Chapter 24 #2
“Has anyone ever tasted you like this before?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust.
“No,” I pant. “Never.”
“Good,” he growls, and lowers his head between my thighs. His mouth finds my center, and he begins to lap at me with long, slow strokes of his tongue. I moan and arch my back against the wall, the pleasure so intense that I feel like I might burst at any moment.
I can’t believe he’s doing this. That he’s tasting me, savoring me like I’m his last meal. I feel so completely vulnerable and exposed, and yet the fire that’s building in my veins with each pass of his tongue is addicting.
He continues to feast on me, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing flicks of his tongue. My body responds to him like a bucking horse, sending sparks through me with each touch of his lips.
I lose track of time, lost in a world of sensation. His skilled mouth brings me to the brink of orgasm over and over again, but each time, he pulls back, denying me release.
“Please,” I beg again.
I feel him laugh against my wetness, his breath so hot that I fear I might die on my feet from wanting something so badly.
“I love to hear you beg,” he murmurs against me, his voice muffled. “But only I get to decide when. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Such a good, sweet witch.”
Finally, when I can just about take no more, he plunges his tongue up and inside me, pumping it in and out like a cock, and then I’m teetering over the edge.
I cry out his name and surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that washes over me.
He continues to work me through my orgasm, prolonging the experience until I am weak and shaking with sensation, almost falling to the ground.
The energy my orgasm creates flows through me, and if only I could use my brain for just a moment, I know I could do something with that energy, create something from nothing.
He finally pulls back and looks up at me. I can barely focus on his face, the wild mess of his hair, the way his mouth glistens with my moisture on him.
“You taste like magic,” he murmurs. A look of molten darkness comes over his eyes, and I shiver despite myself. “Now, get on your knees.”
I stare at him in surprise. “What?”
But then he’s grabbing my arm and pulling me down until I land on my knees in the hay. Before I can say anything, he’s moving fast, suddenly behind me, one hand shoving my skirts up to my waist, the other pushing down between my shoulder blades until my chest is pressed against the ground.
“Stay there,” he commands. “And wait for it.”
I hear him walk off into the stable, the hay pressed against my cheek, loose bits of it scattering as I breathe hard, not knowing what he’s about to do.
You can get him to stop, I remind myself. He won’t let you feel unsafe.
But I don’t want him to stop. I like feeling afraid with him, knowing in the end, he’ll still protect me. It’s the best kind of danger, the one I feel my energy feeds on.
His footsteps echo as he comes back, and I only now realize the sound of rain falling outside the stable, the patter of it on the roof and the maple trees.
“Good girl,” he croons. “Waiting so patiently. So trusting.” He pauses. “Do you still want to continue?”
I try to lift my head to look at him, but suddenly, I hear a loud smack of something hard against his palm, and I jump.
“Keep your head down. Don’t look at me.”
I do as he says, my body tingling all over with anticipation.
Then he reaches forward and pulls down my drawers and stockings until my bottom is exposed.
He lets out a low moan. “What a prize student you are,” he says. “You’re about to find out about a saying us teachers have.”
I try to swallow. I can barely speak. “What’s that?”
“Spare the rod, spoil the child,” he says. “But you are no child, sweet witch. And you will not be spared.”
With that, I feel a sharp sting on my bottom as he spanks me.
Hard. Not with his hand but with what feels like a riding crop.
I cry out, not expecting the sudden pain, but then he hits me again, and again, and again, each time harder than the last, until I’m jerking against the ground.
My hands clench into fists as I try to process the sensations, the mix of pain and pleasure causing my body to react in ways I never thought possible.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his breath labored. “I can stop.”
I make a noise.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I manage to say. “I’m all right.”
“Very good.”
He continues to spank me with the crop, alternating between hitting each cheek until tears are streaming down my face and my bottom is on fire.
I can feel the wetness between my legs increasing with each strike, and I know he can too.
But even as the pain becomes almost unbearable, the pleasure is still there, lurking just beneath the surface.
“You like this, don’t you?” he growls, his hand coming down harder, the crop stinging.
“Yes,” I gasp out. “Please don’t stop.”
He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “I thought you might. I’ll only stop when you say you’ve had enough.” He emphasizes that with another hit of the crop, and my body jerks. “I can go all night watching the marks I’m leaving on your perfect skin.”
Eventually though, my skin goes numb, the sensations flattening me, and my core pulses with a greedy need for release.
“Crane,” I say through ragged breath.
“What is it, my vlinder?” he says. “Had enough?”
I nod.
He leans down and whispers in my ear. “You’re doing so well, sweet witch,” he says gently. “Shall I fuck you now? Is that what you’d like? My big cock filling up that tight pink cunt of yours.”
I both blush at his scandalous words and moan in response, my body arching up toward him in anticipation.
He takes my response as encouragement and flips me over onto my back.
My breath hitches as he undoes his trousers, his eyes burning into mine as he brings his cock out of his fly and onto his palm.
I can’t look away from the brazen sight of it, and he gives me a satisfied smirk as he runs his hand up and down his length, coating it in his own arousal.
I knew he’d be large based on the way he felt earlier and how tall he is, but I didn’t think he’d be that big.
