43
Jeryn
Make love to her. As though I knew how. As though I would succeed. She whispered with conviction, knowing what she deserved and somehow believing me capable of giving it to her.
I had fucked Flare before, but I had not done this. The request dismantled every bit of knowledge I had ever cultivated. Not for the first time, I found myself on the precipice of uneven terrain. Once more with my little beast, I didn’t know how to accomplish something.
My muscles tensed. Fuck, I was … nervous.
Yet like a thousand times before, her touch persuaded me to try. What she wanted, I would seek out. Anything she wanted, I would give. Disappointing this woman was not an option.
The vivid blue water glittered. Bubbles rushed to the surface, foaming against her skin.
Recalling every time Flare had brushed through my hair, caressed my jaw, and glazed her mouth over mine, I used those memories as guides. Easing my grip on her waist, I dragged my thumbs over her hipbones.
Flare’s eyelids fluttered, restoring my confidence. With each respiration, our wet bodies siphoned together. Her breasts inflated into my chest, the contact agitating my blood.
Skimming my palms under the dress, I raised the material, peeling it up her body. The slow progression compromised our breathing. By the time she extended her arms, and I whisked the sodden garment over her head, our exhales were in tatters.
Her cinched nipples peaked above the water’s surface, the sweet thatch of her pussy nudged my cock, and her naked throat glistened. The makings of a growl stoked low in my throat. Tacking my gaze to hers, I seized her waist and walked us backward.
Her fingers fell to the front clasps of my pants. My dick shoved against the garment, my sac throbbing. While sweeping her mouth over mine, Flare picked open the closures and spread the flaps.
My ruddy cock lifted from the material, the torrid water licking my flesh. Flare whimpered as she strapped her digits around the base, encasing me in her grip and rolling up and down. Everlasting shit. The tip grew so broad that I hissed into her lips, making them quirk.
Wanting to feast on that grin, I sauntered forward. Water sloshed over the rim as Flare’s ass hit the edge. A puff of air vacated her lips, and she let go of my distended cock. With my frame pressing Flare into the spring, I released her waist and pushed the pants down. She watched, her gaze bright as I stepped out of the garment and flung it to who-the-fuck-knew-where.
With a sigh, the beast captured me, her arms linking around my shoulders. She could not see my cock, as I could not see her cunt. Yet beneath the depth, we felt both.
Rubbing. Tormenting.
I’d grown as firm as iron, and she had become as drenched as the sea. We flattened ourselves together, the better to feel it, to know it. Despite the times I had made her come, some manner of clothing had always stayed on, wedged between our skin, separating us. Tonight, we shed those obstructions.
Wholly naked. Skin on skin.
I relished the stimulation, the profound sensation of her body heating my own. Then I sought more. Summoning additional patience, I let my fingers roam.
Beneath the spring, the pads of my digits traced her outer thighs. Flare shivered, her hands diving into my hair. Encouraged, I ghosted my touch to the ovals of her ass, spanning and kneading the swells. Such an expansive shape for such a tiny figure. She carried it magnificently.
I hummed, learning what my hands did to the beast, committing to memory how she flushed while being idolized.
Taking the afforded time, I slid my palms up the ladder of her vertebrae, then down again. Circling to her pussy, I rasped, “Spread them.”
Nodding, Flare split her limbs. With an appreciative groan, I crooked my digits and rowed an index finger along the crevice, which leaked onto my skin. Her head flung back, and her mouth opened, a frail moan filtering into the canopy.
Hard as a rock, I ascended to the peg of skin rising from her center, the clit swollen and delicate. My thumb patted the flesh, the pressure light and coaxing as more whines fell from the pit of Flare’s throat.
That glorious, unmarked throat.
Uttering a hoarse noise, I tucked my head into the corner of her neck. My mouth plied her with open kisses, my tongue swiping over where the tattoo collar had disappeared. And Flare dissolved, sagging in my arms.
