20. I Dont Fucking Believe You
I Don't Fucking Believe You
Eamon
Standing in the kitchen, I can hear the words forming in Isla's head long before she's willing to say them out loud.
She's been building this speech in her mind for days. Since she spread those pretty legs and let me lose myself between them.
She's thought through every single response I might have. Every reaction, every possible outcome. But, unfortunately for her, she doesn't know that every time she so much as thinks my name, it's all I can hear. She's embedded so deeply inside me, I could probably hear her from the next life.
I peer over my coffee mug at her, waiting to see if she'll chicken out again, or if she's going to finally take the final step and say what she's been thinking.
Just do it , her mind screams. Just do it, you fucking coward. Get it over with.
Her throat clears, and anticipation floods my veins.
"So I've been thinking," she starts. No fucking shit. Jesus Christ, just say it so I can show you how wrong you are. "I don't think we should do that again."
With a raise of one single brow and a sip of the steaming beverage hiding my expression from her, I give her space to continue.
"I just think… that maybe… like, we got it out of our systems, right? And now that it's done, we can just... get over it," she shrugs as she says the words like they're an afterthought.
I have to fight the furious shiver that threatens to run through my body at the words she settled on. "Really?" I say non-committally instead, fighting to unclench my jaw.
"Yeah," she runs a steady hand through her ponytail, slicking it down and over her shoulder. "I mean, we're trapped here together." No, you are trapped. "And obviously we're, like, attracted to each other, but the last thing we need is some kind of added complication."
Got it out of our systems? Absolutely fucking not. I'll never, ever be out of her fucking system, especially now that I know her blood and cunt both taste like the closest thing I'll ever get to paradise, like every part of her was formulated just for me, from the sounds of her screams to the exact makeup of the hot liquid pumping through her veins. I will fucking haunt her for the rest of her life, whether she's here or on the other side of the planet.
The least she could do is admit that we can't keep doing this because she's terrified of the possibility that she might enjoy herself here. With me. Instead, she uses flippant language, pretending that our one taste of each other wasn't enough to shatter whatever hold our self-preservation might have had over us.
Fury and indignation threaten to overtake sense, and I want to bend her over this table right fucking now and show her how wrong she is.
"Come here," I bark, setting the mug behind me on the table.
Instinctively, she takes a single step forward before she stops herself, unwilling to fall back into the role we both crave her in.
But I've never been afraid of a game of chase.
Without another word, I take the few steps to bring myself right in front of her.
Her heart rate skyrockets as she steps back, almost taking herself out of my reach.
With a deceptively gentle touch, I take her hand in mine, almost interlacing our fingers to keep her from going any farther.
I watch her mouth, the soft parting of her lips as she tries to keep her breathing steady. She knows better than to run, better than to awaken the monster, but that doesn't mean her instincts aren't telling her to try.
With my free hand, I reach up, wrapping that sleek ponytail around my fist once. Twice. Not pulling hard; just making it clear that Isla's every movement is under my command.
Not taking my gaze from her reddening face, I bring her hand in mine up and kiss the knuckles gently, chastely. "You don't want me to fuck you again?" I ask, leading her into the trap she has to suspect but can't possibly avoid.
Images of me doing just that flash through my mind before she manages to shake them away again, her reaction and mine equally visceral. But even when I know it's a lie, she shakes her head.
I mockingly pout and shake my head with her, letting her anger and humiliation start that fire in her stomach that I crave every second of the fucking day.
I extend her middle and pointer fingers, playfully biting the tips. Her heavy eyes watch the motion, captivated by it as I pull her closer, trapping her body against mine.
My voice falls quiet, taunting, "So you don't want me to have you sprawled out over your bed again? Dripping wet, legs shaking while I fill your little body over and over again?"
She barely manages to shake her head again, "N-no." The word is closer to a whimper than any intelligible language. In a move so sordid and filthy she has no fucking chance, I suck her fingers into my mouth, mimicking the commanding way I sucked on her clit until she squealed. Her lips wobble, the desperation between her legs growing, the dizzying scent of her wetness filling the small amount of space between us and giving away the charade even if her body language didn't.
My grip on her hair hardens, and she quietly moans, her free hand finding my chest, feebly pushing me away. With another dirty suck, I slide my tongue between her fingers, showing her exactly how I want to fuck that pretty cunt with my mouth again. Lines form between her brows, frustration and need winning out over self-preservation.
When I release her fingers from my mouth, I use my grip on her hair to turn her around and bend her over the cold steel of the table. A surprised gasp escapes Isla as I bend my body to cover hers completely, rubbing myself against her plump ass that I definitely didn't spend enough time worshipping when I frantically fucked her before.
