58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
Kyrielle is such a pretty picture right now, with a swollen, spit-covered mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. Before her, I never wanted another mouth down there ever again.
But her mouth? I want to live inside it.
Her body flushes with desire, and those flame-filled eyes sparkle with excitement.
She’s loving every bit of this, which sends a thrill of appreciation straight to my heart.
Dominating her is a pleasure I never knew could exist. Now, I’m reveling in it.
She had better not think this is the only time she’ll submit — it definitely won’t.
I twirl a finger. “All fours, Firefly. Show me that pussy.”
The naked Fire Sprite is quick to obey, baring herself to me without hesitation. I groan at the sight; at the pink, glistening gift waiting for me to destroy. She whimpers when I graze a finger along the seam.
I smack one of her reddened ass cheeks. She hisses. I undress, tossing the clothes aside. I’m five seconds away from spilling onto the carpet; I want her that badly.
Grabbing my length, I press the head against her wetness, soaking the tip. She’s not prepped enough to take it, but the teasing feels delicious. Her head dips as she whimpers again.
“Please,” she whispers.
I grin. “What are you begging for?”
“You.”
“What part of me?”
“Your cock.”
To tease us both further, I press it against her entrance but don’t sink inside. Her body isn’t quite ready, but I push in until there’s resistance, then pull out. After a few times, we’re both breathing heavily and sweat beads my forehead from the restraint required.
Letting out a dramatic sigh, I rub one of her ass cheeks affectionately, letting my cock rest right at her entrance. Her body vibrates with need; her elbows waver in their support.
“You’re not quite ready,” I say softly, pressing a hand between her shoulders. Her arms relax until her face rests on the mattress, ass still in the air.
“I’m very ready,” she insists.
I spank her, savoring the sound of her squeal. “Are you telling me what to do? That can’t be, because that would be punishment worthy.”
“Maybe I am,” she challenges.
I let out a dark chuckle. “Pretty girl, we’re about to find out exactly who is boss right now.”
“Me,” she insists, but with a little fear in the tone.
Replacing my cock with two fingers, I offer no warning when I slide them into her body. She hisses, then moans, body already clamping around them. So greedy.
I spank her again, relishing the way her walls squeeze in response. She likes it. To even things out, I spank the other cheek, enthralled with the way it jiggles from the impact. Goddess, she’s so miraculous.
So perfect for me.
Working my fingers in and out, I growl, “You might be the boss most of the time, but right now, pretty girl, I’m—” I thrust my hand forward, shoving the fingers deep until she lets out a guttural groan. “—in charge. And I will not—” I spank her ass, earning a scream. “—tolerate any sass.”
When I do it again, she lets out a sob of pleasure. Rubbing her pink ass, I say, “Understood?”
“Yes,” she cries out, fingers clutching the blanket for dear life.
Instead of praising her, like she wants, I stick my thumb in my mouth, coating it in spit. Carefully attuned to her reaction, I hold it against her tight hole, keeping my other fingers at a steady pace in her pussy.
She inhales sharply as every muscle tenses. I pause, waiting for the safe word. When it doesn’t arrive, I gently press against it in the same rhythm as my fingers. Almost instantly, she’s shaking her head and moaning so frantically, she might actually be losing her mind.
Fantastic.
“Use your fingers,” I command. She reaches between her legs, frantically circling her clit.
“Ah, ah,” I admonish. “Not yet. Slowly.”
She lets out a pathetic whimper, but obeys. She’s soaked; there’s no question about whether or not she’s prepared now. Pressing my thumb into her tight hole a little more, just enough to make her gasp with surprise, I pick up the pace.
“Match my rhythm, baby.”
Kyrielle obeys — goddess, I love it when she obeys — and together we work her toward an orgasm I’m positive will shoot her to another realm.
“That’s it,” I praise. “You’re doing so fucking good. Your pussy is magnificent. And when you finally cum, when I give you permission, I’m going to make you mine. Would you like that?”
