Chapter 38 #2
Her ass cheeks are round and tight, her pale skin unblemished. Hooking a finger around the elastic that runs down her crack, I pull it aside to reveal her pussy. Her lips are pink and delicate, a sweet temptation for my taking.
“I don’t think—”
Her words are cut short when I curl two fingers and slide them into her. There’s no preparation, no preamble or slow stretching, just her arousal coating my middle and forefingers, just me watching with a boner from hell as I split her open and bury my knuckles inside her.
She wobbles, her knees buckling as I add a third finger and fuck her in all earnest with my hand.
Reaching around her, I grab her wrist and place her palm on the vanity.
She clutches the edge to keep her balance as I use my free hand to rip off the thong and let it fall between her feet on the floor.
I pull out and smear her wetness over her clit before rubbing the button with the heel of my palm.
She goes on tiptoes, either embracing the pleasure or trying to get away from it, but I don’t let her escape.
I lower my head between her thighs and taste her with a long, leisurely lick.
She shivers under my onslaught and cries out when I bite into her plump folds.
I take my time licking and sucking, and by the time I’m fucking her with my tongue, she’s so wet, she’s dripping all over my face. But she’s not coming. Not yet.
Rolling her clit between my fingers, I apply just enough pressure to give her a bite of pain with her pleasure. I use my other hand to unfasten my buckle and unzip. My cock is stiff and ready, nearly combusting when I rub the crest over the apex of her sex.
She arches her back and moans my name. In response, my dick twitches in my fist. I trace her slit, gathering her slickness, and then I split her open, barely giving her a second to adjust before I slam home.
God, but she’s tight.
Hot.
I can get lost in her. Am lost in her. All other thoughts desert me. All that’s left is the way she surrounds me, her smell that invades my senses and her pussy that milks my cock… her essence that flows like a drug in my veins, turning me into an addict. Weak.
Never enough. I can’t ever get enough of her.
It’s not just her body. It’s the gentle way she looks at Noah, her elegance, her strength and resilience, and the very fucking way she walks. Always like a queen.
I pump like a madman, chasing some illusive reward, wanting her very soul. I almost forget about using a condom.
When her pussy clenches on my cock, I rip out and paint her thighs with my cum.
My release drips in white rivulets over her skin, and the sight of my mark on her is so hot that it turns me into a thing I don’t recognize, some primitive, animalistic beast that winds an arm around her waist and anchors her to me so she can’t get away.
While aftershocks rack her body, I drag my fingers through the cum on her thighs and pump it into her back hole with my fingers.
Fuck waiting.
I want another child with her. I want that more than anything.
She comes again, shaking in my hold, but I don’t let up.
As improbable as it should be, I’m already hard again.
Or maybe I’ve never gone soft. I pin her to me and stretch her ass with my fingers.
She arches into me, panting with a heaving chest as I give her time to catch her breath while I lubricate my dick with my cum.
The reprieve only lasts a second before I push into her back hole. She cries out, her breathing turning harsher. I know it hurts, but I also know she likes this.
My command is harsh, my control slipping. No, it’s gone. “Tell me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “More.”
I give her more, deeper and faster. Still, I’m careful, holding back the full force of my lust and strength. I hold her to me with one hand splayed over her stomach and the other between her legs, rubbing her clit until her tight channel softens around me.
When she screams out her orgasm, I come again, slamming a hand over her mouth as I climax in her ass. The pleasure is dark and devastating, a vicious snare that has sunk its iron teeth into me, its rusty brown poison injected into my bloodstream and cutting straight to my heart.
“Fuck.” I pull out and stumble away from her, not sure if I’m running from her or from myself. “Don’t move.”
She hangs her head between her shoulders, barely carrying her weight on her arms. Like the cruel bastard I am, I keep her upright with my hands locked on her hips so that I can watch. Maybe if I see my mark in every hole of her body, I’ll convince myself that she’s truly mine.
I stretch her open, her ass and her pussy, taking in everything. Owning all of her. She’s mine with a ring and a contract, by name and by blood. I paid for her in others’ blood, but she paid for me with her blood. She carried my baby and suffered his birth alone. So much guilt. So much blood.
“Fuck.”
I let her stand there, only taking enough time to scoop up her torn underwear before I run away from the guilt that follows me like a shadow. In her case, the loss of her memory haunts her. For me, it’s the memories that torment me. They’re getting stronger with each passing day.
In the privacy of the bathroom, I take a moment to find my composure while I chuck the thong in the trashcan and adjust my clothes. Then I wet a washcloth with warm water before I go back and clean her.
She turns to face me when I’m finished. “I need another shower. We’re going to be horribly late.”
“No.”
The harshness of my reply surprises both of us.
Brushing my lips over her ear, I tell her the truth. “I want you to feel me in every hole of your body. I want you to remember how deep inside you I’ve been with every step you take tonight.”
Biting her lip, she only looks at me. I can’t be sure what’s going on in her mind. But she’s right. We’re late. Too late.
I take a new thong from the drawer, crouch down, and hold it open.
She obediently grips my shoulders and lets me pull it over her legs.
I straighten her skirt and cup her cheek when I stand.
At least I haven’t made a mess of her make-up.
I haven’t kissed her mouth, although I want to.
Her lipstick is a bit smeared from my hand.
Only a few strands of hair came free from her updo.
She still looks like a queen. Only, now she has a flush on her cheeks.
I lean in but think the better of it. “Run, Tatiana, while you can. Or I’ll take you to the party with ruined lipstick and bite marks on your neck.”
“You’re beyond saving,” she says, only partially teasing.
“Yes.” I let her go. Step away from her. Put a safe distance between us. “But you like that I’m savage when it comes to you. It shows you the effect you have on me.”
The look she gives me has me hungry again in a second flat. I spin on my heel, hating my weakness. “Give me five minutes.”
And not looking back, I head into the bathroom and take six. It’s not before ten that I trust myself enough to face her again.