"See, here's the thing, Isla," I tease, speaking against her ear before taking the lobe between my teeth. "I don't fucking believe you."
She whimpers again, struggling against me.
"Come on, baby, tell me to stop," I urge her, using my free hand to grip her hip, pinning her to the table.
"S-stop," she barely manages to squeak out.
A wicked laugh escapes my chest, "Oh, honey, that was just pathetic."
She wiggles again, her ass rubbing back and forth against my cock. Even through the layers of clothes, I'm hyperaware of everywhere our bodies meet. "Fight me, Isla. Make me stop. Otherwise, I'm about to rip these fucking pants down and bury my cock inside this little cunt again."
"Eamon," she pleads, but she could fight me off if she wanted to. She's practiced it enough times that she could get at least a few seconds. But she doesn't even really try; just writhes between me and the table, driving me mad with her movements.
The first time I got to fuck her, it was all frenzy and need and a race to finally feel her wrapped around me before sense could stop me.
But this time, I need to feel every inch of her body, run my teeth along each curve and learn every spot that makes her fucking weak.
Releasing her hair and trusting that she'll stay still, I lower to my knees behind her, dragging her stupid fucking sweats down with me until they fall off her ankles onto the floor.
"Don't fucking move," I order.
But she doesn't listen, using the opportunity to try to close her legs and protest, though half-heartedly, at best.
"Eamon," she mumbles my name, "We- we can't. We shouldn't."
I run my tongue along the back of one thigh, making her breath hitch. "And why not?"
"It's just..." I interrupt her thought with a gentle bite, using my palms to push her legs apart as I work higher toward my goal. "It's a bad idea."
"I don't know," I tell her, eyes almost rolling into my head as my gaze lands on the unmistakable wet spot between her legs in that little black thong. " Fuck — yeah, from down here, this seems like the best idea I've ever had."
A half-moan, half-laugh escapes her, turning into a full moan as my tongue runs against the fabric, soaking up the smell of her barely covered sex. With a groan, I hook my fingers into the waistband, pulling it down slowly and impatiently, waiting for her delicious cunt to be revealed to me again.
"Ohhh, Isla," I moan her name, the pink folds of her glistening and begging me to play with them. "Fuck, you're so pretty. All I've thought about is how good this pussy looks with my cum dripping out of it. Thinking about all the different ways I can fill it again."
A choked breath leaves Isla as my fingers gently trace her, finding a path that my tongue will very shortly follow. She wiggles, her powerless position finally registering as her feet dangle several inches off the floor.
With another warning bite against her inner thigh, I grip her plump ass in both hands, spreading her wide so I can dip my tongue between her folds, gliding between them and gathering all her sweetness in my mouth.
Closing my eyes with a moan, I savor every bit of her, spreading her wider while my tongue traces her slick opening, teasing across every sensitive inch while avoiding her clit until she's desperate for it. Over and over, I dodge the place she wants me the most, her moans turning frustrated while I groan into her hot flesh. "You taste so good, my little hunter. You definitely taste like you want this. All this fucking slick your pussy keeps giving me to play with— fuck— you're so perfect."
With a pained, defeated moan, she moves again, this time trying frantically to find more friction, rubbing herself against my face. I groan into her delicious, soft sex, finally letting my tongue find her clit, pushing flat against it, making her cry out.
As much as she can in my punishing grip, she rocks her hips, hoping to guide me where her body needs me, even in this utterly powerless position she's in. I make my tongue grow, not to its full monstrous size, but enough that when I slide it inside her, it caresses her walls, her slick coating it so thoroughly I'll carry her taste with me for-fucking-ever, if I'm lucky.
She releases a shocked squeal, followed by a delicious fluttering of the hot walls around me. Replacing my tongue with two fingers and making her cry out again, I tease Isla, speaking against where my fingers spear into her, licking up every drop I can as her body releases it. "Tell me how good it feels."
A frustrated whine comes from the top of the table, Isla fighting a losing battle against me and her body. But I need to push her over the edge into delirium. The only things she should be able to say— scream — are my name, more , and please. Maybe even harder .
I shove my tongue back inside that hot cavern, earning me a pained moan as she rocks, fucking herself on me. I let my thumb find her clit, rubbing against it and getting all fucking wet and slippery— reveling in all the wetness my little Isla offers me, all the sloppy, delicious slick I can use to take her pleasure higher and higher.
With my thumb thoroughly coated, I let my hand travel up, over the curve of her ass, slowly traversing between her cheeks until I find the spot that makes her freeze.
"Eamon," Isla grits out.
I fight back a chuckle, waiting for a protest. And when she doesn't make one, I press my thumb against the tight ring of muscles. Not breaching, just applying slight pressure to bring her insanity and pleasure so intense she's powerless against it.
