“I’m not grieving for these people. They meant nothing to me, Agnar,“ she said, louder this time, looking me straight in the eye. Holding my gaze as if she’d tethered it to hers.
She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face. “Thank you, Agnar,“ she breathed, extending a hand to brush mine that was pressed to the cushion between us, my grounding anchor.
Her touch affected me more than I wanted to admit, I felt my cock swell and it took all my willpower to keep it inside my body.
I wasn’t sure why I got up abruptly and left. I hadn’t sworn a vow of celibacy or anything. Nor was I scared of the woman with the witch red hair. If anything I didn’t want her to only make advances because she wanted to influence or thank me. I didn’t know which one of the scenarios I hated more. Both made me faintly sick. I would not abuse her position, or mine.
And yet I couldn’t deny that I found her beautiful, that I longed to touch her, to thread my fingers through her long hair, curl my fingers around the elegant nape of her neck, brush kisses on those lips and devour her.
I lay down on my bed even though morning was only an hour away. Quietly I slipped a hand under the waistband of my trousers, placing it gently on the slit between my legs. Our genitals lay inside our bodies, protected by the hard scales of our body armour. Whoever wanted to tell me that Kirins were made for peace fooled themselves. We were peace bringers but not in the way most viewed us. This way was ours and it was good enough.
Our bodies were made to fight. But how did that old Latin saying go? If you wanted peace, you needed to prepare for war.
My hands felt greedy when I touched myself; there was a strange sensation of wanting something that was forbidden. I had touched myself in the past of course. But never with a woman nearby. Slipping a finger inside the warm wetness of the cavity that protected my most intimate parts felt exciting but also wrong somehow. I paused briefly, overcome with a sense of guilt and shame.
Still, I couldn’t stop. Sliding a little deeper I nudged the head of my cock into the soft folds of flesh at my entrance. Rubbing against the already swollen head sent a ripple of pleasure through my body and I groaned softly as the sensations intensified. I had to be quiet, Faye didn’t need to hear this, not when I had just killed three people that had meant something to her just outside this house. Killing the bastard that had threatened to violate her had felt amazing.
I stroked harder and faster now feeling the slickness of my juices coating my cock. It was half out of me by the time I fisted it and pulled it fully out of my body and watched it glisten in the dim light of the room. Stroking up my length I took up a slow, hard rhythm that made my head spin and my heart pound in my chest. I was already coming but I kept stroking, unable to stop as I came violently, painting my stomach and chest with pearly blue cum, the sight of which sent a shudder of pleasure through my entire body.
Falling back onto my pillows, I watched the drops of cum drip from my cock to the scales of my stomach, swirling in a pattern much like water flowing over rocks. Smiling to myself, I lazily dragged my fingers through it, disturbing the fluid like you would disturb the smooth surface of a lake. Then I used my shirt to clean myself, threw it across the room onto a pile of clothes, and drifted off to sleep.
