Chapter 6 The Fantasy
The Fantasy
Talon reached back to run his hand over the witch’s thigh when he pulled up to a stoplight. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. She’d entrusted her fragile human body to his care after the barest second of hesitation.
For an instant, he’d been pissed off about it. How could she be so fucking careless with herself? But the anger had melted away completely when she’d snuggled up against him.
He hadn’t even thought about it when he’d pulled up to the curb outside her house on his motorcycle, because no one else had ever ridden behind him.
But when he’d seen her concerned look as she took in the bike, he’d understood at once.
Witches didn’t have his swift healing. He’d never crashed yet, but his magic would protect her if the worst happened.
And he wasn’t worried about himself at all—he was a tough old goat.
Pulling away from the line, he directed his bike out into the desert. Once they were out of the city and by themselves on the road, he rested his clutch hand over hers where they gripped his belly and squeezed.
She pressed her luscious tits to his back when they picked up speed and roared into the night.
While she had frustratingly chosen to opt for underwear beneath her short, pleated skirt, she was braless under the fitted tee.
He knew she owned some—he’d seen and felt one on their first night together—but since then, she’d always come to him without one.
A smug part of him hoped that was because she’d noticed his regard for her excellent rack.
He reached back to grab a handful of her ass and smiled when she wiggled against him.
This close, he could almost taste her lust. She hadn’t requested one of his nighttime visits for much too long.
He had half a mind to pull off the road and perch her on his cock until she begged to come.
But he craved more from the night than a torrid quickie at the side of the road.
Although, truth be told, he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted.
He’d stuffed his saddlebags full of all manner of kinky surprises, but none of them had felt like “his fantasy,” whatever that might be.
He was, and always had been, a creature of carnal excess.
He indulged himself whenever and wherever he chose—there wasn’t much he hadn’t at least tried.
He pushed one of her hands down between his legs so she could feel his growing erection through his pants. Her thighs squeezed him as she shimmied against him.
Could he have her however he wanted her?
So far, she hadn’t shied away from anything he’d presented her with, but would she really accept him exactly as he was?
He pondered it as he turned them onto the narrow path to their destination.
They were far from the lights of the city now, and outside his headlight, the night was dark.
He had no trouble seeing, but she would struggle once the bike was off.
Well, that suited his plans just fine anyway. The one person he’d shown his true form to when he was young and stupid had literally screamed and run away. After that, he’d always kept himself partially shifted when having sex and had never let anyone see the real him.
He pulled to the base of the butte, killed the engine, and set the kickstand. She kept clinging to him longer than was strictly necessary, and he found he didn’t mind.
After she dismounted, he did the same and slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. She was looking around, obviously uneasy that she couldn’t see very well. When he took her hand, she visibly calmed. He led her about fifty feet away to his favorite camping spot.
He was, at heart, a solitary creature. He needed time alone out in nature to recharge after too long in cities, and he’d been lucky enough to find this place after his first couple of explorations of the area around Vegas.
There were no bells and whistles, just a flat piece of relatively soft ground where he could set out a blanket and fall asleep under the stars.
As he was laying out the blanket, he worried that he might never be able to come back to this place if she rejected him because she was put off by his true form. What would she think when she discovered that he’d been fucking her with a cock that wasn’t really his?
He growled under his breath. This pointless spiral wasn’t getting him anywhere. Why was he so obsessed with the idea that she should see the real him? It didn’t matter.
When he was done arranging the blanket, he stalked over to her, pushing aside the uncertainty plaguing him. He was just going to fuck the daylights out of her again. That would be enough.
He wrapped his arm around her from behind and she melted back against him. With a grumble, he dropped his hand under her skirt and tore off her panties.
Her arousal coursed through him, and he nuzzled into the side of her neck.
“Sooner or later, you’re going to remember that I get access to this cunt whenever I want it.
” Without any further discussion, he pushed his fingers into her roughly, rumbling with approval when he found her slick and ready for him.
