Chapter 9 Selene #4
“Should I go on, or do you want me to stop?” he asked mockingly, delighted by my physical reactions and well aware of how aroused I had become. I gave him a swat on the bicep that must have felt more like a caress to him.
“Keep going,” I answered in a shy voice.
Neil accepted my invitation immediately and moved rapidly in the darkness.
I felt his hands grope for my hips to pull off my panties.
I raised my pelvis to help him and felt the fabric gliding down my thighs.
Once he’d taken them off, he slowly traced a finger over the contours of me.
He seemed to be studying me, like a sculptor might his masterpiece.
He meandered over the soft slopes of my body, searching for my bra clasp. He unfastened it deftly as soon as he found it, inviting me to take it off entirely. His every movement was certain and confident.
He didn’t say a word, but with one abrupt movement, he flipped me over.
I let out a surprised cry at finding myself suddenly on my stomach, my breasts compressed against the mattress.
I had briefly hoped that he wouldn’t choose this position again. It felt like he was still trying to overpower me, to bring me to heel and leave me no escape.
He forced my hips up, arranging me until my face was pressed to the pillow, my back arched, and my butt in the air.
He maneuvered me easily, manipulating me the way he liked, and I lay there, completely exposed to him and his cock, which rested stiff and hot along the cleft of my ass.
Then he began to move languidly, preparing us both for what was about to happen.
I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but even with one hand, Neil pushed me back down easily. The message was clear: He wanted me to hold still.
“You are unbearable when you get like this,” I grumbled against the softness of the pillow. When he decided that he wanted me, there was nothing I could do to turn him away.
He drew one finger down the curve of my spine, provoking a series of intoxicating chills.
My muscles were all subject to his touch, tortured in his inferno.
Neil leaned over me, his warm breath touching me, and he began to kiss down my body from the nape of my neck.
He proceeded delicately down my back until he arrived at my butt cheek, which he bit.
I flinched in shock, and he massaged the sore spot, not realizing the ferocious pleasure it had kindled in me.
“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” His sultry voice diffused through the darkness, making everything feel surreal. “The men in that club were panting after you, wanting to touch you, but I’m the only one who can have you. Remember that, Tinkerbell,” he told me forcefully.
I smiled slightly, and he grasped my hair in his fist, using it to tilt my neck back.
I gasped at the ferocity of the movement.
“You are my Neverland,” he said with feral possessiveness.
I felt his breath again, tickling my ear this time.
“…never stop,” he finished assertively, then I felt his penis nudging between my butt cheeks, right up against the spot that had never been breached by anyone.
I held my breath and went rigid. I was nowhere near ready for that next step, and Neil seemed to sense that, moving down to my thighs to tease my pussy, which was waiting eagerly there for him.
I sighed with relief, and he laughed at me.
He was probably delighted to have alarmed me, like my heart wasn’t pounding hard enough in my ears already.
When his laughter died down, I realized what was about to happen.
He thrust inside me with one decisive stroke, finally pulling me completely out of slumber.
He demanded my full attention. My toes curled, and I screamed, but not in pain.
I curved against him, and Neil emitted a raspy groan.
He filled me completely and then held himself there motionless for a moment.
He stretched out over me, one hand still clasping my hair, and pulled back his hips to give me that first vigorous thrust.
So, caged beneath him, I was conquered and captured by his body, incapable of moving or fighting.
It was as though I had a god between my thighs.
A shiver passed through me. Neil knew that I was ready for him; he could feel how wet I was for him and how perfectly I reshaped myself around his powerful erection.
Then, he began to move.
It was marvelous to hear his panting breaths, his chest like marble gliding against my back, and the movements of his hips getting stronger and more relentless.
Pleasure, passionate and undeniable, spread from the middle of my chest out to my nipples.
I started sweating and tightening around him in an attempt to sate his endless hunger, his constant desire.
Feeling him in such an intense, enveloping way knocked me off kilter, just like it always did.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning aloud, though it was almost impossible to resist.
