Chapter 26 #2
I push against him again, my chest brushing his, bringing us even closer.
"So good," he coos. "Oh, you're such a good listener when you need to come. Now, I'm gonna slice these cute panties off, and you're gonna keep sliding this little cunt up and down my leg until you scream."
"Oh, my god," his promise of delirious pleasure almost drowns out the other part of what he said. "Slice?"
His nose runs against mine as he nods, "Mhmm. I bet there's a knife right..." his hand near my hip slips between the couch cushions, "here."
"What the hell?" I hear myself mumbling as the iridescent steel shines in the light. "How did that get there?"
He chuckles, "No clue. Just knew it would be.
" Then the blade slides across my lower stomach, and the tender touch makes me fucking shiver.
If I were in a more lucid state of mind, I might be able to wonder if he has weapons hidden throughout the entire apartment and when he could have put them there.
But right now, the only thought consuming my mind is how good it feels to be pressed against him, how wholly overwhelming he is.
The metal blazes a trail down my center, grazing my clit through the damp fabric, making my whole body tremble.
Cormac groans, watching with the focus of a hawk, those nearly black eyes locked on my skin and the blade tracing my opening with expert precision.
Across my thigh, the bite of it almost breaking skin makes me hiss, and then the tip slides underneath the strip of fabric over my hip.
He twists and pulls, and the sound of fabric ripping fills the air, joining our panting breaths.
Traversing across the dips and curves of my body, drifting across my clit again with a feather-light touch, he drags to the other side, repeating the motion with a clean, sharp slice, the straps of my panties falling free to my sides, leaving only a tiny scrap of destroyed fabric between my core and Cormac’s thigh.
With a self-satisfied hum, he closes the blade, tossing it onto the coffee table, looking over his work on destroying my underwear and any sense of self-preservation I had left.
Using a touch so delicate I almost can’t believe him capable of it, he reaches between us, using two fingers to grab the ruined fabric. Leaving only an inch of space between his leg and my dripping core, he slides my panties out from underneath me, holding them aloft with a wicked grin.
They join the knife on the coffee table, and Cormac’s full attention falls back to where his leg is near enough to my cunt that I can feel the warmth radiating off him.
He groans, placing both hands on the sides of my head, caging me in his arms as he looms over me.
His gaze falls on mine, hungry and victorious, just as his thigh meets the needy heartbeat thundering between my legs.
The slight pressure, just holding it there alone, is nearly enough to bring me to orgasm. Whether it’s the high of adrenaline or the fear or the slight burn of pain still radiating across every inch his knife kissed, I’m not sure.
All three, probably.
But no matter what it is, there’s no denying the proof of it, the absolutely guttural moan that escapes me immediately.
Cormac’s chuckle is downright vicious, “Yeah?”
The drive to tell him to shut the fuck up sits right on my tongue, but before I can, he presses into me, the muscle on his thigh grinding into my clit, pulling another needy moan from my throat.
“Oh, yeah,” he answers his own question, grinning down at me, all sharp teeth and feral intent. “Fucking hell, you’re so wet, Brig. Tell me how bad you need this.”
“I don’t,” I lie through gritted teeth.
With another grind against me, his thigh rubs my clit and opening, and I can feel how much I’m soaking his leg.
“Oh, Bunny,” he fake pouts. “I’m getting so tired of you lying to me.”
Before I have a chance to plead my case and keep this fucking ruse going, he wraps an arm around my waist, dragging us up until I’m straddling his thigh, all my weight pressing me down onto the hard strand of muscle.
A mangled cry from the surprise and the sudden change in pressure barrels out of me, making Cormac groan, settling into the couch and gripping my bare thighs with both hands, his fingers digging almost painfully into my skin.
Barely containing a growl, he uses his hold on me to move me back and forth, spreading my fucking slick all over his leg, making me moan, the sensation on my clit overwhelming.
The look on his face is feral, his eyes locked on my cunt where it’s sat on him.
