Xiva's claws lightly grazed the kelp blanket covering him.
Then—flick—she peeled it back, slow as a teasing tongue. No gasp. No words.
Just the low, knowing hum of a woman savoring a meal.
Her slitted golden eyes landed on his cock, twitching and half-hard from her mere presence. She crouched beside him, knees spread, breasts dangling as her scaled fingers hovered just inches above his length.
"Mmm," she purred, flicking her tongue out.
It was long. Too long. A sinuous, forked whip of glistening muscle that danced in the air—tasting him, even before touching.
She inhaled, nostrils flaring. "Warm... thick... full of life," she whispered, almost to herself.
Then, her hand wrapped around him—firm, textured, dragging the ridges of her scales up his shaft.
shlk... shlk...
Allen jerked, hips twitching upward into her grip. "F-Fuck—"
"You humans," she murmured, licking her lips. "So easy to wind up."
And she didn't waste another second.
