Chapter 61 Danica
Danica
"Come on, baby, I know you've got one more in you," Rhyland growls, his voice a sinful caress that sends sparks shooting through my veins. "Give it to me. Give me what's mine."
I'm a quivering, boneless mess. My body wrung out from the relentless onslaught of pleasure he's inflicted upon me for the past…'I don't even know any more hours,' I feel like I've been fucked into oblivion and back again, every nerve ending raw and exposed.
So much for punishment, this is pure bliss wrapped up in a sadistic, sexy-as-hell package.
Sure, he spanked me all right. Each stinging slap sent jolts of electricity straight to my core, leaving me panting and writhing, craving more of that delicious pain.
And when he sank his fangs into my tender flesh, his venom set my blood on fire, transforming my already dripping pussy into a veritable waterfall of need.
Now, he's got me straddling his lap as he sits on a wooden chair, my hands bound behind my back with a leather belt.
The supple leather rubs against my skin, the sensation only fueling the inferno raging inside me as he impales me on his monster cock.
"So perfect," he growls. "This pussy is a fucking paradise, baby.
Wrap those legs tighter around me. Ride me hard, and take every inch of me. "
Holy shit, his filthy words short-circuit my brain, reducing me to a mindless creature of pure lust. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to bruise as he controls my movements, slamming me down onto his thick length until I see stars.
He edged me for hours until I was a writhing, whimpering mess, begging for release like it was oxygen and I was drowning.
I screamed, pleaded, and I cursed him. I even threatened to portal his sexy ass to the seventh circle of hell if he didn't let me come.
But he just smirked that infuriatingly sexy smirk of his and kept right on tormenting me—all just music to his sadistic little ears.
By the time he finally decided to show some mercy, my voice was so hoarse from all the begging that I sounded like a pack-a-day smoker with a severe case of laryngitis.
Now, he's making me come every five minutes—which I didn't even know was possible, and now I'm begging for a whole new reason. My body is so oversensitive that each orgasm feels like I'm being struck by lightning, pleasure so intense it borders on pain.
Rhyland's voice is pure sin, "Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful—taking my cock like a greedy whore." he rocks up into me, his tip bumping my cervix—that elusive spot that makes my eyes roll back. "Just like that, baby. Take it all."
And then, because he's determined to kill me with pure sexual pleasure, he leans forward and captures my nipple between his teeth. The sharp sting of his bite sends lightning bolts straight to my core, which, at this point, is a raging inferno of need.
I'm pretty sure I make a noise that's half moan, half whimper as he lavishes attention on my sensitive peak. It's like there's a direct line from my nipple to my clit, and every flick of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth, and the delicious scrape of his beard just winds me tighter and tighter.
The ship begins to rock violently, the motion adding a whole new intensity to our already explosive connection.
It's like the ocean itself is conspiring to drive me crazy, the rhythm of the waves synchronizing with the roll of my hips. I'm riding him hard now, rising and falling on his thick length like my life depends on it.
The wooden chair creaks beneath us, a counterpoint to our ragged breathing and the slap of skin on skin. I'm vaguely aware of the sound of waves crashing outside, but it's drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears.
Rhyland's grip on my hips is tight, "Fucking Christ, woman," He groans as he guides me up and down his thick length. "You feel that? The way my cock fills you up so perfectly?"
"Please, Rhyland," I gasp, my voice hoarse from hours of screaming and moaning. "I can't... I don't think I can..."
But even as I protest, I feel that familiar tightening in my core, that building pressure that signals another impending explosion. God help me, but it looks like my body's determined to give him exactly what he wants—one more earth-shattering orgasm.
He chuckles darkly. "Oh, you can, and you will, filthy girl. You'll come for me as many times as I demand. Because this pussy? This body? It's mine. And I'll take what's mine, over and over again, until you can't function."
And then I fall. My body crashes over the edge like a wave breaking, and I come with the force of a thousand suns. My body becomes a conduit for pure pleasure, and I come—hard. I clench and spasm around him, my nectar flowing over his cock and marking him as mine.
Rhyland growls, a sound of equal pride and sheer male satisfaction. "That's it. Good girl…" he praises. "Make a mess of me, baby. Let me feel how much I make you shake."
