Oh, hell yeah, I bet there’s a sensitive spot on those bad boys.
I smile, but then I recall the fantasy I’ve been harboring about his horns, and it’s like my brain freezes as I let it play out in my mind nice and slow.
“What just happened?” Iceman asks, pulling back slightly as his voice yanks me from my lascivious thoughts.
I feel my face go instantly red. “What? Nothing.”
“Are you blushing?” he asks with amusement and intrigue in his voice.
“No,” I lie.
“Oh, you have to tell me what was just running through that mind of yours now.”
I shouldn’t be embarrassed. This is Iceman. I’m completely comfortable with him. But I’ve been craving the intimacy between us for so long now that I think my brain might have thought up just about every possible sex position the two of us could do. But how the hell do you say, “Oh hey, can I ride your face and play with your horns?” There’s no precedent for this kind of thing, and as much as I want to be like, the worst that can happen is he says no, I’m too nervous all of a sudden to find out. I mean, he did seem to like my quickly-strip-down-naked idea, but I don’t want to push him too much.
I bite my lip as I mentally debate.
“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll just have to make you come over and over again just by petting your wings. No sex for you until you spill it.”
My eyes widen as he immediately starts stroking my purple feathery appendages. His fingers seem to know right where to go as he pets them firmly and languidly, and it makes me gasp and jolt against him. I try to get away, but he keeps me firmly pinned around his torso, and holy shit, I really am about to come...hard.
“Okay, okay!” I scream in concession, panting as Iceman smiles at me victoriously and stops his seductive touch. My wings shiver a little at the almost orgasm. I nip at Iceman’s bottom lip, and he recaptures my mouth for a moment to deepen the kiss, his hand holding my ass firmly against him. “Confess,” he demands against my lips.
I flick his top lip with my tongue defiantly before letting out a huff. “How strong are your horns?” I ask in an effort to deduce whether or not my fantasy could actually work. I mean, if we’re dealing with popsicle stick level strength, then there’s no need to embarrass myself.
My question seems to catch him off guard. “Pretty strong... Why?”
I make a petulant whining noise and then ovary up. “Because...I kind of want to ride your face while holding your horns for leverage.”
We both go quiet for a beat.
Shit, it was too soon!
27
When Iceman just continues to look at me with bewilderment at my blurted confession, I know I need to do some damage control stat.
“I know, I know,” I say quickly. “It was just this thing that popped up in my fucked up mind when I first saw you, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s completely crazy to even ask, especially when we haven’t even had sex yet, and we were just getting started… And not everyone likes a good face fuck like I do. I shouldn’t just assume you would even want to have me do that. But it was a fantasy, so I can’t really do much about that kink, and—you know what, let’s just pretend I never asked and get back to kissing,” I say, forcing myself to stop this humiliatingrambled spiel.
But before I can latch onto his mouth to stop him from replying, he pulls back. “Hold on, let me get this straight. Since you first met me, you’ve been fantasizing about holding my horns and fucking my face?” he asks carefully.
I cringe a little and nod, unable to read his expression and gauge how he feels about this. “I blame my demon nature,” I tell him sheepishly.
“Wow,” he admits, looking shocked. “I guess all there is to say is...it’s time to buzz the tower!”
The Top Gun quote he just threw out takes a second to register, but Iceman is already lifting me up and placing my thighs on his shoulders. I squeal, completely surprised and my head nearly hitting the ceiling, and then heat rushes through me as he suddenly buries his face in my pussy without hesitation.
Holy fucking shit!
His cool lips and tongue start lapping up my desire, immediately coaxing out a moan from me. I’m too stunned to do anything else.
“Get your head in the game, Maverick,” he orders between my thighs, and I snap to attention and grab onto his horns. They’re hard and ridged and surprisingly warm against my palms. I get a firm grip just as Iceman wraps his lips around my clit. I feel his mouth grow colder until it feels like he’s pressing an ice cube against my favorite bundle of nerves. I cry out as that ice cube starts sucking and flicking and circling.
Iceman’s hands grip my ass as he holds me firmly to his face, and I grip his horns even harder and start grinding against his mouth. He groans as I start moving and writhing, and he drops his mouth from my clit to lick at my entrance as I grind on his tongue.
His hard blue horns are the perfect leverage, and I banish any reservations still floating around in my mind and just let go. Not literally, because I’m not trying to fall, and this position might be my new favorite thing ever. It’s possible that horns are my new favorite appendage next to cocks...and arms...and definitely hands and tongues. Okay, who am I kidding? I want it all, every demon inch of my guys, all the time.
Without warning, Iceman’s cold tongue sweeps back
