Coraline
Gavin was not bluffing. He’s a man of his word.
Still tied up, I lie on my back, him on top, as he slides himself inside me.
I’m still wet from earlier’s heated session.
The ropes rub against my skin, surely burning, but it just adds more fuel to my building orgasm.
He enters me as I blink slowly at him; his blurry silhouette makes my chest swell.
“Gavin,” I mumble through tired lips. “What time is it?” I ask. From the indigo grey shades of color that filter through the rectangular window, I know it’s dawn.
“It’s time you taste how perfect we are together. Open your mouth.”
This is, quite frankly, the best way I’ve been woken up. He pulls out of me. I whine, pouting, needing him to keep going. My hands have fallen asleep from being bound for so long. I pull on them, trying to free myself, but nothing budges.
He places both knees on either side of my chest, stroking his dick.
He presses the tip against my lips, stirring our cum on them.
When I part my lips to suck in a breath, he pushes inside.
I taste myself and lazily grin through his deep strokes.
He pushes slowly, stretching my mouth around his monster girth.
“I’m going to ruin you, baby. Ruin you so beautifully, you shatter and break only for me. Ruin you so good that you’ll never be satisfied with anyone else unless you’re coming on my cock. In every single lifetime, I’m haunting you, Coraline.”
He pulls out just enough to let me talk.
“Haunt me. Ruin me. Shatter me,” I plead.
He smiles before he goes back in deep until I’m gagging.
At first, they’re slow, deep strokes. Tears leak down my cheeks as I continue to deep throat him.
I can’t move, but just lie there and take it as he promised.
I feel every vein, every drop of cum, and it arouses me higher.
I want to play with myself, but he keeps me where he wants.
“So beautiful when you choke on me, Cora.”
He has me gripped by the hair, spearing my throat faster until saliva drips down my chin.
His thrusts grow faster and needier. His massive cock tastes so delicious.
I don’t gag anymore, but let him take what he needs.
The sound of my moans and his deep, satisfied grunts turns me up higher.
I want him inside me. Arching my back, my legs twist, and toes curl as I beg for his cock to be inside my wet pussy too.
“Don’t talk right now. I want to see you cry on it, just like your pussy is crying for me to fuck it.”
Then his palm connects with my face as he keeps wildly driving into my mouth. Slapping me as he turns me into his cock whore. He slaps me one more time, then I feel him jerk inside my mouth as I stroke him with my tongue.
“Beg me to let you swallow my cum.”
I don’t even hesitate at his request. I’m so wrapped in Gavin’s spell, I want him all the time now.
His hooded eyes darken, looking at my lips, gripping his cock.
He’s close, and it’s not fair because I’m aching down below.
He takes out his dick and slaps my mouth with it a couple of times as I mutter my pleas.
“Let me swallow your cum, please.”
He rams it back inside until it’s at the back of my throat again.
He finishes with a growl. Slowing his pace, he shuts his eyes tight, dipping his head back as he pulses. I swallow him, licking every drop.
He unties me, and I immediately cup his face in my hands and stare at him, locking our gaze together, and needing him to understand that he has me under his spell. My nerves explode. My blood boils into euphoric lust. Flames are wild within both our eyes and souls.
“Fuck, Gavin, that was amazing,” I admit, shyly still feeling needy for him. I think I can do this all day. Still naked, bruised, and well fucked, his hand settles on my breasts, kneading them.
“Shower next.”
His ocean eyes shine with lust.
“Again?” I bite my lip, excitedly.
“I’m going to fuck you in every room of this house, sweetheart.”
For the next seven days, it’s paradise. Days of shed hunting, drawing, eating food, tangled in bedsheets, and talking about anything and everything. I feel like we’re in our own world up here.
I’m curled up in the Sleepy Coldwater, Alaska sweater, another pair of dark grey sweatpants, barefoot as “Indigo” by Sam Barber feat. Avery Anna plays low and soft on the radio in the corner.
Gavin Ariksen is mutating my brain and blood chemistry. One kiss and taste broke the rules I made for myself so I don’t fall for any man.
But how can I not want more after what we just shared all these nights? I want more again, and again.
I stare at his sleeping face, heartbeat after heartbeat. Running my digits through his chest, over every scar, I can’t help but want to know every single thing about him.
I want to know more about his time in the military, but he hasn’t wanted to talk about that yet.
Gavin is asleep on his side. His hair is tousled, his beard longer than the first day I met him. He’s just…intriguing, and I can’t get enough.
I look down at the sketch pad Gavin gave me.
He inspired me to dive back into my craft. Being here in this cabin, with Gavin’s help, I dreamed again.
After he fell asleep, I poured it all on paper and pencil.
It’s old-school for me, but I still love the classic art I create with charcoal and a number 2 pencil—a nice break from technology.
I didn’t have to think too hard when I turned the page.
It was instinct. A breath of fresh air after feeling like I’ve been in an ocean in the depths of hell.
I knew what I wanted to draw and haven’t stopped to take a break.
I’ve been sitting in the corner of the room on the couch, drawing Gavin.
My new muse.
The pencil in my hand reminds me of the woman I used to be. With every stroke of the pencil, I get lost and go somewhere no one can hurt me. My spark is back. Lightly giggling to myself, I continue to shade in my favorite part of Gavin’s face. His eyes. Every time he looks at me, I melt.
I glance up at him as he turns in his sleep. The white blankets wrinkle as he moves. He frowns, his chest rising and falling faster than before, so I saunter over to him.
Is he having a nightmare?
I shouldn’t wake him up even though I want to.
The sound of a door slamming catches my attention. I palm my scream, keeping it inside so I don’t startle Gavin awake. He’s lying on his side with his back to me, mumbling incoherently. I reach out to tap his shoulders, but another door slam pulls me away.
Regardless, someone is in here.
Is it Merelyn or Georgia? My mind travels to the worst—the one who’s been after me.
No, I won’t go there.
I place my sketchbook down on the nightstand with the pencil next to it, and open the door to the bedroom. The feeling of being watched returns as I take the first step in the dark hallway. The first thing I see makes my blood run cold, and I gasp.