The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,48
he rumbled out in that deep, three tongued, stilted way of speaking of his. Cocking his head, eyeing me, his hand turned and he cupped my face in his palm. Leaning in, he sniffed at my head. A snuffling chuff left him, and then that churring coo of a purr started up and he rubbed his cheek along the other side of mine.
Even if I was relieved he was claiming I was safe with him, I was still squirming with unmet needs from the Krampus bites littering my body. Like the adrenaline keeping me alert and moving freely was the only thing keeping me upright, I felt every biting sting and oozing wound, big bruises and small as of yet to show, as the fear spike from it all ebbed.
I never thought I’d be fighting my body like this, desperately trying to ignore it all, vacillating between unreasonably horny and physically hurting beyond reason. As if to top off this crap cake, I could feel my milk once more coming in. Awesome, just what I needed, topped off titties to ache all night long with the rest of me, and just refill right back up if I tried to manually drain them, because magical Krampus crap was shit!
“Not to be a sick fuck or sound like a perv,” I mumbled as my gaze fell, “but you wouldn’t happen to, uh,” my hand lifted weakly, gesturing from his mouth and the terrifying lower jawed tri-split it sported, and these titties, “be interested in, uh…” Nope. I couldn't bring myself to invite him to help a gal drain the jugs, not with that mouth. “I’m cold,” I said instead.
“Hunman brrrr,” he grumbled, green eyes lightening as he nodded once. Garbling out a string of beastly gibberish I took to assume it either didn’t matter I wasn’t aware of what he was saying, he’d forgotten who he was talking to and my lack of three tongues to even try to begin to repeat any of that, or it was to soothe him or me, maybe both. “Brr no,” he said suddenly, slowly, then scooped me up as he had once before and bounded towards the mini pool. I wasn’t ready when he walked to the edge, mimed sucking in air to hold it, and jumped right in. A shriek left me and then we hit the water and I was screaming beneath it. It was hot, almost too hot. My hands flailed, then grabbed at him. When I had my hands fisting the longer fur on his back, by his shoulders, he released me, leaving me to cling to him, to kick his way back to the surface.
A shocked gasps left me as we resurfaced. My hair was all over the place, plastered to me, in my face, stuck under my arms, clinging to my back. A thick hand brushed my soggy locks out of the way, green eyes studying me with a curious look when I spluttered incredulously.
He looked so oddly puppy-like in that moment I couldn’t help but laugh. A grin so wide it began to show the seam where his tri-split mouth opened began to show. At the sudden panicked look on my face as I felt all the blood drain from my bean, his smile fell but his eyes remained puppy dog happy twinkling.
“Baumbel,” he said with a grunt and lift of his chin, tipping his head to show me his throat as a whirring chirr filled it, rattled. Exposing the loose skin all that fur helped hide, he kept this up. Turning, short, stubby pointed ears cocked as he kept one eye on me.
Like the blue crystals lining the inside of the mountain, tiny little spots along his neck and curling around his ears lit up.
As I sat there clinging to him, shaking, trying to ignore things that were making themselves known as he kicked his legs to keep us afloat, jostling us, with me rubbing up on him, my legs locked onto a seriously thick waist, I glanced around in amazement. No pain. Discomfort, yes, but no more pain. Taking stock of my person, my eyes widened. Not a single fresh puncture. They were there, yes, but where they’d been red and tender, bleeding, the flesh was now an off white and blessedly pain free. Wriggling around a little, then regretting it, wincing as my clit rubbed his furry belly, I had a different kind of pain riding me.