21. Treasure #2
Then he stuffs his tongue inside me, deeper than any man could ever reach, and thinking is over for me.
He is not talking and he is not asking permission.
That tongue is not human. It curls and drags in and out of me while I swing upside down in his grip, and my whole world turns into his mouth and the blood pounding in my ears.
I can’t tell if I’m dizzy from the hanging or dizzy from him, and I quit trying to tell.
He growls into me, and the growl rolls through everywhere our bodies touch.
The sounds coming out of that monster are wet and downright shameless, and he wants me to hear every bit of it.
I come screaming, still hanging upside down, and he pulls his tongue out slow and swallows.
Then he grunts deep. His dick jumps right in front of my eyes, and he comes without a hand on himself.
It pulses out of him thick and heavy, spilling to the floor.
I stare in horror at the amount. It keeps coming.
His dick twitches with every pulse. He groans through all of it and never stops licking me.
Then his tongue pushes back into me, deeper, and I’m screaming again. I claw at his stomach and my toes curl in the open air. He starts the whole thing over from the top, and he is plain nasty about it. I love every part I manage to stay conscious for.
My fingers go numb and my legs quit kicking, hanging limp in the air while he finishes what he started. His tongue slides out of me and snaps back into his mouth. Then he flips me right side up and lays me on the bed, gentle as can be. I don’t understand how something that nasty can be this sweet.
I lie there catching my breath in pieces. He puts his hand soft on my chest and leans over me with the worry already back in those gold eyes. “Treasure??—”
“Don’t start.” I get a whole lungful of air and spend it all at once. “Shut up and fuck me like a monster.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I am going to worship you.”
Then he shreds my shirt and bra straight off my body.
If he keeps tearing up my clothes, I’m gonna have to update my wardrobe weekly.
He flips me onto my stomach and pulls my hips up in the air. We have not tried it this way, and there is a LOT of him to be trying it with.
But first he spreads me open with two careful claws and puts his mouth back on me.
That tongue works my pussy and everything else it can find.
My arms give out and my face drops into the mattress.
There are tears now, the good kind. Behind me, my ancient king-guarding gargoyle is drooling and gone stupid off my body.
I love it. Lord help me, I love it.
I throw a hand back at him. He catches my wrist mid-air and pulls his tongue free with that snap. He lays my arm right back down on the mattress where he wants it.
Then I feel the wide base of him settle against me, and my mouth falls open.
He pushes in.
He’s careful going in, and he is not quiet about it either.
He comes as he enters me, jerking and pulsing inside me with his claws pressed into my hips, filling me before he’s even halfway in.
He pushes deeper. I stretch around him in slow burning inches, fuller than I have ever been in my whole life, and the sound I come out with is not a word in any language.
He keeps going, deeper and deeper, until I’d swear on every tip I ever made that he’s up in my belly, in places nothing has ever been.
Buckle up, Treasure. You asked for the monster. Now you’ve got him.
He stays buried, still pumping his release into me. When he calms, he draws back, and then he stops. I peek over my shoulder and catch my giant kicking his pants down until they hang off one ankle. I would laugh at him if I had the air to spare.
Then he grips my hips tight and slams back into me. I find the strength to push up onto my elbows and scream.
He does it again and again, no rhythm left in it, only want.
He drives into me until his heavy sac slaps loud against my pussy with every stroke.
I grip the sheets as hard as my numb fingers allow and I take it, every slam, with my own tongue hanging out and my eyes rolling back.
I brace for each one and get rearranged anyway.
He is tearing my pussy up, exactly like his leaked thoughts promised.
And I remember how that thought ended. I would thank him.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
He pulls out of me so sudden it snatches the air from my lungs.
He flips me over and picks me up, and then he’s inside me again, standing now.
One arm does all the work, bouncing me on his dick, the other claw spread wide across my back.
My head falls back. I give up steering entirely, and what he craves is me, dropped deep onto him over and over while that tongue helps itself to my cheek, my neck, everything it can reach.
He’s close. And when I come again I squirt, all over him, all down the both of us. My release and his make an absolute crime scene of that floor. Do I care? Not one bit.
He slams me down a final time, and his roar shakes the windows. He presses his head hard to mine and empties everything he has left into me, every drop he’s been holding.
At this point, I hope he gets me pregnant.
Wait a minute. Would I lay eggs? Because I am NOT pushing big-ass eggs out of me.
He lifts me off him and carries me to the bed. He climbs in and sets me on top of his chest.
“I think I may have gotten carried away,” he says.
I push myself up to face this monster. My face is sweaty, there’s drool involved, and I can’t promise there’s no snot. My eyes are puffy from crying through the best wrecking of my life, and he thinks he MAY have gotten carried away. He said the same thing the first time.
He has got to be playing with me right now.
I faint dead away on his chest.
So this is what it means when you play too much with your monster.