Chapter 7 #5
Cyrus moved away from her, only to let his hands slide beneath her shirt, feeling her bare skin.
His touch was firm. His thumbs grazed her breasts, and it made her stomach drop.
He moved down her body, hands still on her, and she grew perplexed as he kissed her navel, then burrowed beneath her large shirt.
"Cy, what—"
His lips wrapped around her nipple.
Rin moaned as he teased her with his skillful mouth. When he pulled away, a lewd wet noise resounded. He slid back down her shirt. When he sat up, his hair stuck up chaotically.
He moved to straddle her hips, his palms resting on her chest. The place where her shirt clung to her still-wet breasts made her shiver.
"I’m going to fuck you again. You have to come three times before I can." He said it matter-of-factly.
Her protests dissolved beneath his kisses.
She was gasping, her hands shoving at his shoulders so she could breathe. Finally, he broke away, stripping quickly, his bare skin sliding over hers.
Rin felt his heat through her shirt as she grazed her hands over his bare stomach and chest.
"I want to tear this off of you, but Rhyden would get mad."
Rin paused. "What do you mean?"
Cyrus tugged on the collar of her shirt. "This is Rhyden’s. I think he got mad you were wearing Lucien’s clothes and not his… I just remembered the others told me to let you rest. So if they come in, we can just pretend to be asleep."
Rin had whiplash. "Alright."
Darkness momentarily covered her vision as Cyrus pulled her shirt off. Cool air breezed over her pebbled nipples, teasing them into stiffer peaks. He groaned as he hooked his fingers in the edges of her panties and tugged them down her legs and over her feet, leaving her entirely bare below him.
Rin was aching. His hard length nudged her entrance as he held her thighs open. She moaned as he sank into her wetness. She was still unaccustomed to being stretched like this, but she was growing to love the slight twinge in her core and flutter behind her navel.
"You feel so good," Cyrus groaned. "I never want to leave you."
"Then don’t," she begged.
As he fed, the red glimmers in the air grew so bright her eyes watered.
It felt like having a thin needle inserted high up inside her, the plunger pulled back to slowly draw out her essence. The feeling somehow made the whole experience even more pleasurable. Because he was giving as well as taking.
Cyrus firmly circled the apex of his doll’s gorgeous thighs, right above where he was inside her, sending her hurtling into her first orgasm. He held himself still inside her as she rippled around him.
"That’s one," he purred, leaning down to nip at her delicate throat, knowing he was leaving bruises.
Cyrus didn’t stop kissing her, touching her, making her his. He wanted her to feel him between her legs for days, not be able to walk properly.
Every thrust into her made his lower stomach tighten with an impending release; he held it off by sheer force of will. She was so warm inside, so tight.
Vesperin made a soft little sound, one he knew too well. She was close.
She shattered with a cry of his name.
"Two," murmured Cyrus.
He ran the tip of his index finger over the space where she was stretched around him, pressing firmly. He felt her clench tight, as if afraid he’d try to push his finger in while his cock was still buried deep inside her.
He leaned down and whispered against her wet, swollen lips, "Three."
She came for the third time, pushing against his shoulders. "No more. It’s too much."
Cyrus kissed the tip of her nose and slowly withdrew.
His cock was hard and weeping. She was too gone to notice or care as he fisted himself.
It took only a few pumps before he came all over her heaving lower stomach.
A few droplets splattered on her pretty breasts, and they shone like pearls in the low light.
He dragged his fingers through it, spreading it up to her neck.
"There." Cyrus collapsed beside her, admiring the dazed, beautiful wreck of her. "A pretty necklace for my pretty doll." She started to reach for her neck, but he caught her wrist. "Don’t mess it up. It’s perfect. You’re perfect."
"What does it look like?" She bit her lip.
"Stay still." Cyrus was careful not to jostle her as he reached for her phone on the small bedside table, fumbling with the unfamiliar tech before the camera flashed.
He took several photos, unable to stop himself.
"Fucking look at you, doll. Art belongs in museums—but no one sees these. They’re just for me and you.
" He showed her the pictures, watching her already-pink cheeks grow a deep scarlet.
Vesperin shoved the phone away, tugging the rumpled sheet up to her chest and covering her pretty breasts.
The incubus sighed and gathered her close to his chest, pressing his face into her hair and just breathing her in. He knew she was already tired, but he couldn’t feel shame for what they’d done, even as she fell asleep within seconds.
Cyrus should tell her—he would tell her—but he didn’t want to break this sweet moment. It would be fine, he told himself.
His father’s guards couldn’t find him here.
But they already had.