4. Rune #2
"Hell no," he answered, that long finger curling inside me, withdrawing to smear the essence of my arousal over my clit, making me whimper again, making my knees threaten to give out, making my tits ache and my nipples throb into diamond erections, making all of me go hot and wild with the need to reciprocate—to touch, to taste.
I didn't play-struggle, then—I genuinely fought his hold, trying to free my hands so I could get them around his massive cock.
It was futile—he was too strong by several orders of magnitude; he held me without effort, without having to grip too tightly.
The reminder of how much stronger than me he was should have frightened me, but it didn't. I continued to thrash against his hold, growling like a trapped wildcat, but those growls and snarls and mewling, frustrated whimpers shifted to gasps and pants and huffs of ecstasy as he fitted his finger inside me again, withdrew, smeared it circles over my clit, and then thrust two fingers into me, once again giving my clit a single, teasing swipe of his fingers.
"Duncan!" I whispered. "Please."
He shoved my hands hard against the door, extended at arm’s length overhead, dipping at his knees to suckle a hard nipple between his teeth. "Fuck, Rune. Your body is fucking goddamned perfect. You're goddamned perfect."
Another thrust of two fingers into my clenching channel, another single swipe of fingertips against my aching bundle of nerves. "Duncan, dammit," I hissed. " Please ."
"Please, what, Rune?"
I didn't know what I was asking for—my need to have his cock in my hands warred against my need to be touched. I wanted both in equal measure.
He answered for me. "If I let you touch me, this'll be over before it starts. And I need to taste your pussy." He reared back to stare into my eyes as he slid his fingers out of me and put them into his mouth; his eyes shuttered, and he groaned with unfeigned, delighted arousal. " Fuck ."
"Duncan!” I gasped.
I found myself airborne, squealing in shock as gravity evaporated. Duncan had me in his arms, one around my shoulders, the other under my knees, and he was carrying me across the tiny room, mouth fusing to mine. I tasted my essence on his lips, and…I liked it.
"Is…is that how I taste?" I whispered against his mouth.
He stood at the foot of the bed with me in his arms, liquid brown eyes searching me. "Yes. Never tasted yourself?"
“No," I answered.
He lay me on the bed with exquisite gentleness, his big, hard body over mine radiating heat and demanding my hands.
I feathered my fingers through the soft, cool silk of his hair and down the column of his neck, raking fingernails over his back, eliciting a shudder from him.
One of his hands was fisted in the mattress by my ear, the other toyed with my breast, tweaked my nipple, carved down my waist to cup my hip, and then his fingers were inside me, thrusting deep and gathering my essence.
Withdrawing.
"Watch," he commanded.
My eyes flickered open in time to see him slip those fingers into his mouth, and my pussy spasmed at the way he licked them clean with aroused relish.
He dipped them inside me again, curling deep to press against my inner walls, causing me to jerk with a sudden blast of orgasmic heat; withdrawing slowly, he circled my clit—twice this time. My thighs squeezed together, and my knees did too, clenching around his hand.
"Open your legs for me, Rune," Duncan ordered.
Whimpering with arousal, I gradually relaxed, letting my knees sag away from each other, and then rolling my thighs apart.
"More." He cupped my pussy with his hand, covering it, palm grinding against my turgid clit. "Open up for me, Smokeshow."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Because it's what you are. A fucking smokeshow." He ground the heel of his palm against my clit. "Open up for me. All the way."
"Duncan…" I whispered. "I need to touch you."
"Not yet," he muttered. "Not till you come."
"Then make me come, dammit," I hissed. "I need you."
He laughed at this, a low rumbling of amusement. "Not in a hurry, babe. Gonna take my sweet time."
He lowered his shaggy head and kissed my lips, and then my breastbone, and then his teeth were sawing gently around my nipple, and his nimble tongue was dancing over the flesh where his teeth left me aching, and I could only gasp and whimper, press my hips up to beg for his touch.
While he was licking, biting, and suckling my tits, his palm was grinding rough, hard circles against my clit, and my ass muscles were forced to clench hard, pushing me into his bruising touch.
Heat rose in my belly, boiled behind my clit, pressure pulling taut the wires connecting my nipples to my clit.
The more he licked and lapped and laved and nibbled and teased my nipples, the harder my clit became and the more his rough, grinding touch sent thrills of need rampaging through me.
