Growing accustomed to it, she met his tongue a little more confidently, trying to brush it in return.
Emerie had always adored kissing, but this was very different. It felt odd to have a long, thin, and pointed tongue now trying to twirl around hers. Yet… a swirl of tenderness bloomed behind her sternum when he gave a quiet, satisfied moan. In its wake, shyness warmed her cheeks, ears, and chest.
The more she melted for him, for this dancing kiss, the more she realised it hadn’t been the locking of lips she’d been seeking, but that feeling to radiate within her. There was still warmth, still wetness, and his sweet groan became hers to swallow until she gave her own.
Her eyelids grew lazy as she pushed her tongue against his more forcefully – like her flat, short one had any chance of taking control against his long, windy, dexterous one.
“Emerie,” he rasped, grabbing her backside to knead it.
When his orbs changed purples, darkening, her eyes snapped open wide. She pulled back, yanking her tongue from him.
“No,” he lightly bit out. “More.”
Next thing she knew, his tongue was brushing against hers again. He also pressed more into the cavity of her mouth. She greeted it, melting for it once more, until he squeezed one of her arse cheeks in appreciation again while trying to bring her closer.
She pulled back and covered her mouth with the back of a hand. “N-no more,” she demanded with panted breaths, realising she’d begun trembling with rekindled desire. “I need rest. I need sleep.”
The sun was shining, and she hadn’t slept all night. She didn’t doubt she looked awful, likely with dark smudges under her eyes.
Ingram licked her palm since it was in the way, making it tickle. “Fine, little butterfly. I will let you rest.”
Every time he called her that, Emerie had the urge to squirm in self-consciousness. It was too big of a compliment for her to swallow.
He changed her position by slipping one arm under her knees, while the other supported her back. He also tilted to the side so his tail could slip forward and curl around her waist from between his thighs. He shuffled over to lean back against a tree not too far behind him so she could lie on top of him.
Emerie eyed the shadowy forest. “A-are you sure it’s safe for me to fall asleep here, even in the day? Wouldn’t it be best to find a sunny clearing?”
She really was alarmed by how close they were to the Veil now.
“Don’t worry, Emerie. I will protect you.”
He said that, but… “Won’t the Demons be able to smell me from a distance?”
She was a piece of bait, just ready to be eaten!
“They will not be able to smell you,” he stated. She didn’t know how that could be true, and she didn’t understand why he’d said it so genially – like he was filled with humour.
“How can you be so sure?”
He finally chuckled, and she still couldn’t believe how much she adored the sound of it. “Because, Emerie, you do not smell like a human.” He affectionately brushed the smooth curve of his beak underneath her jaw. “If I was not so close to you, I doubt I would be able to smell you past my seed.”
Oh. My. God! She covered her face as she whined and buried into the side of his chest. I’m so covered in Duskwalker cum that not even Demons can smell me.
I need a bath so badly.
“Are you sure about this?” Emerie asked, kneeling on Ingram’s back while he was in his more monstrous form.
It still wasn’t super comfortable, but she was getting used to riding him like this. She’d figured out if she sat just a little further up his back where his bigger spikes were, she could slot her pelvis between them. Honestly, it’d been an accident from when she climbed onto him – she’d been planning to re-adjust like usual, but then discovered she didn’t need to.
She trailed her gaze away from the back of his raven skull and small goat horns to look at the descending path he was taking.
Bright sunshine bathed them and the Veil’s canyon wall in protective light. The rocky path was wide enough to just fit his massive, hulking body, but it was a steep decline. She had to lean back on straightened arms or she worried she’d roll forward right off him.
“The swamplands are the quickest way,” Ingram answered, his voice deeper and more distorted than usual.
The inhuman way his voice reverberated, like it was split into three different levels of bass, used to make her skin crawl. Now, though, it made pleasurable goosebumps prickle all over.
“Yes, you said that,” Emerie croaked, her throat thick from the way her body reacted to his voice. “But is it the safest?”
While she waited for his response, she warily eyed the forest creeping closer with every step down Ingram took.
She wasn’t sure if it was justified paranoia or not, but she swore she could feel a set of red eyes hungrily watching them. She tightened her Demonslayer hood over her head, hoping it was enough to hide she was human. Her uniform was stained in streaks of dirt and dried Duskwalker cum, and at first, she’d been utterly grossed out by having to wear it.
The closer she got to hell on Earth, though, the more thankful she was that it might be hiding her scent. Who cared if it was spunk when it could save her life?
It took her a while to notice that Ingram wasn’t answering her.
Her brows drew together and her lips tightened underneath her mask. “Ingram, is it the safest?” she repeated.
“Nowhere is safe,” he bit out with a huff, turning his skull so he could look at her from the side. “The swamplands are one of the most dangerous parts of the Veil.”
Gripping two spikes on the back of his shoulders, she tugged. “Then stop. Let’s find another way.”
He shook his head. “We cannot. The creatures that linger in there… they are no ordinary Demons.” He faced his skull forward to watch where he was going. “However, other Demons are also afraid of them. I don’t know if it is safer, Emerie. I know I can fight against one Demon, but I have… I have already learned that I cannot win against a horde of them.” Once more, he glanced at her by flashing the side of his raven skull. Blue orbs, filled with sadness and loss, were bright even in the sunlight. “I worry that if I take you any other way, we will be overrun, and if I get separated from you, I may not be able to save you.”
“Damnit,” she muttered under her breath, palming the side over her mostly covered face. She squeaked when he dipped and she had to right herself. “What are we going to do if we find ourselves in a fight? I don’t have any weapons besides my dagger.”
She hadn’t put her weapons belt back on before the female Duskwalker stole her, and he hadn’t thought to pick it up – only her bag.
“Just stay low, stay quiet, and hold on tight. Hopefully we will not need to fight. The swamp Demons mostly leave us alone. If they try anything, I will run in order to protect you.”
She narrowed her eyes into a tight glare, her lips thinning with them. He could avoid the ugly truth, but she needed to be prepared for anything that might come her way.
“Yes, but if a fight does happen, I’ll be in the Veil, Ingram. Not only will I be surrounded by Demons, but you might turn on me. I’ll be a sitting duck.”