Her breathing speeds, her pants of need and anticipation making my dick ache where it waits in my pants. I fuck her thoroughly with my tongue, the visions surrounding me making everything awash in a sea of red, her gorgeous cunt stretching around my tongue, her puckered hole relaxing against my ministrations, the filthy sounds of her pleasure filling the space between my ears like a fucking siren song.
I moan with her, the vibrations making her scream as she pushes back against me further. Her legs start twitching, the impending orgasm rapidly barreling towards us.
But I need her to come on my cock, or I actually might fucking die.
Easing my tongue from her warmth, I stand. Her frustrated moan makes me chuckle, and I playfully slap her ass to remind her to behave.
"Oh, I thought you didn't even want this," I taunt.
"I don't," she pants, raising onto her elbows.
With a chuckle, I plant soft kisses at the base of her spine, reveling in the arch as I take my mouth higher, lifting her shirt to bare more of that skin.
"No bra?" I tease against her spine, helping her wiggle out of the T-shirt. "Now, I definitely don't believe you. You came out here with these pretty tits on display, practically begging for me to play with them, huh?" I slide one of my hands underneath her body, gently thumbing a nipple before pinching it.
"No," she grits, but I can see the goosebumps rising on her arms, smell the wetness between her legs.
Releasing myself from my pants, I run the hard shaft along Isla's hot opening and drag it against her clit, her hips rocking with mine while she pants.
I angle my dick right where I need it, so fucking ready to bury myself inside her again and imprint my dick so deep inside her she'll feel me for weeks.
Wrapping my body over hers again, I grab her jaw and make her twist so I can look at her silhouette against the cold steel, whispering in her ear, "I'll give you one last chance, baby. Fight me off."
"Fuck you," she pants, but the insult falls flat when she's actively writhing and trying to take me inside her hot little body.
With painstaking precision, I ease inside just the tip, not giving her near enough to make her come, just enough to make her little cunt hungry for more. The pressure wrapping around the tip is enough to have me seeing stars, but I'll be fucking damned if I give her everything I've got when she won't even admit she wants it.
An angry, violence-promising growl escapes Isla, and I fucking shiver from the rage in her voice. "Eamon, I swear to god, if you don't fucking-" her threats are cut off with a sharp cry as I spear her all the way to the base of my cock, filling her and stretching her wholly.
"Oh, what was that?" I pump hard and fast, gripping her throat and her hip to make her body meet my every brutal thrust. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of me ruining this fucking cunt."
"Fuck you," she repeats. One of probably three phrases she might be capable of right now. She scrambles to find purchase, gripping at the hard steel beneath her body to find some kind of control. But she's my fucking doll right now, and I'm going to use her however I want.
Her pussy squeezes my shaft, her earlier almost orgasm bringing her to the edge faster.
"You gonna come for me already, baby?" I pant in her ear. "Come on, you're not even gonna make me work for it?"
Against my grip, she shakes her head, using all her might to concentrate on not falling apart.
"No?"
Acceptance wins over, and she nods, both defeated and utterly, wholly, blissfully victorious.
Keeping up the brutal pace, my hand moves from the front of her throat to the back, laying her flat on her front. Keeping her still while I punish her body for being so goddamn perfect it's turned me into an idiot, my other hand moves from her hip back to that dark ring of muscle, pressing against it with my middle finger.
Isla moans my name, joining the dark, sordid symphony of hard, wet slaps as our bodies join over and over again. Higher and higher, her pleasure soars, nearing the edge of insanity as I feel the need to come building in my spine. She feels so fucking good, taking my dick like it was formed just to fill her.
Her short, panting breaths and sharp moans drive me wild, taking my thrusts harder and harder, pressing against her tight hole and massaging it so thoroughly small sobs fall from her mouth.
Just as Isla's body freezes, that long pause right before the fall, her mouth frozen open, just waiting for the moment she falls over and screams, I push past the puckered hole, my finger sliding inside her ass to send her soaring into oblivion.
She comes with a shout, the squeezing of her hot walls around my shaft threatening to bring my own orgasm far sooner than I want it. Her cries echo off the steel around us, reflections of her delirious pleasure in both the sounds and the sights of the table and cabinets.
Slowly, her orgasm wanes, the flexing around me slowing to a halt as I gentle my movements, riding out the high with her until she's boneless and thoughtless beneath me.
Still buried inside her, I lean forward, kissing her shoulder, moving my hand from her neck into her hair, gripping it at the nape so I can arch her back. She moans softly, eyes fluttering open as she comes back from her little death.