While I devoured her pulse point, my fingers wandered. Combing through the hair of her pussy. Traveling across her stomach. Climbing her sternum. While sucking on her neck, I pinched her nipples and stroked her tits, then ran my hands along her arms.
Fern trees slumped overhead, their branches hanging like tassels. Steam from this bath coiled into the air, eventide having descended fully.
I lapped my tongue, kissing her throat the way I kissed her mouth. My lips folded over her skin and tugged. Meanwhile, I edged my fingers along her wrists and the curve of her waist.
She liked this. Her thighs inched wider, demonstrating as much. My little beast enjoyed being sampled like a vixen, catered to like an empress. Further proof of this oozed from her cleft and smeared the ledge of my cock.
The gap of her legs bade me entrance, my hips slipping between them. Yet I needed her wetter. As I had often taught myself, I could do better.
So much better.
I tracked every sigh like a hunter, tested every inch of flesh like an experimenter. With a subtle growl, I dragged my mouth down her throat. There, I skated my incisors across her clavicles.
Flare bowed into me, her grip on my scalp tightening. “Oh,” she whined.
“Like this?” I crooned against her. “Is this good?”
She nodded. And so I rode my teeth across her collarbones, then licked into the basin. “And this?”
In response, her fingernails bit into my skull, and my mouth slanted. “Tell me,” I demanded. “Show me.”
As I lifted my head, Flare dropped her disoriented gaze to mine. She clung to me, the confession tremulous on her tongue. “I don’t … I don’t know everything I like.” Her hands fell to my cheekbones. “Only the things I’ve felt with you.”
My retinas burned. From his grave, I would raise the man who’d fucked her while caged, then snap each of his bones for failing to please her, for seeking only his release and disregarding her need for respite. If the effects had not lasted, he hadn’t been doing it right.
But I fucking would. Seething internally, I gave a languid jut of my cock against her soft pussy. The brunt caused her mouth to fall open.
I spoke into her lips, quoting her earlier suggestion. “Let us find out.”
The front of her body had been tended to. That left the rest.
I wheeled her around. Filaments of mist writhed into the air, and the water rippled with our movements. Anticipation magnified her exhalations, her chest pitching into the spring’s rim.
First, I nibbled on her ear while skating my palms down her arms. “Teach me when you enjoy it.” Lifting those arms up and behind, I threaded her fingers over my nape. “And say it.”
Again, she bobbed her head. There was a time when Flare had questioned how I understood what she said, even with her face turned away. By now, she knew.
I heard everything.
My thumbs kneaded her shoulders, loosening the kinks. Pressure. Anatomy. Pacing. These things, I knew well.
Flare sighed as I massaged her deeply, the back of her scalp lulling onto my shoulder. Grinning to myself, I rolled my knuckles down to the scapulas, then to her tailbone.
The head of my cock broadened. Her relaxed moans did this, as did the sweep of her ass into my pelvis.
“That,” she heaved. “I like that.”
Good. So very good.
I flexed my fingers against her until she became boneless. Stroking her hips. Stroking the pleat of her cunt. Stroking the top of her clit. Stroking the backs of her knees. I ministered to every contour.
“There,” she encouraged. “I like it there.”
How I favored instruction. How I appreciated candor.
Flare was wrong. She knew a lot about what she liked.
Doctors preferred using tools, but without any at my disposal, I sought an alternative. Reaching overhead, I picked a leaf with a slender, white tip that contrasted marvelously with her complexion.
I rushed its point across her mouth, along her jaw, down the profile of her body. Flare gave a surprised gasp. Intrigue filled the sound, the stimulation plying her with goosebumps.
Tilting my head, I glimpsed her eyelids falling shut. She bent into me, her buttocks rocking against my dick. I sucked in air but resisted the urge to thrust. The leaf quivered over her waist, over the split of her buttocks, and under the water.
Chuffing into her ear, I inquired, “This?”
Tucking the stem between her thighs, I caressed the lips of her pussy. To which, Flare mewled, “Yes.”
The entreaty sent a bolt of heat to my cock. I swabbed her with the stem, its plumelike tip etching the folds, sketching the shape of her clitoris until I imagined it swollen.
