5. Lucy
Lucy
I left my wine at the bar hoping she’d take the bait. She does. Her energy beelines for me as I move to a secluded corner of the graveyard. Less people here, but no quieter. The rave music still blares bass and rhythm at visceral levels.
I duck under some overgrown trees. There are a couple of graves and one hole that was never filled to dodge, but it’s hidden enough that several couples and groups of people are fucking here. Alongside an array of others quite obviously sniffing a cocktail of drugs.
Not the most refined of raves I’ve been to, but what did I expect? The woman slips under the overhanging branches and makes her way over to me.
“Smooth, getting me to carry your drink over here for you,” she says, holding out my glass.
I reach for it, but she snatches it away and guzzles the lot before handing me the empty glass.
“The name is Midnight, in case you were interested.”
“I wasn’t. Unless you’re here to help me drink or fuck my way into oblivion.”
She tilts her head, not even trying to hide the fact she’s mentally undressing me. She hands me her original drink, which I take out of spite and swallow in one go. It sears down my throat, and I have to suppress the urge to vomit it back up.
“Well, Lucy , I guess it’s your lucky night. Those happened to be my exact plans.”
“Convenient,” I say, as disinterested as I can make it. Though I am far from it. Midnight wears tight leather trousers; I’d put money on her being a biker.
Gods, I bet she can do all sorts of things with leather. The thought makes me cross my legs as my clit decides to misbehave, pulsing in erratic beats between my thighs.
A hand scythe hangs from her hip. Interesting.
A reaper, perhaps? Her bright blue eyes pop against tanned brown skin.
And the more I look, the more I settle on the fact she has to be a reaper.
A weight lurks beneath her expression. It lives in the quiet curve of her smile and the tension in her shoulders.
She’s going to die, and she recognises it in a way most humans don’t.
Her hair is dark, shorn on the sides, long and floppy on top. What I would give to sit on those full lips and grind an orgasm out.
The thought makes me swallow.
“Where did you go, baby girl?” she says, her fingers guiding my chin back to her.
“Somewhere sordid, you wouldn’t like it,” I say, unable to hide the smirk.
I’m not a brat, though I have my moments.
I much prefer the release of letting go, letting someone control me.
I spend every day in charge, making decisions, lecturing my classes.
Sometimes, I just need to let go. Especially on a day like today.
That’s why I came here: a drink, a dance, and hopefully an orgasm.
Midnight leans into my ear, warmth radiates off her and trickles down my neck, straight to my nipples, which harden instantly. The scent of vetiver and grapefruit drift on the air. It’s fresh, intoxicating and makes me want to sink my teeth into her flesh.
“I think you should tell Daddy every single sordid thought that ran through that beautiful head of yours,” she says.
Daddy?
A bolt of excitement shoots straight to my clit.
A gasp escapes. I’ve never called anyone Daddy, never thought that was a kink I’d have or want.
“Well, Daddy…” I say, testing the word in my mouth, and gods, does it hit the spot. A part of me screams that it’s wrong, that if I lift the lid on why I like it, I’ll have to unpack a load of shit I don’t want to deal with.
But this is just sex. What does it matter when I won’t see her again? So I lean in and go full tilt.
“I was thinking about how much of a filthy little slut I was going to be tonight.”
She stiffens against me, the faint rush of her breath escaping in rapid huffs. Her fingers grip my arm and waist. We’re hidden beneath the trees, but not from the other couples.
“I only do one-night stands,” she says, suddenly serious.
“Good, because I don’t do anything more with humans.”
“Demon?”
I nod. Something flickers in her gaze, but it vanishes as fast as it arrived.
The fact she’s an awful lot younger than me might have something to do with my fleeting hesitation.
Though the way she holds me, assured, confident, safe, tells me she’d have no problem being anyone’s daddy.
And that makes my insides and any remaining fucks I had dissolve.
She runs her hand through my locks and then grips the back of my head and pulls me to her, plunging her lips over mine.
Her mouth is exquisite. Hard kiss against the soft curve of her lips. I think my heart leaves my body. She pulls off and growls.
“Get on your knees, Lucy. I’m going to take what I need from you, and then I’m going to make you scream louder than the music.”
Oh, my gods.
I’ve never dropped to my knees faster. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her, my underwear soaked at the image of her taking whatever the hell she wants from me, using me however she sees fit. My pussy throbs as she unbuckles her trousers and lowers her boxers just enough to give me access.