Holy hell, this man is my kryptonite! The way he gets off by making me lose control. With every release, I drench him, and the heat between us intensifies with every drop. He's the flame to my wildfire, the spark to my explosion, and I love every scorching moment.
Suddenly, Rhyland and I are flying across the small room as the ship starts its best impression of a bucking bronco. Outside, we hear men yelling, the wind howling, and waves battering the ship's sides.
Rhyland, ever the gentleman, quickly unties me and helps me get dressed. Now we're at the helm with Gideon, trying to keep our footing as the waves rise and fall around us like a demented roller coaster.
I swear to God, I'm going to grow fucking gills at this point. I'm half-tempted to portal back to the mortal realm and buy myself a damn wetsuit so that I can have a fighting chance of staying dry for more than five minutes at a stretch.
"What the hell is going on?" I shout over the crash of the waves, my voice barely audible over the roar of the wind and the pounding of the rain.
Bless his salty sea dog heart, Gideon grips the wheel tighter and grits his teeth. "Aye, it's the damn Sea Witch and her Dark Tides, lass," he yells back, his voice rough and strained with the effort of keeping the ship on course. "Best get back to shelter if you know what's good for you!"
Dark Tides? What the ever-loving hell? Calypso promised she wouldn't hinder my little quest for her, but apparently, the bitch lied. Is it because we killed Bloodbane, or does she know I went and had a little chat with Cordelia behind her back?
Before I can even begin to process this new development, Mirella is at my side, her eyes wide and urgent. "Dani, the Dark Tides, you must get below deck," she urges, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.
I nod, my hair plastered to my face in a wet, tangled mess. "Mirella, go," I shout, my voice nearly lost in the crash of the waves. "I'll be right behind you."
The clouds above us are an angry, roiling mass of black, the rain pounding down on us like a hailstorm. My clothes are soaked through, clinging to my skin like a second layer of flesh, and my hair is a soggy mess.
Rhyland, ever the protector, takes my hand and blurs us below deck in a flash of superhuman speed, his grip on me tight and reassuring.
As Rhyland and I stumble into the galley, trying to keep our footing on the wildly pitching deck, I'm greeted by a comforting and slightly disturbing sight.
Erik, Lucian, Seraphina, and a handful of the crew are all gathered around the table, looking like they're trying to ride out the storm by sheer force of will.
But when I see Seraphina, alive and well and not looking any worse for wear after her little misadventure with Bloodbane, I feel a wave of relief crash over me. "Seraphina." I cry out over the chaos. "Thank god you're alright!"
I try to rush to her, but the ship chooses that exact moment to rock, sending me reeling into the table like a drunkard. I manage to right myself, and somehow, I make it to Seraphina's side and pull her into a bone-crushing hug.
"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice muffled against her shoulder as I cling to her.
Seraphina squeezes me back, her arms strong and reassuring. "Yes, I'm fine, Dani," her voice soft and soothing despite the chaos around us. "Thanks to you."
I feel a tug on my arm, and I reluctantly let go of Seraphina, only to see Lucian reaching for her. Seraphina slides back into his lap, cradling his head against her chest like a mother soothing a fussy baby.
Lucian, for his part, looks like he's about to audition for a role in "The Exorcist." His face is a sickly shade of green that makes me wonder if he will start spewing pea soup any second now. But Seraphina holds him close, murmuring soft words of comfort in his ear as she strokes his hair.
Seeing the usually unflappable Lucian reduced to a queasy mess is strange, but I can't blame him. The storm outside is raging like a pissed-off kraken, and even with my sea legs, I'm feeling a little green around the gills myself.
I'm clinging to a pole in the middle of the galley, trying to keep my balance as the ship tosses and turns. Rhyland comes up, caging me against his body, anchoring me to him like he's afraid I might go flying off into the great beyond.
Mirella stumbles down the stairs, her usually graceful movements reduced to a series of flailing limbs and near misses as she tries to find something—anything—to hold onto.
"Well, this is just freakin' great," I rant as I grip Rhyland's arms hard enough to leave bruises. "Calypso obviously can't even keep a goddamn Coral Pact promise without trying to drown us all in the process."
I let out a huff of frustration as the ship takes a nosedive, sending us all stumbling. Mirella shakes her head, her red hair flying around her face like a mermaid in a wind tunnel. "Not Calypso," she gasps before the ship pitches again, sending her flying.