“Speak up, Tinkerbell. I want to hear the pleasure you get with me, but especially…from me,” he murmured into my ear before slapping my ass, and it was impossible not to scream at that point. Neil laughed, proud of himself, and I pushed aside my prudish sensibilities to give myself over to him.
I felt so full of Neil, I even feared that I was already about to climax.
I knew how it was going to end: I would beg him for relief, and he would deny me until he’d completely worn me out. His movement wracked me like a wild tempest; each powerful stroke between my thighs was like a bolt of lightning.
Neil slipped a hand along my abdomen, moving up to my breast, and pinched one nipple between his fingers so hard that I couldn’t breathe.
I went stiff. My body accepted his thrusts, trying to stand up against the energetic assault.
Only when he pulled out for a momentary pause was I able to catch another breath, but that was such a fleeting instant that I didn’t really get time to enjoy it.
He slid back into me and moved into another brutal series of thrusts, determined to make me explode. I felt that my life was inextricably tied to his, the way light is tied to the stars.
Neil was a dark knight taking hold of my plumage; he pierced me like a lance, and he slashed me like a sword.
He sucked the soul from me like an insatiable beast, and my intoxicating orgasm broke over me without warning.
It was as devastating as it was unexpected.
I clamped around him again and again, enveloping him completely as I came. I shook all over as I tried to catch my breath.
I knew Neil wasn’t going to stop, though—my response only made him more eager.
He kept fervently pounding me into the bed, taking advantage of my body’s lassitude and my wetness to speed up his strokes and prolong the pleasure.
Annihilated by this lusty passion, I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.
It was too much for me.
Neil could make me lose my mind and could make me rage, dream, and hope for an us that might never exist. I was aroused by the physical sensations and irrepressible feelings that he gave me, but I would have liked our contact to be more intimate.
I wanted to kiss and touch him to really forge an emotional connection, but he seemed to be focused exclusively on branding me as his.
I sometimes found his ferocity unnerving, but when I heard his quiet panting, I knew it was the sound of a man who was truly getting pleasure from me.
He was there with me, mind and soul.
I could sense the understanding between us.
His toned chest hovered over me, and I couldn’t move a muscle. My heart was beating like a wild thing. For a moment, I had the urge to wriggle out of his hold, to push him off me, and to flee from his savage ardor, but I dismissed that idea quickly because I knew that I could not help myself.
Neil wasn’t just a guy who knew what to do in bed, who could make himself and a woman feel good—he was so much more than that.
He was a universe of secrets, an unexplored landscape, a puzzle with no easy solution.
He was an abyss of chaos and disorder.
Of loneliness and strangeness.
Every time he gave himself to me, I realized all over again why so many others had fallen for him.
I called his name until, with a few final savage thrusts, he stopped.
He clutched the sheet in one hand, the other still clasping my messy hair, and then his body stiffened.
His climax came with a guttural shout, and hot jets of cum shot deep inside me.
His orgasm was so powerful and vivid that it shook the both of us.
He slumped on top of me, exhausted. His chest heaved relentlessly, his breathing went wild, his body was tense and sweaty, and he weighed heavy on my back for a few seconds while his penis remained inside me, unmoving.
We both stayed silent, just basking in the union of our heated bodies.
Neil was satisfied to have fed his unhealthy appetite, while I was feeling pretty pleased with myself that such an attractive man wanted me enough to sneak into my bed in the middle of the night.
Even though he was a train wreck of a man, as grim as the abyss and as unpredictable as a storm at sea, I loved the bitter, savage, indomitable creature that lived within him.
How long was I to remain this incurable lunatic?
How long was I going to let him devour my flesh to sate his desires?
Was there some way to recover from love?
What if he was my cure?
After what felt like an eternity, I squirmed a little to let him know that he was crushing me with his weight. Neil propped himself up on one elbow and stroked my hair. I could barely make out his face from that position, while he must have been looking at my profile.
There could be no eye contact between us, and I was glad for it.
I was so twisted up inside that I would have been embarrassed to be analyzed by his devastating eyes.
“Everything okay, Tinkerbell?” he murmured with a hint of irony.
He was worried about me?