She would be dilated. She would be dripping and hollow.
Abrasive moans spilled from her lungs. Her wild pulse rammed into my own.
Reaching in front of her, I gripped the spring’s ledge with one hand, desperate to restrain myself. To prolong this. To savor this. But for good measure, I sank my mouth into her shoulder and sucked, wringing another yelp from Flare.
With my free hand, I brushed her cunt raw. As I did, she swiveled her waist, riding the leaf until she was shaking.
The momentum never altered. It remained gradual. With each leisurely pass, Flare’s temperature escalated.
Intoxicated, I listened as her moans shredded into the night. The sounds increased, and her joints quaked, the impending climax wracking her body. Like a cord pulled taut, my little beast strained herself into the motions, bucking her lips while I caressed her pussy with the stalk.
She stalled. Then she broke into a fit of convulsions, her slit pouring onto the leaf while she came.
I heard and felt her pleasure down to the bone. My cock doubled in size, along with that pounding vital organ in my chest.
“That’s it,” I praised against the side of her throat. “Just like that.”
No sooner did Flare collapse, than I snatched her chin and twisted her lips up to mine. “Now give me one more.”
She would come again. Longer this time.
Breathless, Flare crushed her lips to my own. I fused us together, latching our mouths and pumping us into a lengthy kiss. Prying the seam wide, I flexed my tongue with hers, feeding on the remnants of her orgasm.
One of her palms abandoned my scalp to rest on my profile. Groaning, I put all my strength into the kiss, spearing my tongue. I could take her in a thousand ways, with a million tools, and it would never suffice.
Even now, it did not. Winter hadn’t finished with Summer yet. It could not, should not, would fucking not end with a leaf. She wanted her villain prince to make love to her, and I meant to exceed that request. Indeed, I would make her rapture my life’s work.
With my lips clamped to Flare’s, I chucked aside the stem and licked into the heat of her. My palms cupped her tits, the nipples ruching. Flare keened into my mouth, her pleasure vibrating down my throat.
Pinning her to the spring, I nudged my waist into the split of her thighs. With eager motions, Flare scissored her limbs farther and arched her ass. A jagged sound fled my lungs, my hands seizing her hips and positioning her.
My heart hammered into my chest. Volatile sex, we had perfected. This was something else.
Terrifying. Alluring.
I peeled my mouth from Flare’s and urged her forward, bending her at a slight angle. Hunching over, I nestled my hips, the pome of my cock primed at her entrance. Fucking hell, the folds of her pussy emitted warmth and wetness, still glossy from the aftermath of her first climax.
My mind ceased to exist. In its place, something visceral, instinctive, and evocative took over.
Setting my hands on her hips, I angled Flare’s entrance. Then in a single, fitful, prolonged slide, my cock pitched between her folds. One inch, then another, then another. At which point, I lost the ability to keep track.
We gasped. And gasped. And fucking gasped.
My cock opened Flare, her spread pussy clamping around my length, slathering my flesh in her arousal. Pivoting higher, I accessed a narrow point that turned her gasp into a cry.
Hitting that place, I groaned. I had missed this so fucking much.
Encased in the hot grip of her cunt, I swung my hips back, exiting her to the tip and then pistoning again. The friction wrung me out, depleting me of air, sweat bridging across my skin.
With slow lunges, I severed her thighs apart and struck that tapered place inside her. Repeatedly. Softly. Using my knees, I applied all the leverage I had into every languid pump.
Flare tightened around me, spilled around me. Pleas tumbled from her mouth, each one cracking on a moan.
“More,” she beseeched.
And so I went deeper, sinking my dick to the brim. She bucked her ass, whisking it against me, joining the rhythm. Together, we rocked back and forth, achieving a new depth.
A growl skidded from my tongue. “Watch your world,” I encouraged. “Watch this forest as it watches you.”
