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Jioxa is no stranger to wild encounters - in fact, most of the time she’s the one initiating. But this has got to take the cake. She’s laying on the floor, on a soft makeshift bed of pillows. A paw the size of her body keeps her shaking thighs spread, digits ending in claws that dig just right into her flesh. He’s between her legs, technically, but more realistically he’s everywhere.
She’s thinking bad things. Things like how she’d probably fit into that mouth of his no problem, and how he could do anything to her right now, anything at all and she’d have no chance against him. How she’s stupid for putting herself in this position because, well, he’s going to be hungry after this. And most of all, how knowing all these things makes her cheeks burn hotter than ever.
The reasonable part of her mind knows he has zero intention to hurt her, and he’s firmly in control of himself. He’s her friend. She’s really in no danger. But she could be, and that to her is quite simply irresistible.
Ruárn lets out a quiet growl that vibrates through her body, and she closes her eyes. His head - as big as she is, she’s struggling to get over his sheer size - rests at her hips, his jaws parted around her lower half. His teeth prick her skin, enough to bruise but not cut. And his tongue is - well -
Every swipe along her soaked, aching pussy hits her clit. It’s hard to avoid it. But he never lingers long enough to give it the attention it deserves. He moves the tip of his tongue in deliberate but eager lines, his saliva mixing in with her natural wetness - of which there is aplenty. She’s wetter than she thinks she’s ever been, and it’s all for him. He flexes his hand on her thighs, spreading her legs as wide as he can.
And then - oh, gods - he slides his tongue inside her, just the tip, but it’s enough to pull a filthy moan from her lips. She squirms, grabbing at his wrist and clawing. He gives another rumbling growl, one she feels more than hears, and flexes his tongue inside her tight cunt. She whines again, blushing at how pathetic she sounds to her own ears, which are trembling.
His jaws close around her body, just a little, and she feels his teeth poking into her skin. Her core tightens at the sensation, bringing with it a reminder of how easily he could take her in, make her into a simple snack in a more literal way than he already is. There’s a kind of pride in knowing she could satisfy him in more ways than one, although she prefers this way - his tongue is still buried inside her, pressing up against that sweet spot with each powerful flex.
She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, as something shifts inside her and a new kind of pressure starts to build. She reaches down to give her poor clit some well-needed attention, feeling the hot wash of his breath over her hand. She rubs quick, unfocused circles, as Ruárn continues to lap at her, pressing his flexible, almost prehensile tongue deep inside her. She’s sopping wet, it’s going to soak the pillows, she doesn’t care. All she knows is the warmth of his maw and her own pleasure and -
Ruárn slips his tongue out, using it to push her tiny hand off her clit. She whines at the loss, but doesn’t have to mourn for long as he gets to work finishing her off. With the very tip of his tongue, he teases her most sensitive area, a low affectionate rumble in his chest. Before he’d been lapping at her like he was starved; now she’s so close and he’s achingly gentle. She feels herself blushing, the realization that for all intents and purposes her lower half is essentially in his mouth hitting her all over again. She doesn’t know when his hand left her thighs, but she’s too fucked-out to close them even if she wanted to, trembling too hard to do anything.
The warm wetness, the sheer size of him towering over her, and not least of all the lapping of his tongue - it’s all too much. She finally comes with a cry, tears pricking her eyes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It does little to muffle the noise. Ruárn hums in appreciation, pausing his ministrations on her overstimulated clit to let her work through her orgasm before moving to lap up the fresh, slick wetness it brought.
He takes his time, equal parts tasting the fruit of his labors and cleaning her up a little - all the while she lays limp, half in jaws that could snap her in two, panting and trembling. She can’t seem to focus her eyes, exhaustion hitting hard. And yet she wouldn’t have it any other way.
He gently pulls away from her, and her heart drops at the loss of his warm tongue. But she meets his eyes, dark but kind, and can’t help but smile a little. A shaky smile, but one she hopes portrays her gratitude nonetheless.
“That-” she breathes, shaking her head a little. “Was I good?”
He smiles down at her, ears perked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “The best little asura I’ve ever had.”