Chapter 66 Enough.

Chapter 66: 66 Enough.

She wasted no time.

Rhea’s clever fingers found the zipper of my pants and dragged it down with a slow, deliberate rasp.

The moment the fabric parted, the thick length of me sprang free, heavy and already half-hard from the way she’d been nuzzling it.

Her eyes went wide. The brown dog ears on her head twitched once, then flattened slightly as she stared.

"Holy fucking shit," she breathed.

She didn’t touch it at first. Just sat back on her heels and looked, like she’d just been handed a particularly rare component.

Her pupils were blown wide, animal-narrow slits gone soft with hunger.

She tilted her head left, then right—looking at my cock like it was alive—studying the way the veins stood out along the shaft, the way the head was already flushed dark and glistening at the tip.

"Miles..." Her voice had dropped into that low, almost reverent register. "You are packing."

I snorted, but the sound came out strained. "You’re staring like it’s going to bite you."

"It might." She leaned in closer without touching, breath hot against the sensitive skin. "Look at the girth on this thing. I could wrap both hands around it and still have room. And the length—fuck, it’s almost unfair. Most guys are either long or thick. You went and decided to be both."

Her tongue flicked out, just the tip, and dragged a slow, wet line from the base all the way up the underside.

The contact was feather-light, almost clinical, like she was testing something, and I could do nothing but have my hands hover above her head.

A full-body shiver ran through me. She made a soft, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat and did it again, slower this time, tracing every ridge and vein with the flat of her tongue as if she were mapping them for later.

"Mmm. Taste is clean. Skin’s hot. Pulse is strong right here—" she pressed the tip of her tongue against the thick vein that ran along the bottom "—and here."

Another slow lick, higher this time, circling the flare of the head. "God, the way it jumps when I do that. Sensitive crown. Classic."

I dug my fingers into her messy hair, careful of the ears. "Rhea—"

"Shh. I’m working down here." She grinned up at me, canine teeth flashing, then opened her mouth wider and took just the head between her lips.

The wet heat of her was sudden and perfect. She didn’t suck yet. Just held me there, tongue swirling lazily around the ridge, tasting, learning.

A soft hum vibrated through the contact, and my hips twitched forward involuntarily.

She pulled off with a soft pop, a thin string of spit connecting her lower lip to the tip. "Definitely thicker than I expected. Stretching my jaw already and I’ve barely taken any of it." She sounded delighted rather than concerned. "Bet I could fit the whole thing if I tried hard enough. Or maybe not. Maybe you’d just wreck my throat trying."

The mental image hit me hard. I exhaled through my teeth.

Rhea went back to work, this time with more purpose.

She licked long, thorough stripes from base to tip, coating every inch in shiny saliva.

Her hands finally came up—one wrapping around the lower half of the shaft, fingers not quite meeting, the other cupping my balls with surprising gentleness.

She rolled them slowly while her tongue worked, occasionally dipping lower to lick there too, then returning to the main event like she couldn’t stay away.

"Look at how it throbs," she murmured against the side of it, lips brushing the skin. "Every time I squeeze a little, it kicks. Like it’s got a mind of its own. And the head—fuck, Miles, it’s so fat. I could just sit here and suck on this part alone for an hour."

I couldn’t.

She demonstrated, taking the glans into her mouth again and sealing her lips just past the ridge.

This time she did suck, cheeks hollowing slightly, tongue pressing and flicking against the underside.

My free hand braced against the edge of a workbench. The other stayed buried in her hair.

She pulled off again, breathing a little harder now, lips shiny. "I keep thinking about how this is going to feel when you finally shove it in. Whether it’s my mouth or somewhere else. The stretch alone..."

She gave the shaft a slow stroke with her fist, twisting on the upstroke the way I’d always liked, even though I’d never told her. "And you’re still getting harder. How is that even possible? You’re already fucking massive."

Well, I’m done with this bullshit.

I couldn’t take much more of the slow, admiring treatment.

Every careful lick, every thoughtful comment, was winding me tighter.

The exhaustion from the day, the residual thrum of power still humming under my skin, the fact that this particular mad-scientist dog-girl was on her knees treating my cock like the most fascinating piece of tech she’d ever seen—it all stacked up.

"Rhea." My voice came out rough.

She glanced up, still stroking, still licking absently at the tip between words. "Hmm?"

"Enough studying."

Her ears perked. A wicked little smile curved her mouth. "Getting impatient, bossman?"

I answered by tightening my grip in her hair and pushing forward.

She opened for me immediately, like she’d been waiting for exactly that.

The head slid past her lips, over her tongue, and deeper. I didn’t stop at the comfortable point.

I kept going until I felt the soft resistance of her throat, then pushed through it.

Rhea’s eyes watered almost instantly. A choked sound vibrated around me, but she didn’t pull back. Her hands braced against my thighs instead, claws pricking lightly through the fabric of my pants.

I held her there for a second, buried deep, feeling the tight flutter of her throat around the intrusion.

Then I pulled back just enough for her to drag in a wet, desperate breath before thrusting in again.

The careful admiration was gone. I fucked her mouth in long, steady strokes, using the grip on her hair to set the pace.

Every time I bottomed out she made that same broken little noise, spit starting to leak from the corners of her stretched lips and drip down her chin onto the floor.

Her ears were flat against her head now, but her eyes—those sharp amber eyes—stayed locked on mine, glassy and hungry.

I picked up the pace. The wet, filthy sounds of it echoed off the metal and concrete of the lab.

Rhea took it, throat working around me, occasionally gagging when I pushed particularly deep, but always recovering, always opening up again for the next thrust.

One of her hands left my thigh to slip between her own legs, rubbing frantically under the short skirt of whatever she was wearing beneath the utility jacket.

"Fuck," I gritted out. "That’s it. Take it."

She moaned around the mouthful, the vibration shooting straight up my spine.

I could feel myself getting closer, the tight wet heat of her throat and the sight of her on her knees, grease-stained and drooling and completely focused on swallowing every inch I gave her, pushing me right to the edge.

I pulled almost all the way out, letting her gasp and cough once, spit stretching between her swollen lips and my cock.

Then I shoved back in to the hilt and held her there, grinding shallowly against her face while the orgasm hit.

Thick pulses of it flooded her throat. She swallowed convulsively around me, eyes rolling a little, tears tracking down her cheeks. I kept her pinned until the last aftershock faded, then finally eased back.

Rhea stayed on her knees, breathing hard, chin and neck shiny with spit and the excess that had leaked out.

She licked her lips slowly, then looked up at me with a dazed, satisfied grin, one canine still visible.

"Specimen thoroughly tested," she rasped, voice wrecked. "Wow."

I huffed a tired laugh and stroked one of her ears. It flicked under my fingers.

"Get the octoporian dismantled," I said. "Then we’ll talk about round two."

She beamed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and pushed herself to her feet on shaky legs. "How bout round two now and I get it down before the morning?"