55. Angélique
55
Angélique
E lhyor is ravenous now that I’ve told him I wanted this. I probably should warn him that I never had sex before—my fingers don’t count—but somehow, I don’t think I have to worry about him going too hard for a first time, seeing as how he managed to restrain himself until I said the words.
This kiss is so much more than the previous we shared. It feels like he lost control, and a bit of his beast came to play with me. It’s raw and seductive and yet urgent like he can’t get enough of me. He brings us back to the bed, slowly dropping me to the bed without ever letting our lips lose contact. It feels like he wants to drink me in, to taste me and even devour me. It is delicious and I don’t know why we didn’t do that earlier.
Actually I know, but let’s forget about my—thankfully—failed attacks .
He finally stops kissing me, and our breaths are a mess. His lips are slightly red from the kiss we shared and as he stands, one knee on the bed all I can see is the bulge in his pants. I felt it against my pussy minutes ago, but now I can only wonder if that thing is going to fit.
Even through his pants, I can see that he’s massive.
“This needs to go,” he says, his eyes solely focused on my body, as his chest rises and falls.
“You don’t like my wedding dress?” I ask. It was supposed to be cheeky but I think it goes out more like a breathless tease.
“You look divine in this,” Elhyor says as he strokes his hands from the sides of my ankles to my knees, “but I’ve dreamed of that perfect body of yours since I heard you moan my name on the first night you were there,” he adds with a glance to the doors that delimit our two rooms, “and I want an unobstructed view of what is mine.”
I feel wetter at those last words even if I know he means I’m his just for tonight. We still have tomorrow, but after that, like for Notre Dame, there won’t be anything left of us.
“So that dress, as beautiful as it is, is not what I want right now,” Elhyor says as his hands slide on the sides of my thighs, before parting them enough for his other knee to come on the bed, making him kneel between my legs.
I suddenly feel exposed and I fight against myself not to close my legs, but he’s gripping my thighs like he wants our skins to melt together and there is no way I want to miss what is about to happen.
“It has to go now,” he says, his heated eyes pinning me to the bed.
I try to raise on my elbows, but he’s still slightly bent over me, and I struggle to open the zipper at the back without falling again on the bed. That’s when I feel his right hand change over my left thigh.
I freeze. I look, enraptured, as his pointer and middle fingers elongate and slowly turn a darker color, until they’re black and the nails turn into claws. I should be scared, but I’m mesmerized by the level of control Elhyor has over his shifted form.
No, I shouldn’t be scared, I should be outraged, because I know what’s coming before he even starts to claw the top of my dress and the fabric tears like it was butter under his fingers.
“I liked that dress,” I pout without meaning to. I didn’t like it when it was white, but I went to great lengths to get it the way I wanted it.
“I‘ll get you a new one,” Elhyor answers as he parts the two sides of the now split dress and uncovers my body. His hands brush against my skin as he does so, and goosebumps spread over my skin, when I know for a fact that I’m burning inside.
Elhyor isn’t doing much more than looking at me, trailing his eyes over my body as if he maps every dip, scar, or mole my body has. Then his hands trace the same path his eyes did just minutes ago. They’re like feathers against my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach, but they still spread fire under my skin and light all my sensations up.
He still has his two claws out and I wonder why until he reaches the top of my panties and cuts both sides to remove them.
Did I say I felt exposed earlier? This is worse, but at the same time I’m holding my breath because as much as I want to complain about him destroying my panties, I want to feel him on my skin even more.
I reach for his pants, but Elhyor bats my hands away and sits on his heels as he looks at me.
“This isn’t about me for now, Little Devil, so be a good wife and spread those lovely thighs for me.”
Did someone turn the heater on? My skin is on fire and I’m probably blushing, because I didn’t know until now, but I might like dirty talking with my sex. Or maybe I just like Elhyor’s dirty talk.
But two can play that game. I might be a blushing virgin but I can see in his eyes that he likes what he sees so, I open very slowly my thighs and discard the pieces of panties that are still hanging to my body before I decide that if Elhyor wants to watch, I’m going to give him a show.
I slip my fingers between my legs and so very slowly I dip my pointer and middle finger inside of my pussy and then spread the wetness over my clit as I circle it in small movements. Elhyor’s eyes are glued to the motion of my fingers as his tongue peeks out of his mouth and wets his lips. He looks ravenous, and it doesn’t take much for him to snap and move my hand away to replace it with his own.
But what I didn’t expect is the fact that after replacing my fingers with his, he picks up the hand that was between my thighs and brings it to his mouth.
All I can hear is the moan he makes and my blood pumping so loud that it drowns everything else.
It probably doesn’t help that Elhyor didn’t pick up with the same rhythm I used to tease him. No, instead his fingers are using a much faster tempo that makes me see stars and before I know it, I’m a writhing mess and I moan so loud that I’m pretty sure everyone in the cathedral can hear me, but I don’t care. I thought I knew what my body liked and how to get me to orgasm, but it was nothing compared to how I feel right now. It feels like all my skin is raw and lit up from inside. It feels like my skin is too small to contain my pleasure and it keeps growing and growing until I can’t think anymore and I cry Elhyor’s name as I come.
He looks at me from where he stands, smug and proud, and I can’t even fault him because he did a pretty damn good job.
I’m moving again to reach for his pants, but he grabs both my hands and brings them on either side of my face before kissing me. He’s punishing. He’s wild, and he claims my mouth like it’s the best prize he’s ever tasted in his life.
But then he raises his head again, my hands still in his.
“If you keep moving without asking for permission, I’m gonna have to tie you up, Little Devil,” he tells me with a devilish smile.
“Try if you can,” I goad him, not really knowing yet if my mind is on board, but from the reaction of my body… I’m willing to try.
“Don’t play with fire, Little Devil, you’re lucky I have other plans for you tonight,” he says against my skin as he trails open mouth kisses on the side of my neck, “I have a lot of plans,” my collarbone, “plans I have painfully replayed in my mind for over a week,” the left side of my breasts, “plans that have been torturing me with images of you on my bed,” the right side of my breasts, “plans I couldn’t get out of my mind,” my right nipple, staying longer toying with it and twirling his tongue around, “plans I had to doze off with cold showers because it felt wrong to jerk off to you when all I wanted was your pretty cunt wrapped around my cock,” my left nipple, he bites it and then smoothes it again with his tongue, and I don’t know if it’s all those torturous kisses or his dirty words in between, but I’m so drenched and sensitive that I think I could come again just like that.
But Elhyor isn’t done.
His kisses trail again along my stomach, circling my belly button and then going down some more until he takes a deep breath and kisses my lower lips as if they were my mouth. It’s insanely erotic and filthy and I love it.
”Plans I have on the tip of my tongue now,” he says before flicking said tongue against my clit.
“Elhyor,” I moan his name once again.
“That’s right,” he says before thrusting his tongue inside of my pussy. “I want my name on your lip as I fuck that sweet cunt of yours, first with my mouth and then with my cock.” He twirls his tongue faster around my clit and I feel my pleasure rise inside of me again.
“I want all of Notre Dame to hear you moan my name. I want them to know who you belong to.”
Then he stops talking completely and releases one of my hands to thrust two fingers—blessedly back to being human fingers—into my pussy as he swallows my clit between his lips and flips his tongue with a speed I didn’t know was possible.
And oh god, does it work for me.
Because I can feel my orgasm coming and coming and once he finally finds my G-spot with his fingers, all I can do is blissfully let go and black out.