His tail.
It had moved during the orgasm — the instinctive, responding coil of something that lived close to his instincts, tightening at her waist when her body shook and loosening now as she stilled.
Now it moved differently.
The tip of it, the narrower, more articulate end — the part that had been looped at her waist all this time — lifted. Traced up from her hip. Over the side of her ribs. To her chin.
Found her lips.
Dara looked at the tail tip at her mouth.
She looked at Viktor's face.
"Suck it," he said.
The tone was the same tone he had used for every other instruction tonight: mild, patient, entirely certain that the instruction would be followed.
She looked at the tail.
The strange, smooth, warm surface of it — not skin exactly but something adjacent to skin, the particular texture of something that was part of him and carried the same warmth his body carried.
She looked at his cock.
Still hard.
Still pressed against her thigh.
She opened her mouth.