Flare stared ahead to where the trees towered, their leaves phosphorescent. Predatory noises roared from a remote place. Condensation laminated the grass and slickened our bodies, which enhanced the motions. With her muscles relaxed, I siphoned even deeper, my cock fluid inside her.
I groaned, my head fogging as she squeezed me to the sac. My beast fixated on the wild and sobbed aloud. For my ears only, the octave increased with each patient lash of my cock.
Eddies fluxed across the spring. Suds launched to the surface.
My body mirrored the needs of her own, Flare’s ass swiveling with mine. Rather than increase momentum, our hips locked, grinding steadily, leisurely.
I could stay like this forever. I could drown in her wet body. I could sink with her and never resurface.
Let her pleasure fill the recesses. Let her voice dominate this land.
Anguished cries pulled from Flare’s mouth. Her pussy grabbed my cock, tiny spasms fluttering around me. A prelude to her next orgasm.
Blood flooded my testicles. Delirium consumed my head.
The bath’s temperature made everything looser, sleeker. It intensified the depth of Flare’s body. With our flesh doused, we moved with ease, perspiration beading across our skin.
My mouth fell open, pressure building on the roof of my dick. Fuck, how she drenched me. But how much wetter could I make her?
With renewed ambition, I put my entire frame into the task. I hefted myself into her cunt, my thrusts lethargic yet penetrating.
Flare threw her head back and sobbed harder. I felt the throb of her vocal cords, which matched the throb between her walls. I chased those noises, pursued them. But however I relished being privy to the sounds, a greater desire eclipsed that privilege. More than hearing Flare reach nirvana, I wanted her to shout so loudly the world would listen.
“Set your voice free,” I urged into her hair. “Make yourself holler.”
Flare gyrated her hips, thumping her core into my lap, her moans accumulating. A profusion of fluid heat gushed down my column, wrenching heavy groans from me. One would think we were depriving one another instead of the opposite.
Not to be outdone, she rounded her hips, pliable and wanting. The flanks of her pussy drenched me to the brim, her cleft and my cock working together, fucking into one another.
Her thighs quivered. Her body jolted in tempo to the motions, her fingers scrambling to grab something, anything.
People held hands while making love, did they not? I moved on reflex, out of sheer need, and extended my fingers. Over the surrounding grass, Flare grabbed them and laced our digits into fists. The gesture tugged on a dormant part of me, driving it to the surface.
We clenched, held fast. The veins in my wrists rose, strained.
I bowed my head into her shoulder, summoning every ounce of willpower to keep my thrusts even. The muscles of my abdomen crunched with each measured pass. Flare angled her head toward me, kissed my temple, then broke away on a moan.
Time disappeared. We maintained a silken pace, our waists moving in sync, Flare’s buttocks rolling, her cunt pumping down on my cock. Rather than making love to my little beast, the tides turned. Now we made love as equals.
And like equals, we acted in tandem.
Flare twisted. “I need to see your face.”
“As I need to watch you,” I agreed.
Ravenous, we pried ourselves apart. I whipped my cock from inside her, and she gave a needy whimper as I spun her to face me. Those irises sizzled, pouring light all over me, the brightest fucking thing in this forest.
Tacking her to the spring’s edge, I cupped Flare’s profile in one hand and hooked the other leg over my waist, bracketing her in place. She steepled that limb high and grasped my ass, urging me to fuck back into her.
Clutching Flare’s cheek and thigh, I whipped my cock. She jostled upward, her mouth parting on a moan. My mouth braced the side of her throat. My growl struck her neck, the noise followed by another as I rekindled our rhythm.
Flare cried out and dug her fingers into my buttocks, the commotion punctuated by each slow beat of my pelvis.
“More,” I husked into her skin.
And she lowered her pussy farther around me.
“More,” she begged.
And I made love deeper into her.
“More,” I hummed.
And she spread herself wider.
Howls clawed through me. Fuck drowning or sinking. I would expire like this—would die shouting with her.
Lifting my head, I snatched her breathless mouth. Flare whined into my lips, her tongue yielding with mine. The kiss tested my limits more than anything else, its delicacy cracking through layers of ice.