She moaned out loud, her hips moving to drive him deeper.
Without asking, he maneuvered her onto her knees on the blanket and then reached for his saddlebags, which he had placed behind her.
She knew better than to look around and try to figure out what he was doing, which made him grin.
She waited calmly and quietly, her desire throbbing through her like low chords of sensual music.
She jolted just a bit when he pulled the hood down over her head from behind, but she got herself under control again impressively quickly.
She couldn’t see anyway, so it truly made no difference, except it was unbearably hot to fuck her while she was wearing it.
He smiled to himself when she didn’t protest as he tied it snugly around her neck.
Kneeling behind her, he reached around her to press the back side of his knife to the base of her throat. She gasped in surprise, her breathing ticking up, but she didn’t move more than to shiver. Her lust bloomed, and it smelled fucking intoxicating.
“I don’t know how much clearer I can be. Don’t wear panties when you come to me.”
She nodded slowly, a breathy sigh escaping her.
Gods, she was perfect. Where had she been all his long life? He’d never before experienced the way she could shake him so thoroughly with nothing but a small noise like that. “Why is that?”
“Because you get access to my pussy whenever you want it.”
“That’s right.” He cut through the front of her t-shirt as if it were nothing, scraping down her body with the tip of the knife not with enough force to cut her, but so she would feel the sharp point.
She quivered in his grip as he pulled the torn shirt and her jacket from her shoulders at the same time and cast them aside.
He decided to leave the skirt on her because it was short enough that it wouldn’t get in his way, and he liked the idea of the way it would flop around as he plowed into her.
He held the back edge of the knife to her throat as he pawed at her tits from behind. Rolling her pierced nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he worked them with careful patience until she whimpered. He spread her thighs and pushed his fingers into her again.
She groaned and leaned back against him, baring her throat even further to whatever he wanted to do with it.
If he wasn’t so obsessed with her, he might be irritated by the fact that she’d figured out his kinks so quickly and knew exactly what he wanted from her.
He maneuvered her backwards until she lay on her back, exposed to whatever his perverted heart desired with no idea what was coming—exactly the way he wanted her.
“Hands over your head.”
She complied with an easy grace that made her back arch and presented her for him in a very appealing way.
Talon traced the point of his knife down her centerline and around her perfect tits until she moaned, then leaned down to pull one of her nipples into his mouth.
Gods, he loved her tits. Someday soon he was going to spend all night giving them the worship they so richly deserved, until she was sopping wet and crying for him. But not right now—tonight he had other plans.
He went back and forth between the hard nubs, giving them both equal attention with his lips and tongue and teeth, adoring the way that the piercings made her so much more sensitive to the smallest touch. She was soon begging for more, and for an answer, he continued downward with the knife.
When she spread her thighs for him to do whatever he wanted, he couldn’t fucking believe it. He angled the blade away from her and pushed the cold metal hilt into her cunt. Her explosive moan echoed in the quiet night.
The backside of the knife was designed to be a sex toy, seamless and curved, but she didn’t know that.
For all she knew, she was humping a real knife hilt and getting off on it.
He watched her in wonder as she writhed under him, fucking herself on the shaft with slutty abandon.
“If I let you, you’d actually come all over this wouldn’t you? ” he asked with a growl.
She moaned, her hips flexing to take the hilt all the way down to where he held it at the crossbar. “I’d come on anything you put inside me.”
He grunted. “We’ll see about that.”
He moved around to kneel between her bent legs and traded the knife for the bottle of lube.
Pouring a healthy amount into his right hand, he took a moment to spread it around all the way down to his wrist. He slid three fingers into her easily, thanks to how drenched she was for him, massaging as deep as he could go to spread the lube.
She mewled and writhed under him, her body heating as her arousal grew. When he gathered all his fingers together with his thumb and pushed into her a while later, she tensed with an audible gasp.