One hand buries into my damp hair, angling it and forcing me to look down.
“Look at us,” he moans. “Look at how fucking pretty you look, leaking all over me.”
Jesus Christ, his mouth.
But there’s no denying how fucking hot it is. As he moves my body and I follow his guidance, rocking my hips back and forth, I can see the red kraken peeking out from between my thighs, my folds parting around it, my pussy leaving it all shiny and slippery.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, his fingers flexing at my nape, the sharp pull sending tingles down my spine, between my legs, and into my painfully hard nipples. “You’re so beautiful, Brigit.”
His praise leaves me overwhelmed, and I release a pathetic, whiny whimper.
His hand leaves my hip, smoothing across and up my stomach, “Keep going, Bunny. You don’t get to stop until you come all over me. But fuck, I have to taste these fucking tits.”
“Please—” I choke on my words, my whole body overwhelmed with need. “Please don’t cut my bra. It was so expensive.”
He chuckles, “Say please again.”
My lips form into a sad little pout as my brain tries to focus on how to make words again. “Please?” The whimper miraculously slips out.
His hand falls from my hair, and before I can even take a breath of relief from my scalp being free, his fingers pinch the back of my bra, making it immediately fall down my arms.
Cormac’s jaw drops and his brows furrow before he frantically grabs the straps and forcefully pulls them from me, tossing the bra onto the table.
A hot, heavy breath blows across my now bare chest, and it’s all the warning I have before he roughly wraps one hand around my throat, using the other to hold one of my tits up near his mouth.
Just before his hot tongue makes contact with my body, he pauses, looking up at me with wicked eyes, “What did I say?”
“What?”
“I said keep going,” he blows on the nipple, refusing to give me the relief of his warm mouth until I comply.
With his hands on me, his lips inches away, and his strong thigh against me, I’m utterly powerless.
My hips move, drawing out his reply of a depraved, wild growl.
Watching for my reaction, he flattens his tongue, running it over my nipple just like he did to my pussy at the meadery, slow and filthy.
A loud cry flies from my mouth, and his eyes roll back in his head before they close. He teases the sensitive peak again, this time taking it into his mouth and sucking with a blissed out hum.
Biting and licking and sucking, he torments my breast with his mouth before moving to the other and repeating it, dragging desperate, pleading moans from me by force.
Lost in the sensation, I can feel the orgasm building, my clit fucking tingling as it moves against his leg, my whole pussy painfully empty, chasing the high and aching for him to fill me.
His hand wrapped around my throat is likely the only thing keeping me from begging him to fuck me. I don’t think I could form the words right now, no matter how hard I try.
The sounds flowing out of me have ceased being separate at all, just one moan and cry after another, bleeding into each other until I’m nothing more than a writhing bundle of nerves and sounds.
Cormac groans into my skin, releasing my nipple with a last harsh bite that makes me fucking scream.
With his commanding hand around my neck, he pulls me in until we’re mouth to panting mouth.
“You’re doing such a good job, Bunny,” he moans against my lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. “You gonna come for me, Brigit?”
I nod.
There’s no fucking point in trying to hide it or stop it.
“Yeah?” I nod again, and he nods with me, grinning manically against my mouth.
“Yeah, this pretty pussy’s gonna gush all over my thigh.
Then you’re gonna lick up the mess so maybe you’ll stop— fucking— pretending,” each angry word is punctuated with a flex of his fingers around my throat, “you and your cunt don’t fucking crave me. ”
The second those words leave his mouth, a screaming orgasm slams into me, starting deep inside my core, the almost painful flexing of my pussy making my legs shake.
A loud, sympathetic moan echoes around me, Cormac moving my body for me when I can’t anymore, dragging me back and forth to keep the high going.
Every wave of pleasure, every clench of my body around nothing, all of it is brought to unimaginable heights with his rumbling voice floating endless praise into my ear.
“You’re so fucking beautiful right now.”
“Sounds so good, Bunny.”
