5. Elio
Elio
M y Songbird is so damn cute when she tries to act tough.
She’s all stiff and awkward, trying not to give into her body’s exhaustion with me behind her, my cock stuffed between her thighs.
But I know she’s beyond tired, and slowly but oh so fucking surely, her muscles begin to unlock.
Her thighs sag, becoming dead weight around my throbbing cock, creating even more pressure there than there was before.
My balls feel all hot and tight, and I can tell I’m leaking precum onto her pretty sunshine-coloured PJs.
If I want to get any sleep, I’m going to have to pull out and find another position.
But I don’t need to sleep quite yet.
For now, I’m just going to indulge in the mind-bending tension of having my cock this fucking hard, this primed to explode between her legs without actually thrusting against her. Or inside her.
I force my breathing into a deep, even rhythm.
I’ll stay still like this for as long as I fucking can.
Only, I start to wonder if I’m wrong, if I can’t actually stay still at all, because suddenly there’s movement down there. Subtle at first, teasing and tentative. But it’s there.
It’s Deirdre. She’s rubbing herself on me.
My blood turns to magma in my veins, and my chest seizes, but I force myself to stay completely still as if I’m actually asleep.
I honestly can’t tell if Deirdre is awake or not.
She’s been quiet for a bit now and I would have guessed she was asleep.
Her movements are sleepy, slow, and dreamlike, although getting just a little faster every second.
Her breathing is shallow, but she’s not making any other noise.
She’s not doing anything but rocking her sweet little pussy maddeningly against my pulsing length.
I wonder what she’s dreaming about. A thread of violence winds through me because if she’s dreaming about someone who makes her want to pump her little pussy then she fucking better be dreaming about me.
If she’s actually sleeping, I probably shouldn’t touch her.
I should just stay like this, hard and throbbing and twitching against her while she does her thing.
Let her come to dreamy climax while I fight back the feral urge to yank my glove off with my teeth and plunge my hand beneath the waistband of her pants until I find the swollen, needy clit nestled there.
Fuck me, I should never have let her wear PJs to bed tonight. I should have her naked pussy sliding on me now. Feel her fucking wetness.
I think I can, actually, at least a little bit. She’s soaking through the thin silk, damp against me as she hitches her hips back and forth in that tiny, gliding arch of motion.
I’m so fucking hard it’s like I never even came tonight.
How the hell does she do this to me? With nothing but a sleepy jiggle of her hips, fully dressed in her loose PJs, she’s got me on the verge of spewing my goddamn load. My throat goes dry with the need to rip down her pants and jam myself inside her. Make her bleed all over again.
Because she’s small and I’m big and I don’t think I could be gentle.
Deirdre’s movements change a little. She arches her back slightly, angling her hips differently against my pelvis so that she’s grinding her clit in a circular motion against my thickness instead of rocking back and forth.
But everything she does is still kind of drowsily unintentional, almost innocent, her body moving in a hypnotic haze.
Fuck it. I’m going to touch her. She’s mine whether she’s awake or she’s asleep.
I lift my hand from her hip, ready to rip my glove off with my teeth after all, when she flinches then instantly goes still, like a rabbit under the gaze of the wolf.
I grin, arousal and triumph swirling together low in my belly, a toxic cocktail.
“Caught you, Songbird.”
“I didn’t know you were awake!” comes her reply, breathless with guilt. She tries to wriggle away from me, but my glove is off and my hand shoved down her pants before she has a chance to run or hide.
“And I didn’t know you were such a good actress,” I coo viciously against her ear as my fingertips find her clit.
Holy Mother of God, is she ever slippery down there.
Her clit is taut and swollen, rich with need under my touch.
I stroke it and groan, thrusting my hips forward the way I’ve been holding myself back from doing until now.
I told myself I wouldn’t touch her. Told myself I wouldn’t fuck her again tonight.
Told myself that wasn’t what she needed.
But maybe I was wrong, seeing how my sweet little liar of a Songbird was wide fucking awake while riding my dick through her PJs just now.
She doesn’t just need sleep.
She needs release.
With one swift movement, I’ve tugged her loose pants off of her and flipped her onto her back. I’ve got my hands on her thighs and my face buried between her legs before she can even take a breath to try to tell me, “no.”
She’s gearing up to say it now, though, I can tell. Or something similarly argumentative and disobedient. But I cut her off, drive all words out of her head with a hard, greedy suck on her clit.
She bucks and cries out, her quads straining under my fingers as I suck and circle with my tongue.
And then I go lower, deeper, tasting her soaked seam.
The slight metal tang of blood beneath her sweetness makes my dick pump uselessly against the air.
I dip my tongue all the way inside, needing more of everything.
More of her wetness, her blood, more of the little moans tearing out of her throat as if against her own will.
Her hands find their way to my head, her fingers burying themselves in my hair.
But it’s like she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer, and instead just digs her fingernails hard against my scalp.
That zing of slight pain from her nails goes straight to my balls, and suddenly I can’t stand not being inside her.
I can’t wait another minute. Not even another second.
I rise, leaving her on the trembling edge of orgasm, and drag her ankles up with me, keeping them pinned at my shoulders. At the last second, I lean to the side to flick on the bedside lamp. The first time I took her it was quick and hard, a crash of bodies in the darkness.
