Olivia by R. Lee Smith Page B

them.  For some odd reason, this evidence of modesty struck Olivia as very funny.  She was no exhibitionist herself—she hadn’t even liked kissing in public with either of the men she’d previously taken to her bed—but this hulking, horned, claw-handed creature’s shyness tickled her.  She laughed, not trying to be loud but only laughing, and he sent a swift, worried glance over his shoulder at the empty doorway.  This only made her giggle again, which so unnerved him that he started to back up.
    Oh, but she didn’t want to ruin his mood, especially when he was doing something nice for her.  Not the sex, he did that every night, but taking her out, letting her meet people, giving her a warm bath…the nice things that mattered.  Olivia reached down as he drew away, gripping firmly at the base of his shaft and giving him an apologetic little squeeze.
    It startled him.  One of his hands slipped from her thigh, but the water held her up.  She tightened her legs, pulling herself down along his length until she was once more snug against his hip.  She wrapped her other arm around his neck and smiled at him.
    The smile seemed to startle him, too.  He forgot to hum at her for a few breaths, and when he started again, it was little more than a rasp of sound in the echoing cavern.  Hesitantly, he put his hand back on her thigh, and when she began to move, rolling her hips in the same deep, slow pace he liked to use, he shivered a little.
    “Does it feel good?” Olivia whispered.
    He touched the side of her face, thrummed huskily, stared.  The water splashed between them in steady waves, sloshed over the lip of the pool, made puddles all around them for the light to dazzle across. 
    “I think it feels good,” she told him. 
    It was the first time she’d said anything at all about the sex they shared.  Three startles in one night had an eroding effect on his self-control.  His claws flexed at her, blunt points digging at her thigh, pulling her tighter to him.  She didn’t mind; the water was warm and his hard-swollen shaft even hotter as she swept easily back and forth, up and down, over and around.
    He hadn’t checked the doorway in quite a while.
    Olivia laughed again, reaching back to catch the lip of the pool for leverage so that she could pump her hips at him a little harder.  It raised her up some, water falling like a black veil away from her breasts, leaving them naked and shiny in the open air, her nipples swelling in the cold, beads of water shaking free at every bounce, and there he was, gazing raptly right past them at her face, only her face, mesmerized.
    She started to cum, not in a bright burst of friction, but in a rising wave, like the tide coming in against the shore.  She could feel it starting, feel it cresting, and then it crashed down, driving her under and bearing her up again, propelling her before it until she hit whatever beach there was and it could wash over her for good and all and then recede.  She sagged; he caught her, and he must have cum with her unnoticed in the heat and the wave because she could feel him softening even as he leaned back against the side of the pool, wide-eyed and breathing hard.
    He looked at her for a second or two as she found her feet, then showed his teeth in a shocking grin and said, “I can’t believe we did that in a bath !”
    She laughed at him.  “You started it.”
    He snapped one wing in a shrug and rubbed his face, still grinning, then leapt from the pool in a spray of water.  He shook himself off, beating his wings so fiercely that the two nearest candles went out.  “Stay here, Olivia,” he said good-naturedly, and went into a connecting chamber.
    She climbed out of the bath and waited, dipping her legs in the water, leaning back on her hands and humming under her breath.  She could hear him moving around close by and it wasn’t long before he came back to her, dressed in a fresh loincloth and carrying new clothes for