“Fuck yeah, keep going.”
“You’re not done yet.”
“You can give me a little more.”
When my body is well and truly done, wrung out and destroyed by the orgasm, his hand wrapped around my throat moves me again, bringing us face to face. With a tender, brief kiss to my lips, he brings me back to earth before asking, “You good, Brig?”
I nod the best I can, and his replying smile is wholly unrepentant and self-satisfied.
“Good,” he kisses me again before roughly maneuvering me. “Now get on your fucking knees.”
My legs land hard on the wooden floor, leaving me kneeling between Cormac’s legs.
And two things become overwhelmingly clear.
One, his tattoo is soaking wet, shiny, and smells like my pussy, like I left my mark all over him, making me even wetter and needier even though I just came.
Two, his cock is so fucking close I could taste it, trapped beneath his boxer briefs, and leaking precum, the little spot on the dark gray making my mouth water.
Before I have a chance to chase the desire coursing through me, he takes my hair tenderly in his hands, making a ponytail with his fist to hold it out of my face.
Looking at me expectantly, he waits silently.
Swallowing the degradation and the way it makes me hot and achy all over, I slowly lean towards his thigh and drag my tongue along the shiny tattoo, slow and flat, tasting my orgasm and his warm skin.
He releases a throaty groan that I feel all the way to my toes, and I need to hear it again, so I follow the lick with another, gathering every drop I left on him.
He sighs, “You are a vision on your knees, Brig.”
Watching his face, I drag my tongue over him again, drifting higher, closer to the line where his underwear begins to cover his thigh.
With a wicked laugh, he tugs on my makeshift ponytail, stopping me from getting any nearer to his cock that I want in my mouth so bad I might actually beg.
His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head, “No, baby, you’re not done yet.”
He’s right. The orgasm I left behind is all over the giant red tattoo, but I’m done tasting myself; I want to taste him.
Focusing wholly on my task, I suck and lick across his thigh, reveling in every harsh breath and groan he tries to keep down.
Once I’m fully satisfied that the mess is taken care of, I try my luck at moving north again, desperate to see if I can make him unravel as easily as he does me.
At the meadery, I vaguely recall him fucking his fist while his face was buried between my legs, but I didn’t get to really see it, too lost in my own fucking pleasure to register any of it.
But now, all I can think of is to wonder if he’ll shout when he comes in my mouth, or if he’ll let out another wild growl and fuck my face with the same precise brutality he does everything else.
“Bunny,” he groans. “You did such a good job. You want me to feed you this cock?”
I desperately nod.
His chest caves in on a heavy breath, and he looks pained, staring down at me with furrowed brows, the obvious wet spot from precum calling my name.
I lean in and lick the spot, my eyes rolling back in my head from the taste and the heady power I feel down here on my knees.
His answering moan is so harsh and loud, it’s closer to a fucking bark than anything else.
“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he mutters, tightening his grip on my hair.
“I know.”
With a depraved, relieved groan, Cormac reaches with one hand to his waistband, lowering it to—
A knock on the door breaks us both out of the trance.
“Fuck,” he mutters, standing suddenly and pulling me to my feet just as quickly. “Skyler. Go get dressed.”
The only word to describe my current state as I glance down at the still clothed cock I won't get to taste is devastated.
“Stop looking at it or it’ll never go down,” Cormac pleads. “Please go get dressed so I don’t have to kill Skyler for seeing you like this.”
Against my will, I quickly run away from him, down the hall, and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
I shouldn’t be this disappointed. Shouldn’t be disappointed at all.
But for a few minutes, I couldn’t think about what we’ve just done, what I’ve been through tonight, or even all the other bullshit going wrong.
All I could think about was how good everything felt, how much I loved turning my brain off and just being a living embodiment of desire.
There’s no denying any of it anymore.
The escape Cormac offers is addictive. He’s addictive. So much so that I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
And as terrifying as that thought is, the idea of going back to not having him at all is a fate I don’t think I’d accept.