I fucked her as a shattered prince. She made love as a free woman.
“You’re mine now,” she sighed.
“And you were made for me,” I swore.
In hate. In fear. In lust.
From the beginning, I had belonged to her. More than a throne, a kingdom, or a court, she commanded my every move I made.
Flare dug her fingers into my ass, hauling me deeper. She hoisted her other leg over my waist, driving me harder.
Vivid water illuminated her slack features. Yet I needed to view the rest of her, to witness as much as possible. The better to adjust and accentuate my efforts.
I lifted Flare from the spring and curled her backward. Guided by the motion, she reclined across the grass, sprawling herself for my gaze. Only her petite calves floated in the pool, framing my hips.
There she was. My little beast.
Flare’s short waves spilled across the green. Dusky nipples. Scarred stomach. Glistening thighs. Out of the water, blue droplets held their pigment and glazed her body like a gem.
A rarity.
And that lovely pussy, which clung to my cock. That pert clit, which swelled from her crease. Such a superb vision.
She waited for me, her eyes gleaming with too many unidentified emotions to withstand. Soft ones. Bright ones. I could not name them, but I experienced the brunt of their impact.
My equilibrium faltered. My heart ceased.
Standing over Flare, I shook my head in mystification. Grabbing her knees as if to steady my balance, I asked, “What is this look on your face?”
In Winter, citizens sneered at inexperience. They scorned one’s lack of knowledge, fluency, literacy.
Flare’s pupils glistened. “I think it’s the same thing staring back at me. Something I’ve never felt until now.” She smiled and covered my hands with hers. “I think it’s passion.”
What remained of my composure bled into the spring, purged like the ink that had entrapped her for nearly a decade. Without another word, I spread Flare’s knees and probed her with my cock. Flare’s skin pinkened, she slumped into the grass like a nymph, and her mouth hung ajar.
Everything came out. Moans. Cries. I jolted my hips forward, filling her pussy, thrusting to the hilt.
Suspended, I gave myself over to this. My gaze burned into hers, each of us watching the other.
My dick pumped farther, deeper, higher. Her core opened wider, wetter, warmer.
With prolonged movements, our waists rocked. I slid my palms to her hips and lifted them off the grass, altering the slope of my cock. This also changed the decibel of Flare’s moans, the noises compounding.
My stem broadened. The crown tapped that sweet spot within her, the angle of my body gliding freely.
Groans scraped from my throat. The pressure augmented, threatening to break me in half.
Make love to me.
I blew through my lips and used every joint, muscling into Flare, determined to satisfy her request. She snared my arms and arched into the air, her knees bending around my tireless waist, a scream wobbling on the tip of her tongue.
On the precipice, Flare cried out, “I’m going to come.”
“Then do it slowly,” I panted.
The rest came out hard, deliberate, authoritative. I’d spoken like a king. That’s how her pleasure made me feel. And no matter how this woman owned me, this rule I would not compromise on.
Her first.
Flare’s body trembled over the grass. Her pussy quavered, the supple walls clamping onto me, soaking my cock.
Finally, I surged forth. Velocity took over, my hips lunging, fanning out her things. While others made love only one way, we would do this in a thousand other ways.
Flare’s thighs clenched, trapping my hips. Her fingernails cut into my biceps. Like that, she pitched off the grass.
Then she unleashed into the canopy. With a holler, my little beast flung her orgasm into the air, the sound expansive. She came long and hard, and fuck yes. So very slow.
The nexus of her thighs convulsed. Her cunt pooled like a river down my cock.
I pumped, drawing out the sounds, encouraging them. As her wet flesh contorted around me, my groans stalled, a new noise pressing through my lungs. Heat rushed to my head, blood ruptured up my cock, and my lips unhinged.
I bellowed just as slowly, emptying into her, spilling my release.
We stared. And came. And came. Our moans tangled, then faded into the darkness.
Out of breath, out of mind, I hefted Flare off the grass. Then I yanked her into a hug.