Chapter 40 #3
“Oh, you can, Nher,” he said, like it was fact, his voice void of softness.
I shook my head violently, tears pricking my eyes, my entire body slick with sweat as my walls expanded further, pushing past its limits to contain him.
“I told you that you were made specifically for me. Your body was made for me. I promise you can take it. Let go. Relax for me, Nher.”
I did. I relaxed my body, literally breaking out in sweats as the sensation of him filling me eased from ragged pain to a slow-burning bloom. Did I think fucking an immortal would be a walk in the fucking park?
“Oh, fuck. Thrax,” I cried out as he buried himself to the hilt. He filled me completely, every inch of him wedged deep into my pussy, making my walls pulse and clench around him like they were trying to mould to his shape.
I was so thankful I was beyond wet, because the slickness dulled the pain and let pleasure thrust in its place.
Lightning flashed across the room in jagged white as he pulled back, then sank back into me again. The rhythm was slow and painstaking, his elbows coming down on each side of my head to hold his weight so he could kiss away the tears that leaked down my face between thrusts.
“You’re perfect. You’re doing so fucking well, Sanora. So much better.” His praises rolled over me and made me dizzy, and I clung to the compliment like a rope.
Those words made me relax as he pulled back almost completely, sinking himself back into me with a patience that I could tell he was struggling with.
“I don’t want to hurt you right now, but fuck me if I’m not trying my best to hold myself back from ramming into you,” he groaned between teeth. “So I’d like it if you adjust before I lose hold of my shit.”
Knowing he was serious about losing his control soon, I willed my body to accept his brutal tempo. He moved in and out four times while I adjusted, each stroke deeper than the last, then he picked up a pace.
“It’s insane how you feel even better than I imagined,” he panted, the cadence of his voice matching the rhythm of his hips.
He was making me see stars, making the world narrow until it was only the two of us and the loud, wild sounds of our bodies.
He pushed into me all the way in over and over, and I swore, I didn’t know how deep one could go until Thrax.
He was everywhere, invading in a way that erased all previous standards. I moaned at the fullness of him, each thrust driving so deep I could taste him down my throat.
I knew then with a terrible certainty that I would never recover. No one would compare. No one would measure up. I was officially ruined.
“Before this moment, I made a decision,” he said, voice ragged.
Teary-eyed, I stared at him, unable to speak, but he kept talking. “I made a decision to make your body my god. It’s the first and only thing I feel passionately inclined to worship. Will you be my god, Sanora? Let me show you how true faith and devotion works.”
Goddamn.
Thrax pinned me with a stare, and I nodded, unable to speak because my voice was lost somewhere between his hand on my skin and the venomous sweetness of his thrusts.
That was when a wail tore through the night, through the rain, and through my own very chest.
It was jagged and raw and it sent a lurch of adrenaline through my veins, reminding me that those creatures were still outside, outside with a plan to kill me.
Lightning flashed then, washing the room in pure light before a thunder cracked the sky.
My pulse ratcheted up, fear lacing through my heat and making the present moment feel even more electric.
Thrax stopped moving inside me. For a moment I felt very hollow, the absence of his motion making a terrible echo in me.
I blinked, about to ask why he stopped when I watched him pick the pillow beside my head. Without slipping out of me, he moved back, kneeling upright before yanking out pillowcase and flinging the pillow to the side.
“What...are you—”
Thrax tore the pillowcase, the sound of the fabric loud over the rain pouring. After literally dividing it into four different parts, he managed to tear out a thin, long cloth, folding it over until I was staring at a makeshift blindfold.
I swallowed. “Are you going to—”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I didn’t have to think, I nodded. Because in a world of monsters and impossible men, this was the safest I’d ever felt.
“Good.” Then he placed the fabric over my eyes, and I lifted my head from the bed so he could tie it behind. When he was done, his hand slid from the back of my neck to my chest, cupping my breasts, still not moving inside me. “What do you see, Sanora?”
“Darkness,” I replied, the blindfold making every touch amplified. In that dark, I felt more exposed than I ever had with my eyes open. Unknown things prowled outside, but the blindfold turned threat into a tight, erotic focus on the one thing I could feel for certain: him.