She loops her fist around my hair and yanks me to her pussy. As much as it makes my scalp sting with the force, my heart rate skyrockets, and my thighs squeeze together to muzzle the pulsing in my core.
I slide my tongue over her clit, sucking and licking and probing my way to her entrance. It’s hard, the angle isn’t right but maybe she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t spread her legs to give me access, so I take the message and focus on her clit.
“Oh gods, right there, suck Daddy’s pussy like the dirty slut you are.”
Fuck, I can’t.
I’ve never had anyone this vocal in bed, and it’s doing things to me. The filth coming out of this woman’s mouth, her grip on my hair and the taste of her on my tongue has me levitating out of my body.
Her words curl around my clit, making me climb my way to an orgasm before she’s even touched me. I undo my jeans button and slip my hand down to my centre.
But she tugs my hair hard enough to halt me. “Did I say you could touch yourself?”
I bite down a whine.
“Fingers. Now.”
I display them, coated in a sheen that shows her just how needy I am.
She smirks, pleased with the affect she’s having on me.
“Give them to me,” she demands.
I hitch up onto my knees and reach up to her mouth. She sucks my fingers, her tongue swirling over the pads to clean up every drop of my excitement. My nipples harden to painful buds beneath my bra. I don’t think I’ve ever needed an orgasm more in my life.
She guides me back to her pussy. Her clit is swollen against my tongue. She rocks her hips into me over and over as I lick and swipe and flick my tongue against her apex.
Her hips buck faster and faster until she’s jerking and erratic, and then she stills, a gasp drifting on the air around us.
She releases my hair, using her thumb to pull my lower lip down and stroke the tip of my tongue.
“Such a good little slut.”
I practically vibrate out of my skin.
She fastens her trousers back up and offers me her hand to help me stand. Then her lips are on me. They’re soft and full and so very fucking hungry.
Her kiss is bruising and exquisite. She grips me with the perfect amount of pressure that tells me she owns me in this moment. I haven’t had sex like this in so long it makes me ache for the loss of when it’s over.
She runs her palms under my thighs and taps, indicating for me to jump up. I do, and cross my legs around her waist. My hair falls, covering our desperate kisses.
She tastes like booze and mint and longing. I can’t get enough of her. I devour everything she gives me, wrapping my hand around her neck and whimpering as she breaks off to nibble my skin.
She steps forward, carrying us towards the fence. I remember too late.
“Wa—” I start.
But we lurch forward and then tumble and roll, crashing to a muddy stop. I thunk down on top of her.
There’s a beat. Two.
Did I kill her? That would be awkward.
She groans, wriggles and then flicks my hair off her face, takes one look at me sat on her chest and bursts out laughing.
I follow. Tears leak down my cheeks when I can’t control the hysterics. “I guess this is an omen,” I pant through the laughter.
She nods. “Well, we did say this was one night only. Landing in a grave while fucking kind of foreshadows it all.”
I laugh. “That’s dark, who hurt you?”
A flicker washes through her expression. Oh, she was hurt? I open my mouth to ask more sensitively, but she grabs me by the hips and flips me onto my back, attacking my trousers and yanking them and my underwear off.
“We’re doing this in a grave?” I ask.
“Do you want an orgasm or not?”
I shut my mouth.
The pit isn’t long enough for me to be on my back with her between my legs, so she swings underneath me and shuffles me up her body until she can lower me onto her mouth.
Her tongue slips between my folds, parting me as she laps up my excitement.
She moans into my cunt, rocking and tilting my hips as I slowly grind onto her face.
A sick thought washes through my head that I could sink lower, suffocate her and she’s in a ready-made forever bed. But then I’d lose out on what is building to be an intense orgasm.
Her tongue flicks faster and faster. She uses her lips and flattens her tongue then makes it soft and light and it all drives me fucking wild.
My head tips back. She releases her hold on one hip and lands a smack on my arse as I rock harder and harder on her mouth.
My pussy tightens, my clit swollen and throbbing. Everything clenches and then releases. Electric pulses surge through my body as I twitch and rock, seeking out those final aftershocks of pleasure.
After my day, I needed this. And she has the perfect tongue. Perfect enough that I am gutted it’s a one-off.
She frowns. “What’s—” she points at my neck. “Never mind, I’m seeing shit.”
“Seeing?”
She shakes her head. “I thought there was something on your neck, but it must have been the light.”