Chapter 8
8
Vargr paused at the end of a stroke, buried deep inside Cyn. He was torn by the need to see her come and his need to fuck until completion, and also thinking about working his thumb into her octopus-decorated asshole. What a temptation. His lips twisted. Next time. He swiped away the sweat on his face and withdrew then thrust again, jamming himself as deep as possible, hearing her sweet cries. The collar on her neck made it easier to bite her shoulder, so he bit her there, tasting her as he fucked her. He drew himself upright, took a claw-hold on her hip and ass that would surely bruise, but she only tightened her pussy onto him and buried her face deeper in her forearms.
He smiled, filed away—that she liked some pain then he let the rhythm of sex dictate what it willed. Pistoning in, fucking her forward, he heard the shift and rattle of the chain on the floor and her frantic noises of pleasure and submission. Then she stilled and shuddered. The arch of her back deepened. She stiffened, choked out a noise.
The girl was coming.
The tight spasming of her pussy onto his cock sent him over the edge.
Jaw clamped, eyeballs straining, he penetrated her until they were indivisible, skin to skin, one creature. His cock seemed ready to burst and pulsed one, last… time. The roar of an orgasm thundered through him, and he stayed there a while, letting his balls empty into her, every last drop. A strange foreboding skittering in his bones attracted his attention but lessened and died. The walls shook with the roll of a heavy storm as he bowed over her, lifting her to him, stroking his hand down the front of her, cupping her breasts, squeezing and owning, one then the other. He gripped the top of her thigh.
“You came, didn’t you?” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, felt a final shudder take her that squeezed his cock.
Cyn paused in her panting, swallowed. “Yes.”
“That makes you mine for sure, seals that contract.” He was only half-joking. Next time he would make her come for him, maybe in front of him, and there would be a next time.
She didn’t answer but he lowered them both and lay on his side spooning with her, making himself familiar with the intimate feel of her skin, the warmth of her, her shape.
Mine . Never thought he’d feel this way about a female. But there it was.
It is the Lure . Mixed up with the sex.
He kissed between her shoulder blades and decided not to believe himself.
After a long silence only punctuated by their breathing, Cyn whispered, “Did you feel something?”
“Definitely.” Vargr chuckled.
“I mean something odd.”
“Like a disturbance in the force kind of odd?”
“I remember that saying. Yes.”
There had been something . “Like Armageddon is coming? Cue the shark music? That?”
Cyn shifted in his arms but didn’t answer.
This was a time of Ghoul Lords and the end of days, of people and animals crossed with nanomachines, all sorts of crazy shit. “We probably imagined it,” he said quietly.
Or it was something to do with the Lure and having sex in the middle of an ex-warehouse where every sound echoed. Which was when he saw the writing across her nape, in small black capitals: MAELSTROM INC , with two symbols above.
Gently, he ran his finger beneath the word, stirring the small hairs. Had he seen this before? He was certain he had.
Goosebumps sprang up on her skin. He smiled when she shivered.