving the entire time. Now that she was exposed, her folds glistening in the dim light, she felt both more vulnerable and more powerful than ever before.
The anticipation was a physical ache. He lowered his head, and the first touch of his tongue against her was a searing spark. He was not hesitant. He explored her with a confident, knowing pressure, tasting the slickness she had worked up.
Her hips bucked off the bed, a choked cry escaping her lips. The feeling was overwhelming. Her own hands had been a comfort; his mouth was an invasion, a glorious, all-consuming force. He found the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds and circled it with his tongue, flicking it with a rhythm that sent stars bursting behind her closed eyelids. The sounds that came from her were no longer goblin or human: it was pure need.
His tongue kept working, expertly against her. He would lap at her entrance, gathering her arousal, before returning to that one, perfect spot, building the pressure until she was writhing beneath him, her hands fisting in the bedsheets. Her entire world narrowed to the heat of his mouth and the relentless waves of pleasure cresting higher and higher.
She was panting, the sounds escaping her throat turning to whimpers and then a long, shuddering cry. His name was a broken gasp on her lips as the wave finally crashed over her. It was a release so intense it bordered on pain, a full-body convulsion that left her trembling and breathless on the bed, her wrapping around his head in a fierce hold. He held her through it, his tongue gentling its movements, lapping at her softly as the tremors subsided.
She lay there for a moment, dazed, her skin tingling, the world slowly coming back into focus. The taste of her own release was still on her lips.
Slowly, Adam pulled back and knelt, wiping a glistening sheen from around his mouth. He looked up at her from the floor of the room, the raw, animal hunger still in his eyes but now it was tempered with something else, something warmer.
Her gaze slid down his body, past the flat plane of his stomach to the hard evidence of his own desire straining against the fabric of his trousers.
She was out of breath and feral at this point.
“Now my turn to taste.” She said, eyes locked onto his waist. Adam let out a low laugh.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
He stood up, and with a few quick movements, unfastened his trousers and let them drop. Eryka’s breath hitched. She had seen other men before, in the villages, at the rivers, but never one so close, so hard, so… for her. The sheer scale of him was daunting, a mix of intimidation and a deep, primal thrill. He was magnificent.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and she scrambled to her knees before him. She reached out a tentative hand, her small green fingers looking almost delicate against the taut, flushed skin of his length. The tip was wet. He jumped at her touch, a sharp intake of air hissing through his teeth.
Emboldened, she wrapped her fingers around him. He was hot and hard, like forged steel wrapped in velvet. She could feel the frantic pulse of his blood beating just beneath the surface.
She leaned forward, the scent of him filling her lungs—musk and salt and pure, unadulterated masculinity. She darted her tongue out, tasting the bead of moisture at the tip. It was salty, slightly bitter, and uniquely him. Adam’s hand came to rest on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, not pushing, just a gentle, encouraging pressure.
She took him into her mouth. It was a stretch, a pleasant pressure against her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She focused on the texture, the velvety skin sliding over the rigid core beneath. She began to move, her head bobbing slowly, finding a rhythm. Her hand, wrapped around the base, moved in tandem with her mouth, twisting slightly with each motion.
The sounds he made drove her on. Soft groans, the shift of the bedsprings as he shifted his weight, the way his fingers tightened in her hair. She looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting his. His head was thrown back, his jaw tight, a vein standing out on his neck.
She took him deeper, slowly at first, but then with more determination. She relaxed her throat, a trick she’d learned long ago out of simple curiosity, and let him slide further. He gasped, his hips twitching forward instinctively. He was deep now, her lips pressed against the base of him, her nose buried in the coarse, dark hair there. She held him for a moment, swallowing around him, the sensation making his entire body tense.
Then she drew back, sucking hard as she went, creating a powerful suction that made him curse under his breath. She repeated the motion, a slow, deliberate slide in, a hard, sucking pull out. She was in control, and the power was intoxicating.
She let out a small moan of pleasure when he gripped a handful of hair and started moving her on his own.
He began to move her on him, not forcefully, but with a clear, guiding rhythm. He set the pace, pulling her down as he thrust up, his hips rolling into her mouth. Eryka’s hands rested on his powerful thighs, her nails digging in slightly as she held on. Her own body was responding again, the ache between her legs returning with a vengeance. The sheer submission of the act, of letting him use her for his pleasure, was igniting a fire in her that surprised her. She was giving this to him, and he was taking it, and the exchange was electric.
His breath was coming in ragged pants now, the muscles in his thighs and stomach corded with tension.
She came back up with a gasp and look at him, fire in her eyes, hands working up and down his length.
“I’m not made of glass. You don’t have to be gentle with me.” She said.