He’s huge, long, and thick, and I feel sweat beading on my forehead at the thought.
I may have had a lover or two, and Brom certainly was a big boy, but now I feel flush with nervousness.
“It will fit,” Crane says smugly, stroking it with easy slips of his hand. “In case you’re worried about that.”
I gulp down air as he comes forward and towers over me. Then he gets down on his knees, his eyes dark with desire as he leans down and kisses me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine. I taste myself on his lips, salty and strange, but I don’t care. I want more of him.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
He positions himself at my entrance, teasing me with the tip before pushing in slowly.
So slowly. His length fills me up in a way that makes me feel like I’m splitting in two.
I cry out, the sensation almost overwhelming, but then he’s kissing me again, his tongue soothing and coaxing as he moves inside me.
The stretch of him is almost too much to bear, but the pleasure overrides any discomfort.
He fills me completely, his cock throbbing inside of me as he begins to move in and out, slow at first but building in speed and intensity with each thrust.
I cry out as he hits a spot deep inside of me, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my nerves. He grunts in response, his forehead pressing against mine as he continues to pound into me, his fingers digging into my hips.
Our bodies move in perfect sync, a dance of pleasure and desire. The hay beneath us rustles and crunches with every thrust, adding to the raw, animalistic feeling of it all, as if we’re just two animals rutting in heat.
“Kat,” he groans, his pace becoming erratic as he approaches his own release. My name sounds like a spell coming from his lips. “My sweet little witch, you feel so good.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him to go faster, harder. I’m on the edge of another orgasm, the pleasure building and building until it’s almost unbearable.
“Would you like to come, my dear?” he whispers. “Would you like me to touch you where you’re most desperate for me, that slick little bud that’s just crying for release?”
I nod frantically, my body aching for it.
“Tell me, Kat,” he says. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to touch me,” I gasp. “Please, Crane, I need it.”
He grins down at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Anything for you,” he says.
He shifts his weight and takes one hand off my hip, moving it down between us until his fingers are rubbing circles around my clit.
I cry out again, the sensation almost too much to bear.
But he keeps going, his fingers working me faster and harder until I’m shaking with the force of my orgasm, my body clenching around him as I come.
He doesn’t stop moving though, even as I’m coming down from the high.
He keeps thrusting into me, hitting that spot deep inside over and over again until he’s coming too, his body jerking against mine as he spills inside me.
He lets out a deep, guttural moan, his forehead resting against mine as his body shudders with the force of his release.
We stay like that for a few moments, our breathing heavy and labored as we come down from the intensity of our pleasure. Then he pulls out of me, his seed spilling onto the hay as he does so, and collapses onto the hay beside me, pulling me close.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs, brushing my hair off my face. “Believe it or not, I was easing you into it. Into the way I like things. My sexual appetites have often been called…deviant.”
I let out a light laugh, feeling joyous and dazed. “That was easing me into things?”
“To be honest, I thought of putting a bit in your mouth and riding you like a horse. But perhaps that’s something for another day.”
My eyes widen. “You really are a deviant.”
He grins, a rare show of perfect white teeth.
“There are worse things.” Then his expression turns grave.
“I have specific tastes, and I know it’s not for everyone.
The fact that you accept me, that you like it, that means something to me.
It means a lot.” He runs a finger along my lips.
“You have me under your spell, sweet witch. With every waking moment, I’m always coming back to you. ”
“And Brom,” I say quietly.
He gives me a soft smile. “Yes. I think about him too. Perhaps as much as you do.” He pauses.
“I know you feel caught between the two of us. I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me.
I know I have you. You’ve proven that you’re mine.
And if that means you’re his as well, then that’s something I’ll just have to deal with. ”
Oh. What is he saying? “I thought you were the jealous type,” I tease.
“I am jealous,” he admits, his eyes darkening as he presses his thumb between my lips. “And I am possessive. But I respect the history you have with him. And I suppose I respect the history I have with him as well. Makes it a very complicated knot, doesn’t it?”
I swallow hard, anxiety rising in my throat. “I’m afraid,” I admit. “I’m afraid for him, and I’m afraid for me.”
“I know,” he says. “But I’ll protect you from him. And I’ll try to protect him from himself. I won’t give up until I figure this out, Kat. Brom, the horseman, the school, your mother. It’s all connected, just one big web and…” He trails off, concentrating on something.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, blinking hard for a moment. He leans in and leaves a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re safe with me, my little butterfly. Remember that.”
I let the words sink in and let out a peaceful sigh, nestling against him, wishing I could spend all day here. Forever here. Feeling the safety and strength of his strong arms, everything I’ve always craved.
Except…
“You ruined my blouse,” I remind him. “Now what am I supposed to wear?”
He chuckles. “My apologies. I’ll go fetch you one of my shirts, and you can make do for now if you wear it under your coat.”
“You’re thin,” I remind him. “There’s no chance my breasts will fit in there.”
He grins at me, his eyes dancing. “You say that as if your breasts are a hindrance. I think they deserve to be worshipped.”
I watch as he leans in and places his mouth on my bare breast, his hand going to the other one until I’m sighing with pleasure.
Here we go again.