Slowly, the finger still inside her starts pumping. Keeping my body still while I finger fuck her asshole is one of the most difficult things I've ever done. All I want to do is rut into her until I can't any longer, until our fucking souls have departed this plane.
A choked moan escapes her as she tries to writhe against me, trying to gain the friction of my dick inside her again. "Hold still," I warn her, stretching and filling her ass. "If you keep wiggling, I won't let you come again."
Rather than comply, the little minx bears down on me, squeezing her perfection tighter around my cock. A growl rumbles in my chest, unable to do anything about it since she technically stopped wiggling.
Instead, I ease my finger out of her ass, releasing her hair and standing tall. With both hands, I spread her cheeks, the view beneath me one of utter glorious debauchery.
Isla's pussy stretched around me, all of her juices coating my cock and dripping down both of our legs. And her other hole, begging for more of my attention.
I gather the saliva in my mouth, watching Isla's body tense as she tries to stay still instead of writhing on me.
She whines, squeezing me again and making me hear fucking colors for a second. "Come on," she pants. "You're killing me. Fucking move!"
A smirk pulls at my lips, but I'm a little too busy to tease her for admitting this is everything she wants, even if she did it in her own, 100% Isla, way. Instead, I let the spit fall from my mouth in a long string before it snaps, landing just above her hole, making her gasp and wiggle with impatience.
I use my fingers to slide through it, lubing up my pointer and middle finger before sliding them against her again.
When I finally breach the entrance, using my fingers to spread her, her moan is low, primal, utterly and totally lost in the pleasure of being stuffed so full. As I start moving my hips again, Isla releases a small sob.
Fucking her pussy and filling her asshole with my fingers while her hands grip the edge of the table is the ultimate fantasy, one I've imagined time and time again. But nothing in my mind could ever compare to the reality before me. Her chants of my name, the way she meets me, thrust for thrust, no matter how hard I go. She takes all the abuse, screaming and sobbing from the overwhelming sensation. Sweat gathers across her back, redness from the exertion blooming across her skin. The previously immaculate ponytail is little more than a mess of tangled waves as I grip it again, using the hold to drive into her harder.
She sobs my name, trying to bury her face into the crook of her arm before I yank it back again so I can hear every fucking sound as her orgasm nears again.
"You're such a good fuck, Isla— shit— I love being inside you," my stupid mouth starts running, my impending orgasm and Isla's screams of pleasure turning my brain into mush. "Gonna fucking fill you up with cum again and again. 'Til it has no fucking choice but to take." What the fuck did I just say?
"Oh fuck," Isla squeals, her cunt squeezing around me. "Eamon, please. "
I don't even have the mental power to deny her, instead leaning into it, practically growling, "Is that what you want, honey? You want me to fill you up and make you have my little demon babies? Give you all this fucking cum and breed you?" Her reply is unintelligible, her body tightening, the blissful end rapidly approaching for both of us. I groan, able to hold on for only a few more seconds, "Tell me. Tell me you want me to fuck a baby into you."
"Please, Eamon," she cries, her frantic pleading a pathetic, delicious scream. "Please fuck— oh, fuck, oh god, oh my god, please fuck a baby into me."
"Oh, shit. Fuck yeah— Come for me. Come all over this cock and I'll do it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, baby, come on." My fingers and dick pump into her in tandem, and I pray to whoever might be listening to let her fall apart before I do. "Give it to me."
All at once, her body squeezes me, a hoarse scream leaving her throat. The second she falls over that edge, she pulls me with her, a demonic, violent growl escaping me as ribbon after ribbon of my cum paints her fluttering walls, both of us moving together to ride the last dregs of the orgasm. Her screams turn into soft, relieved moans, murmuring my name over and over while I slow my pumps, gently removing my fingers from her body.
Even once we've stopped, I can't bring myself to leave the warmth of her pussy, wishing for just a few extra seconds of this time with her.
Gently, I kiss her jawline, watching her beautiful, reddened face, her eyes closed in satiation.
"Can that really happen?" she asks, her voice floating almost dreamily to me.
I haven't had a single thought in my head, so I really don't know what she's talking about. "Can what happen?"
"Can you get me pregnant?"
Oh. I kiss her cheekbone, her temple, a smile lifting one side of my lips as I do, "No, baby. I can't." She sighs, relieved, and I chuckle. "But maybe we should try a few more times. Just to be sure."
A small smile lights up her face, and she finally opens her eyes, looking at me from the corner of one. "You should probably get off now."
Instead of shying away from her fear of the vulnerability of being connected to another human after the high of orgasms has passed, I tease her, "Oh, honey, believe me, I already did."
"You're not funny," she laughs.
Yes, I am. "Yes, I am."