And then she took him back into her mouth, forcing herself up and down in quick succession. It took Adam by surprise and he let her continue for a moment before her grabbed her head with both hands and started guiding her at the same speed. He was a man who had spent most of his life fighting monsters and men; he was rough by nature.
His movements were still controlled, but the gentle restraint was gone. Each thrust was deeper, more deliberate. The tip of him brushed the back of her throat with every pass, and she welcomed the sensation. Her own world had shrunk to the feel of him in her mouth, the scent of him filling her senses, the sounds of his pleasure filling her ears. It was a primal dance, and she was a more than willing partner.
She felt him swell, hardening even more between her lips, and she knew he was close.
She came back up with another gasp, a stream of spit running from him to her mouth.
“Not yet.” She said, standing and hastily removing her remaining clothes.
She straddled him, her hands on his chest.
“Are you sure?” He asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I told you. I’m not made of glass.”
She rose up on her knees and positioned herself, aligning her entrance with the hard length of him. She reached down, her small hand closing around him once more to guide him. She pressed the tip against her, feeling the stretch, the pleasant pressure as she began to lower herself onto him.
It was a slow, deliberate descent. She felt every inch, the full, thick presence of him spreading her, filling her in a way she had never imagined. There was a brief, sharp sting, a stretching that bordered on pain, but it was fleeting, swallowed by a wave of intense, full-body pleasure. She let out a long, shuddering breath as she finally settled onto him, her hips flush against his. He was buried to the hilt inside her. It was a perfect, overwhelming completeness.
Adam’s hands gripped her waist. She slapped them away.
“Mine.” She growled at him, kissing him deeply, her arms around his neck.
She began riding him, her hips doing all the work, her back arched and pressed against him. She was ferocious, moving in a quick rhythm. The noise of their bodies was loud in the room, a wet and pleasant rhythm. Her own moans soon turned into pants, her hair flying with each bounce.
His hands were still at his sides, but the muscles in his jaw were clenched, and his hips had begun to lift to meet her, a silent counterpoint to her aggressive rhythm. He was letting her have this, letting her take the lead, but she could feel the coiled tension in him, the primal urge to take over.
The friction was exquisite. Each downward press sent a fresh jolt of pleasure through her, building on the last, creating a rising tide of sensation that made her head spin. Her body felt like it was glowing from the inside out.
She sat up while still moving and Adam took the opportunity to throw her onto her stomach. She gasped in surprise. He entered her again from behind, his head moving next to hers as she moaned and panted.
He bit her ear and growled. “Mine.” He whispered into her ear.
Eryka moaned and tightened around him.
Adam grabbed her hips and pulled her into him as he thrust, any pretense of care and softness gone. This was a claiming, raw and primal. The angle was deeper, more intense. He was hitting a place inside her that made her vision white out, that made her toes curl.
He pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her upper body down onto the mattress, tilting her hips up to take him even deeper. Her moans were muffled by the coarse blanket, her fingers clutching desperately at the fabric. The sounds of their bodies colliding, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, was the only music in the room.
His rhythm was punishing, relentless. He was a warrior, and this was his battle. Each thrust was a conquest, a possession. The feral wildness she had unleashed in him was now fully focused on her, and she met it with her own. She pushed back against him, meeting every powerful drive with a backward arch of her hips, silently demanding more, demanding everything he had.
He snaked a hand around her front, his fingers finding that sensitive nub at the apex of her sex. He rubbed it in tight, wet circles, matching the rhythm of his hips. The dual sensation was too much. A second orgasm, more powerful than the first, ripped through her, a cataclysmic event that left her shaking and crying out, her inner walls clamping down on him like a vise.
He felt himself nearing the end of his restraint.
“Eryka…” he ground out, a warning and a question all at once.
“Inside,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, laced with a desperate, raw need. “Don’t stop.”
His pace became erratic, a beautiful, violent rhythm that spoke of a final, desperate climb. He drove into her one last, impossibly deep time, a choked groan tearing from his throat as he spilled himself within her. She felt the hot pulses of his release, a life-giving warmth that seemed to spread through her entire being, filling every empty space she’d ever known.
For a long moment, they remained locked together, breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Then Adam fell to his side and lay next to her panting.
Eryka turned and sprawled across him, taking him into her mouth once again. But this time she was gentle. Her mouth moved in slow, cleaning motions, making sure that every drop he had spilled found its way into her. She didn’t taste him now; she only tasted herself, the musk of their combined pleasure, and a deep, earthy salt that was uniquely Adam. He twitched, oversensitive, a soft sigh escaping him, but he didn't stop her. He let her tend to him, a silent acknowledgment of the intimate care she offered.
She came back up and curled against him, her small body fitting perfectly into the curve of his arm. He was so warm, a furnace against her cooler goblin skin. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady, slowing beat of his heart. For a while, neither of them spoke.