“Now, find me in that darkness and focus on me.” He twitched inside me a little, but he still didn’t move, and I knew for a fact that it was killing him more than it was killing me. “Your hands above your head, and keep them there,” he instructed.
I almost protested because I wanted to touch him, to feel him beneath my fingers as he claimed me, but I knew he was doing this—taking my control from me so all my focus could be on him and not what was happening outside.
Slowly, I put the hands above me, and that was when Thrax started moving again.
He pulled back so the head rested just at my opening, and then shoved himself into me with a force that made my back arch off the bed.
The motion was clean, brutally so. Again, he pulled almost entirely free and drove back in so hard that a white hot pleasure lanced through me, stars flashing behind my closed eyes as I cried.
“Shit, Thrax—yes.”
He did it again and again, and instinctively, I made to move my hand from above my head so I could anchor myself by touching him, but as if Thrax knew my next move, he strapped me...
Something invisible held me fast, pinning my hands back to the bed, and I knew for sure that Thrax wasn’t touching me.
The helplessness brought a sharp, ecstatic panic that poured straight into my cunt. “Did you...”
I realised, with a flicker of awe, that he was holding me with his mind; some part of him had reached out and bound me. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being restrained without a single hand on me, of being made wholly his.
The immobility was absolute and maddening, making the next thrusts feel deeper, more ferocious.
My heart thudded loud in my chest, beating so fast I could hardly catch up. It was the rush, the sweet rush of being restrained, of my power being limited. I relished how every barrier fell away until there was nothing between me and the full force of him.
“Thrax...” I called, moving to turn my hips and feel more movements of him inside me, but he held my waist in place.
I was rendered absolutely motionless beneath him.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I only want your focus on me. Behind your closed eyes, picture me. Your ears should only be filled with my voice. I’m taking over your thoughts right now, Sanora, and I’m consuming it.”
And he did.
Thrax pulled out, ramming back in—hard, hard enough that the bed moved under us.
I cried out in pleasure, sparks going off in my stomach at the hard entrance.
He slipped back again to the tip, and I readied myself for another crude entrance.
..but nothing could have prepared me for the way he rammed himself into me, so intense he swore.
The world bent and the bed creaked as he filled me, making me cry out each time he slammed home. Each thrust knocked every thought out of me, erasing everything that wasn’t the two of us, until all I knew was the heat and the pounding.
I even lost sight of who I was right then and there, fighting against the invisible restraint as I begged him to slow down, to not stop, to keep going, and to go harder.
I was simply losing my mind.
When he moved away and knelt upright, grabbing my hips and raising it, I knew I was utterly finished, and I was loving it.
When he thrust in from that new height, all I could do was cry from too much pleasure. I felt used, worshipped, and ruined in the best way possible.
“Oh fuck, Thrax,” I keened, my voice shredding when he started controlling my hips, making me meet his strokes halfway. Not only was he pounding into me viciously, he was now tugging my hips back and forth, making the impact and collision even two times harder than before.
“Please...please—yes,” I begged between raw pants, the blindfold turning every sound and sensation up to a cruel, delicious volume.
“Don’t stop—please.” My voice trembled into a high whimper whenever he hit that perfect angle that split me open.
It was too much. He was too much.
Thoughts slid out of my head like spilled ink; all I could hear was our skin slapping, the high, raw sound of my own voice begging and begging, because gods, he was too deep, too fast, and he seemed to have none of the careful restraint I’d imagined an immortal might keep.
For a man who hadn’t touched anyone in six hundred years, he was all animal now—swollen need and no mercy.
And the knowledge that I was the first person he was intimate with in six centuries shifted me closer to my orgasm.
My destruction was near, and it tasted bloody. If the orgasms I’d had with him so far had been good, this one felt like it might finally make me black out.
I was a crying mess of pleasure and pain, a girl who was utterly at his mercy.
I turned my head, biting into my arm to keep from screaming the loud way I wanted to, and although somewhere in the back of my head, I knew fucking him meant wrecking myself, I had not anticipated the depth of the ruin — the way it rewired me, the way it left me high and shaking.