I Want To Lay the Very Best!

388 – No Need to Exceed

The night had cooled, but Calcine still radiated warmth from deep within. Not just the natural heat of her body, though it was keeping Morgan nice and toasty, but a heat freshly stirred during their nighttime walk. The way Morgan had walked beside her, arm brushing her hip, voice teasing, and eyes bright. They'd talked the whole way but not about anything serious; the talk was just there as a pressure valve for the anticipation that crackled between them with every brush of feather against stone. They both knew what waited at the end of the walk and were savoring the buildup. Calcine had every intention of ruining this Murkrow in the most indulgent, drawn-out way possible. She was going to take Morgan apart one kiss at a time, press her down into soft sheets, and make sure she couldn't so much as flutter her arms by the end of the night.

Her hunger for this bird was so thick it was hard not to lean down and just take a bite. Spikemuth had some sound, solid walls that could withstand a Murkrow being pressed against them, and the only reason she wasn't testing their structural integrity right now was that Morgan wanted one last bit of fun. Being honorable didn't make the waiting any less agonizing. Calcine was still new to her Fire Typing and how it amplified her desires, which had always been carefully tempered before. She wanted more than just good sex lately. She wanted something torrid and consuming. To lick flame up against every nerve of her lover and coax out noises that their throat had never made before. She could feel that heat now, banked under her skin, rising higher with every sly glance Morgan cast her way. That teasing voice, those daring little touches of her ass, it all poured fuel into Calcine's core, and the restraint she'd been holding onto since they'd left the arena was starting to wear thin. She didn't just want Morgan tonight. She needed her. Every feather, every gasp, every soft noise she could pull out of that sharp little bird. Calcine was going to roast her alive but in the best possible way.

This new hunger was easy to explain. Calcine had finally said she loved Morgan.

The realization wasn't new; Calcine loved all her teammates, but actually saying it out loud was. Shaping the words and letting the other person know. That made the feeling hotter. Harder to contain. Morgan was infuriating and brilliant, sharp-tongued and impossibly soft in all the ways Calcine craved. Her sly little expressions, the way her feathers fluffed when she was flustered, the way she clung to Calcine's side like she belonged there, not letting the difference in size stop her from acting like she was in charge. It all made Calcine's heart ache. She wanted to ruffle those perfect feathers, leave bite marks where pale skin showed beneath black plumage, and feel Morgan squirm beneath her with every rough kiss.

Not long now. Calcine could hold on a moment longer.

"We're here," Morgan said. "Well, almost." Calcine looked up at the high-rise, its vast glass and steel exterior gleaming like a blade under moonlight. The structure loomed with sleek menace, stories upon stories vanishing into the misty sky, each window reflecting the city like fractured stars.

"We got to go high up?" Calcine said, trying to keep her voice level. She hated heights, but it wasn't as bad indoors. Still, the sight of a building she couldn't even see the top of made her stomach tighten in that specific, familiar way.

Morgan glanced up at her with a surprisingly warm look, then bumped her thigh gently with her hip. "It'll be worth it," she said softly. "You'll see. The view's amazing, and the company will be even better."

"I'm not going up there for the view."

"Oh yes, you are," Morgan smirked, "I know what you want to see tonight, and you're going to get an eyeful of it."

Tucked under Calcine's arm, Morgan was outlined in silver moonlight, her wide-brimmed witch's hat tilted at a jaunty angle. Her feathers were puffed with nervous excitement, and the way she pressed her free arm to her chest gave the cheeky illusion of exaggerated curves. Calcine didn't need the illusion; Morgan was already a sleek, sharp-edged delight, and she fit so naturally under Calcine's arm it felt like she'd always belonged there.

"You walk around naked all the time." Calcine snorted, voice thick with heat. "Seeing you in just your feathers and hat isn't special."

She stepped in close instead, eyes glittering. Then, with deliberate slowness, she slid her hand down the front of Calcine's tight pants and gripped her cock. The fabric did nothing to dull the pressure of her firm grip, and Calcine sucked in a sharp breath, her whole body tensing as Morgan gave her a slow, claiming squeeze.

Morgan held her gaze, her voice low and unwavering. "Performance is everything," she whispered. "When I perform, you're going to want to look at me."