Ache built in my nerves, need burgeoned in my sex. Pressure swelled. Heat became incandescent, white-hot. I shuddered all over, clutching helplessly at his shoulders, scratching at his back, knotting fingers in his thick, shaggy hair.
"Duncan!" I gasped, as orgasm threatened. "Oh god."
"I can't wait," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "I need to taste you."
His weight was gone, then, and he was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, and I was left shaking and achy and confused as he merely knelt there and stared at me, hot brown gaze raking my naked body.
"Duncan?"
"C'mere, Rune." I started to sit up, but he shook his head. "No." He pushed at the inside of my knee. "Open for me."
I knew what he wanted, but I was embarrassed to do it.
Embarrassed to offer myself to him, to display myself for him.
I'm not ashamed of my sexuality—far from it, but Duncan just did something to me.
Made me aware of myself. Made me aware of my need, made me aware of my nudity, of my arousal. How wet I was.
But the need to come was stronger.
I scooted to the edge of the bed, gnawing on my lower lip in arousal and embarrassment. Slowly, I drew my legs up, knees together, until my heels pressed into my ass. Duncan just knelt there, eyes on mine, patient, heated.
"Let me see that pretty little pussy, Rune," he whispered.
Breath caught in my lungs, I bit my lip until it hurt, hyperaware that no one I've ever dated or slept with has ever spoken to me this way, has ever looked at me the way he was, has ever demanded these things of me.
No one has ever stared at me as if I was his last meal.
No one has ever drawn out my pleasure like this—for his own enjoyment.
No one has ever delayed his own gratification for mine.
It was the last one that convinced me to obey.
Panting in equal parts fear, arousal, and mortification, I eased my knees apart inch by inch. Duncan’s eyes were fixed on the apex of my thighs, a grin spreading across his face the more of me I exposed for him. When my legs were splayed all the way open, his grin was all teeth and arousal.
"Look at you," he breathed, awed. His finger trailed delicately down my seam. "Fucking perfect. Fucking gorgeous."
"Dunc," I pled. "Please. I…please."
He nipped a tender fold of skin on the inside of my left thigh, and then smirked up at me. "Please, what, Rune?"
I grasped his head, fingers tangled in his hair. "Put your mouth on me. Eat my pussy. Please. Make me come."
“Thought you'd never fucking ask." He open-mouth kissed my pussy, then, lips on my nether lips, tongue sliding up my seam and pressing in. A raw, rough, ragged groan escaped him. "You taste like honey."
I could only gasp.
Another slow lick. My hips bucked. A string of firecrackers detonated inside me at the swipe of his tongue as it ended at my clit, swirling in soft circles.
"Oh-oh-oh—fuck!" I hissed, my grip on his hair going brutally tight as I held him against me. "More. More. Fuck, please, don't stop."
"Stop?" he echoed, his tone belying disbelief. "Try and make me. I'm not stopping until you've come so hard you don't know your own goddamned name."
I cried out loud as he slid a finger inside me, and then a second one, curling them against that spot high inside me, and his lips suctioned around my clit and his tongue drilled against me.
I arched off the bed, thrusting against his mouth and finger as the first wave of climax cracked open inside me.
He tongued me through it, two fingers massaging my inner walls as they clenched around his digits, and then I collapsed to the bed, panting and whimpering.
Now his tongue fluttered and slithered against my clit in soft, slow, delicate licks, barely touching, teasing.
His fingers, though—they fucked me. Plunging in and out hard and fast, he fucked me with his fingers while teasing my clit, and now that wave of climax morphed into a surging wall of ecstasy battering me into wailing, hip-thrusting abandon, my hands clutching his head, heels pressed into the bed.
The orgasm shattered, the wall and the wave dissolving and becoming a hurricane, a mad swirl of arousal and ecstasy.
He fondled my tits with his other hand, cupping a breast, pinching a nipple, twisting and flicking, caressing and holding, and all the while his fingers plundered my pussy, squelching in and out hard and fast.
I thought I knew what an orgasm felt like. I thought I'd had generous, skilled lovers before.
I hadn't.
Duncan seemed to know my body as if he had some kind of user’s manual.
Every time I thought I reached the peak of climax, he did something else that made me come even harder.
And then, just when I thought I couldn't come any harder, when I thought for sure I'd come as hard as I possibly could, he backed away and let my body settle, and then…
He did something new.
A change in pace, slowing his fingers as they slid in and out of me, speeding the swirling of his tongue.