Chapter 211: My Tail Came Out Mid-Stroke***

Chapter 211: Chapter 211: My Tail Came Out Mid-Stroke***

Giselle’s apartment was nothing like the temporary suite or the guild overflow rooms.

The door sealed behind us with an expensive hush.

Lights rose automatically to a warm, low level.

The main living space alone was nearly twice the size of Gianna’s entire place in Sector 7.

I counted doorways while she shrugged off her overcoat and hung it with precise care.

Six rooms.

"You own this whole place?"

"It’s small."

"...It’s not small. How many people stay here?"

"Only me."

"Then why are there six rooms?"

[Maybe she wants to fuck you in all of them. Thorough girl.]

"Can you shut up?"

The words left my mouth at full volume.

I froze.

Giselle froze.

She turned slowly, red eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"I wasn’t talking to you."

"Yeah. Weirdo."

"I’m not."

I crossed the space between us before she could decide to slap me again.

My shirt came off and landed somewhere behind me.

Cool air hit bare skin.

I traced the line of her arms from shoulder to wrist, feeling the faint raised marks my chains and mouth had left the night before.

She didn’t pull away.

"You brought me here."

"I did."

"...For what?"

I lowered my head and kissed the side of her neck, slow, open-mouthed.

Giselle tilted her head to give me more room.

Her pulse beat against my tongue.

"To ask you questions."

"Questions?"

My hand slid under the hem of her top, found her bare waist, then climbed.

Hot skin, the underslope of her breast, the already-tight peak of her nipple.

I cupped her fully.

A short tremor ran through her body.

"You’re horny," she said, voice lower than before.

"I always am."

I rolled her nipple between my thumb and finger and felt her breath catch.

Her head dropped onto my shoulder.

One hand came up, fingers threading into the hair at my nape, gripping hard enough to sting.

"You’re trying to steal again."

"No. Not steal. Give."

I turned her so her back met my chest.

She reached behind her, found the hem of my remaining undershirt, and yanked it up and off with zero patience.

Bare skin met bare skin.

I dragged her top the rest of the way over her head and let it fall.

No bra.

Her breasts sat full and heavy in the low light, pale against the darker tone of my hands when I covered them again.

Giselle made a small sound and pushed her ass back against me.

The hard line of my cock nested into the curve of her. She ground once, deliberately.

"Bed," she ordered.

"Which room?"

"Any room. Your choice."

I walked her backward toward the nearest open doorway.

It turned out to be the primary bedroom: wide bed, dark sheets, city light leaking through half-closed blinds.

She turned in my arms, kissed me like she was still angry about the voice, and shoved my pants down far enough to free my cock.

"You haven’t told me everything."

Her hand wrapped around the shaft, stroked once from base to tip, and spread the wetness already gathering there.

"I will tell you... one by one."

"Still claiming you’re only giving?"

"I’m optimistic."

She laughed against my mouth, the sound sharp, then pushed me onto the bed and climbed after me.

Pants and underwear disappeared in a brief, impatient struggle.

When she straddled my hips, her pussy was already slick.

She rubbed the length of me between her folds once, twice, coating me, then reached down, notched the head, and sank.

The heat of her took the air out of my lungs.

Giselle didn’t go slow this time.

She took me to the base in two rolling motions, palms braced on my chest, white hair falling forward around both our faces.

The fragment of her core under my ribs flared bright and possessive.

I gripped her waist and thrust up to meet her.

"Fuck—"

"That’s the idea," she muttered, and started to move in earnest.

The rhythm she set was deep and demanding.

"You’re being—God—"

Every downward stroke forced me against the spot that made her thighs tighten. I

sat up, wrapped an arm around her back, and mouthed at her breasts while she rode me.

She held my head there, fingers hard in my hair, breathing broken against the top of my skull.

"...Harder."

I gave her harder.

The shift of angle dragged a raw sound out of her throat.

I flipped us without pulling out, pinned her thighs open with my knees, and drove into her with the full weight of the new strength the class had built.

Giselle’s hands scrambled for the sheets, then for my shoulders, nails biting crescents into skin. Her cunt clenched in tight, rhythmic waves.

"Revien— don’t you dare stop—"

"Wasn’t planning to."

I fucked her through the first orgasm and straight into the climb toward the second. Sweat slicked both of us.

The wet sound of her body taking me filled the quiet apartment.

She came again with a broken, angry moan, inner muscles milking me so hard I had to lock my jaw to keep from following.

I slowed, not stopped, and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Still only questions?"

"Shut up and move."

I moved.

Time blurred into heat and friction and the sharp, perfect way she said my name when I hit the right depth. I

hooked one of her legs higher, changed the angle, and watched her eyes go distant and bright.

The voice inside my head stayed unusually quiet, as if even she understood that interrupting now would be a special kind of suicide.

I was close.

Giselle was shaking under me again, closing herself, one hand braced against the headboard. I leaned down to bite the side of her throat—

The tail lashed out.

It tore free from wherever the class kept it hidden, black and sleek and crowned with those new small horns, and cracked against the air like a whip.

The tip smacked the headboard hard enough to leave a dent.

[SKILL: NEEDLE-WHIP TAIL — ACTIVATE]

Both of us froze mid-thrust.

Giselle’s eyes went huge.

"What the fuck?"

[Hehehe.]