Calcine's breath hitched, the burn in her chest flaring hotter. Her composure frayed beneath Morgan's touch, that promise ringing in her ears like a spell cast just for her. Her voice came out rough, unsteady, and tinged with raw want.

"Where do we need to go?"

"Top floor," she said, clearly relishing the words. "A very beautiful and kind fox is letting us use the place."

Calcine raised a brow. "You made a friend that quickly?"

Morgan blew Calcine a kiss. "Performance is everything," she repeated and pressed Calcine on through the building's lobby. Calcine couldn't help but notice all the receptionists were staring at her as they entered the lift, a sleek capsule of brushed black steel and golden trim. The doors shut with a sigh, not just from the machinery, and they both laughed at the reaction. As they began to ascend, the panel chimed in a polite tone.

"Weight exceeds optimal capacity. Adjust occupancy."

Calcine blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Morgan burst into laughter, wings shaking. "If we have to use the stairs because of your gigantic ass, I'm going to be furious."

"I'm not that big!" Calcine huffed, straightening up and nearly banging her head on the lift's ceiling panels. She tried not to let her wounded pride give her voice a whine. "I mean, for a Pokémon. There are plenty bigger."

"Calcine," Morgan said dryly, pressing a hand to the thick curve of her thigh, "I'm literally hugging a thigh the size of my waist. If you jumped, the shockwave might register on seismographs."

Calcine folded her arms with exaggerated patience. "Ladies like that. Tell the elevator to mind its tone."

The lift made a low groan as it climbed but continued to rise. Morgan grinned the whole way, which Calcine thought was very Sparky of her. She didn't ruin the moment by saying it.

When they finally arrived, Calcine followed Morgan through a narrow hallway to a tall, curved glass door. It opened with a soft whisper, and Calcine ducked through it and into a massive apartment that stretched out like a cathedral hall. The scent of something sharp and spiced hung in the air, and dim violet-blue candlelight flickered along the walls, casting dancing silhouettes against velvet drapes that spilled to the floor. Symbols embroidered in silver thread curled through the curtains like runes.

Calcine took it all in with a cautious eye. Morgan, by contrast, strolled in like she owned the place.

"Elira's out," Morgan said, with a tone that implied she had arranged it that way. "We've got the night."

"I don't even know who Elira is," Calcine said as she was pulled over to a seating area near a fireless hearth. Plush, inviting cushions were spread out in small piles for them to lie on, and a large duffel bag was waiting, with a little white note tucked into the straps. "Did she help you plan all this?"

"There was some collaboration, which she will be rewarded for," Morgan said, quickly scanning the note and smiling fondly before unzipping the duffel with dramatic flair. "Are you ready to be transformed?"

Calcine tilted her head. "Transformed into what?"

"Something worthy of bending this beautiful feathered ass over," Morgan purred. "Now sit down, I've got plans for you. I'm going to make you into a masterpiece."

"A masterpiece that's going to stuff enough dick in you that I knock your hat off?"

Morgan gave a theatrical gasp and smacked her hand against Calcine's chest. "Excuse you," she said with a sly grin, "this hat is an iconic part of my look. You'll show it respect."

She climbed into Calcine's lap with exaggerated grace and settled in with a wiggle of her hips. Calcine stiffened instantly, her breath catching as Morgan smiled sweetly up at her.

"Now be good and let me work," Morgan murmured, brushing her fingers up Calcine's sides. "Unless you'd rather skip straight to the part where you ride me so hard I forget how to talk?"

Calcine's hands twitched at her sides. Oh, she wanted that. Every part of her burned for it. The image alone nearly cracked her resolve in half. But she clenched her jaw and forced herself still. Morgan wanted to play, and Calcine wanted her to have her fun first. She wanted to be made irresistible.

Still, when Morgan settled into her lap with another coy little wiggle of her hips, Calcine had to shut her eyes a moment and breathe deep. She could feel the pressure of Morgan against her cock, soft but insistent, and it took everything she had not to buck her hips and pull her down hard.

"You're playing a dangerous game," she growled.

"Then be a good girl," Morgan whispered sweetly, "and for once, let me win it."