Dagrun was closer to the door, talking in that unfamiliar language to Nechtan the water-man and hairy Henry and Roshanak the Middle Eastern lady who looked like a spectacularly beautiful human with no strangeness visible. She remembered the feel of Henry’s fingers between her legs, how she’d stood obediently still to let him look and touch, and felt heat again—heat in her cheeks, as he grinned at her, but heat much lower, too, and it spread like wildlife.
She offered the tray to Dagrun.
“Thank you, little one.” Dagrun set her empty cup delicately on the tray and took one of the full ones. “I didn’t even need to ask.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced around for Sigrun, found her a short way off, and started in that direction. The white giant had moved forward in her seat and had her knees parted; Flair was kneeling between them, and while Sigrun’s massive thighs largely blocked the view, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the girl was licking her. Enthusiastically.
What was it like, having that kind of contact with another woman? she wondered. What would another woman taste like? What would it feel like even with a human woman, let alone a giant who was possibly twice her height?
She was straight, she didn’t think things like that!
That was followed promptly by the other thoughts. She was allowed to. If those questions created images that fed the heat, that was okay. She wasn’t supposed to feel bad about feeling good.
Flair was so intent on what she was doing that she didn’t even look up when Jewel approached. Jewel held out the tray, waiting while Sigrun finished what she was saying to tree-like Taiki and eagle-winged Zipporah and noticed her.
“Mm, good. Talking is drying, and it’s warm in here.” She swapped empty cup for full, and reached down with her other hand to stroke Flair’s hair and down her back. Flair arched into it like a cat.