Chapter 75

A volcano could have erupted beneath his feet and Coop wouldn't have been able to do anything but sit down by her side. "You said you wanted to talk." He reached out and coiled a strand of silky auburn hair around his fingers. "Is that all you had in mind?" He sure hoped it wasn't. His cock was as hard as - well - as a tree trunk.
"No. It has been many years - many decades since I have been with a male. I would lie with you, if you'll have me." She looked down at her lap and even in the moonlight he could see the hint of a blush tint her ivory cheek.
"I would be honored," he said, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear and tipping her head up to his. "But I don't have any protection with me, and I have no idea if our species can - cross-pollinate."
She laughed at that, as he'd hoped she would, the teasing breaking the awkwardness between them. "Dryads are only fertile in the spring, at the same time as our trees. You need have no worries about such a thing. Although - if I were looking for a father for a child - I would have no reservations choosing you."
"Thank you, I think." He didn't even want to contemplate the gestation and birthing process for a tree nymph. Imagining trying to take a half-wolf, half-tree kid to a baseball game gave him the willies. As long as there was no worry about conception though, he was fine with the idea of making love to her. In fact, his body was doing a happy dance, his cock bobbing in his lap in anticipation.
"Do you have a mate, Cooper Marceski? Cubs, perhaps? I would not...poach from another female. That's the correct word, is it not? Sometimes I mistake human expressions."
"Poach is perfectly correct, but no, there's no one," he assured her. "My work takes up most of my time. I haven't even had a girlfriend since I moved to Washington."
"Good."
At that, he decided they'd talked enough. He leaned down and pressed his lips over hers.
Holy crap! It was the only thought his brain could manage once he'd tasted her. Leaves and moss and moonlight and magic and pure, raw sex all combined in her scent and her taste. Her soft-as-silk hands came up around his neck and her lips opened, inviting him inside.
His tongue drove deep, tasting her, seeking out every crevice and hollow, even as his hands closed around her back, smoothing along the soft skin of her spine, then around lush hips and up to cup the sides of her full, heavy breasts. Her arboreal roots aside, Kyra's figure wasn't the stick-thin type that was presently in fashion - she was built along the lines of a goddess, with plush, feminine curves to cushion a man during sex. There was nothing at all wooden about the soft, ripe mounds of her breasts that overflowed his hands or the sweet, generous globes of her ass. Her body was designed for pleasure, not speed, and Coop intended to take his time with it.
Meanwhile, Kyra's fingers had clamped down on his shoulders, her surprisingly strong hands holding him close. Her tongue skated along his then briefly took control, diving inside his mouth to taste and explore.
The spongy moss beneath them cushioned them perfectly as he pulled her with him to lie on their sides, their lips still fused. Coop inhaled through his nose, drinking in her scent even as he drank the taste of her from his mouth. An abstract part of his brain wondered if she even needed oxygen, or if she breathed carbon dioxide - or at all. When she slid her hand between their bodies to circle his cock, even that part of his brain stopped functioning. There was simply no blood left his skull at all. It had all fled south to create the biggest hard-on he'd had in his life.
Dragging his mouth away from hers, Coop kissed his way over to the shell of her ear, gratified when she let out a breathy moan. He played with her ear for a bit then continued his foray down to the column of her throat. This time she moaned his name, which he took as permission to keep going. He traced her collarbone, the upper curve of her breast, then licked his way down between them. Rolling slightly so Kyla was on her back and he was propped on one elbow above her, he gazed in awe at the feast before him for just a second before he circled one rosy nipple with his tongue.
"You're beautiful, Kyla. But I suppose, being a nymph, you know that."
Her smile was blinding. "I am glad you find me so," she said. "Beauty is a matter of taste, is it not? I have heard that American men prefer blondes."
"Not this one," he replied, giving her perky nipple a quick kiss. "I've always had a thing for redheads." Then he sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth so there was no further talking.
Kyla arched. The moss beneath her back conforming to her position for perfect support. That was the nice part about the sacred glade - the gods to whom it was dedicated considered sex a form of worship, and were perfectly content for it to be used as a trysting spot. So much so that the very ground reshaped itself to accommodate them. The softness of the ground beneath her was a sensuous contrast to the hardness of Cooper's body pressed so closely to her side.
As Cooper sucked on her nipple, she laced her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Her head fell back, but she couldn't even see the stars shining above them. For some reason her eyes refused to focus. She'd only done this a couple of times, usually during rituals, but it had certainly never felt like this before.