This time will probably also still be quick and hard.
But I’m going to watch her fall apart on me in the light this time.
Deirdre whimpers and throws her arms over her eyes, like she can’t bear to face the brightness, or me, or maybe her own treacherous desires.
She doesn’t have to watch if she doesn’t want to. I’ll watch enough for the both of us.
On my knees, her silken legs against my chest and shoulders, I line my fat, dripping head up to her sopping entrance.
My spine is practically vibrating, my balls hot.
My heart feels like it’s going to burst right out of my dick at the thought of sliding into that tight flesh I’ve already torn tonight.
Just the thought of it drives my hips forward violently, and I suck in a scorching breath as Deirdre’s channel envelops my tip.
Soon as I’m partway inside her she rips her arms away from her face, blue eyes wide and focused entirely on me. I drive myself deeper, fascinated by the way her face contorts with pain and pleasure at the same time.
I don’t necessarily want to hurt her.
But just like everything else – her body, her pleasure, her soul – her pain belongs to me.
Only me.
I brace, then give one more brutal thrust until I’m seated all the fucking way inside.
I could literally come like this. Without even moving, my agonized tip shoved up against her cervix, her wet walls stretching and convulsing around me.
Deirdre’s head is thrown back, her spine straining, her hands balled into fists around the bedspread.
She’s still got her yellow silk sleep shirt on, and I’m too far-fucking-gone to even attempt to undo all those buttons.
I seize each side of the garment and tug sharply outwards until silk rips and buttons go flying.
And then I can see all of her, bare and beautiful beneath me, skin so creamy and white with its delicate freckling.
Her nipples are flushed and pointed, and I run my gaze greedily down her form until it collides with the fiery thatch of hair between her legs.
I draw my hips back, groaning at the sight of my dick sliding out of her, completely soaked with her wetness. There’s an unmistakeable streak of scarlet in the slick, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I’d wanted to from shunting violently back in.
Deirdre cries out, and I splay a soothing hand – the one with the glove – across her abdomen.
My bare hand grips her right breast, rubbing her sensitive nipple beneath the puckered surface of my scarred thumb until her pussy gives a mind-numbingly exquisite contraction around my shaft.
She might be hurting, but she’s also still breathlessly close to coming.
I can feel it in the swelling of her cunt, the tightening of her muscles, desperately milking me even as she bleeds for me.
I don’t even realize I’m speaking, let alone that I’ve slipped into Italian, until Deirdre’s gaze finds mine, glazed with arousal and confusion.
Every thrust grows fiercer, making her breasts shake and her pussy clamp down as words spill out of me in an unstoppable tumble.
Words about how fucking good she is, how bad, how beautiful, how sweet.
How I’m going to marry her and fuck her again just like this, with her white dress hitched up high around her hips.
I tell her how much I want her, how I need her. How I own her.
I think I maybe even tell her that I love her, but at that point I’m too lost to sensation to notice. The words are breaking apart anyway, splintering in the air until they’re nothing but senseless, rasping grunts mingling with Deirdre’s high moaning.
I drag my hand down from her breast, drumming a demanding rhythm against her clit with my thumb, and I don’t even need to watch her or hear her to know that she’s coming.
I can fucking feel it. Feel the ecstatic flutter and clench of her pussy, drawing me deeper than I would have thought possible.
Her hips rise right off the mattress, and her blue eyes are fucking glued to my snapping pelvis.
I follow her gaze to the place where my dick disappears into her quaking body.
I don’t think there’s anything more blisteringly erotic or more painfully heart-searing than watching my blood-stained cock claim her over and over and over.
It makes me fucking feral.
I press down even harder on her clit until she shouts and spasms, twisting like a wild thing beneath me. I’m going to come. I can feel tension warming the base of my spine, my balls drawing tight.
Between bouts of thrusting heat, I feel something suddenly sharp inside.
It’s almost like dismay. Dismay that I’ll never be able to fuck this girl out of my system.
Every hit of her just drives me deeper, deeper, fucking deeper, until I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drag myself back out.
I’m lost to her in a way that I’ve never been lost to anyone.
Frankly, it is fucking terrifying.
I crash my mouth down upon hers, because I need to feel her more, need to feel something other than the overwhelm of my own unmooring obsession.
She doesn’t even try to fight me. Her mouth opens instantly, submissive for fucking once, and it sends me near out of my mind.
I surge into her with my tongue at the exact same moment my cock throbs and then explodes inside her.
I shove myself deeper even as I spew, like I’m trying to fucking crawl inside her.
And in that bleary madness I decide that it doesn’t matter if I’m lost to her, if I’m lost to goddamn everything, because the only thing I’ll ever need is right fucking here.
Moaning and trembling beneath me, wrapping herself around me half-unwillingly, like a part of her doesn’t want me but all of her fucking needs me.
And maybe I’m not even lost.
Honestly, how can I be?
How can I be when my home has become a person and that person is in my fucking bed, my arms, our bodies bound by agony and ecstasy and blood?
I said that to her the first time. We are bound together, you and I .
I feel it even more acutely now as I fill her pussy for the second time tonight.
Feel that throbbing connection, the blinding truth of it.
And the truth is that Deirdre O’Malley – soon to be Titone, thank you very fucking much – is mine.
Whether she wants to be or not.