She’s barely intelligible, but I think she sobs out an affirmation. Grinning, I focus on where I’m working her body into a frenzy. Her body is taut; the orgasm is right there.
“Are you ready to cum?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“Y-yes,” she practically screams.
“Ask for permission, baby.”
“Please, Trinte, let me cum.”
“Okay, pretty girl. Cum on my fingers.”
It’s incredible, feeling her body tighten, sucking my fingers in, making it impossible to move them. Her ass shakes as she convulses from the pleasure, and she releases a primal scream that immediately cements itself into my memory.
“So good,” I praise. “You did so well.”
Kyrielle whimpers, the tension unwinding itself from her body. Slowly, I remove my fingers, admiring the mess. Sucking her cum from my fingers, I appraise the situation. Consider how to proceed.
Eyeing that virgin spot of skin at the bottom of her neck, my smile widens. Fisting my cock, I thicken it a little more than she normally asks for.
Tapping her ass affectionately, I ask, “You alright?” She mumbles something unintelligible. I chuckle. “Are you ready to be mine, Firefly?”
Peering over her shoulder, Kyrielle says, “Since the day I met you.”
Oh, that was the best and worst wrong thing she could’ve said. Pressing the tip of my cock at her entrance, I say, “You remember that.”
I slam into her.
Kyrielle’s back bows as she shrieks, trying to sit up. I press a hand between her shoulders as I pound into her so hard, the sound between us turns vulgar. She screams with each thrust, white knuckling the blanket.
“You’re so fucking good,” I say between gasps. “You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.”
After this, I’m going to make love to her so sweetly, she’ll cry.
But right now? I’m going to consume her so thoroughly, she won’t know who she is without me.
I grab her creamsicle hair with a firm yank. She props herself up on her hands, eyes closed, mouth full of shrieks and moans.
With my other hand, I spread her legs as far as they’ll go, so I can scramble up her insides more thoroughly. Letting go of the hair, I wrap the hand around her throat, pulling upward until my chest is flush with her back.
Rutting into her, I bring my other hand to her clit. Kyrielle is so lost in what I’m doing, I doubt she’s aware of what’s about to happen.
Using the hand around her throat to tilt her head, I eye that beautiful piece of flesh ready for my fangs.
“I love you, Firefly.”
I sink my teeth into her neck.
Her scream turns into a moan as her blood tangs against my tongue.
Ecstasy singes my blood, blanking out all extra thoughts, honing my reality to the taste of her against my tongue.
Frantic hands clutch at both of my arms like an anchor.
Her body softens, and I instinctually bite down harder.
Never in my life have I marked someone, and it feels right for it to be this dream of a woman.
For her to be mine.
Kyrielle’s body shudders, and the orgasm taunting me for the last however much time coils, ready to decimate.
Releasing her neck with a gasp, I mutter, “Are you close?”
All I receive are unintelligible sounds.
Growling, I slam into her repeatedly, harder than I have in my entire life.
The tension in both of our bodies collides as our orgasms rip through us at the same time.
Her body glows and my Fyre roars, burning inside my chest to meet her heat.
My world rearranges itself as I fill her up, making her mine in every way that matters.
Her body's languid and pliable by the time I come down from my high.
Kissing the mark and licking away lingering blood, I release her throat.
With considerable care, I separate our bodies, already sad to not be inside her anymore.
Pressing another kiss to her forehead, I hurry to the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm water.
After everything, aftercare is vital.
Taking the blanket underneath her, I wrap her until she’s snug.
Gently, I lift her into my arms and situate us so I’m leaning against the headboard with her cradled in my lap.
Her eyes glisten with tears as she lets out a whimper, but I’ve heard and seen enough of her tears to know these aren’t borne of anything bad.
“Hey,” I brush some of them away. “Talk to me. What do you need?”
She shakes her head. After a few attempts, Kyrielle says, “That was phenomenal.”
I laugh, relaxing. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Stroking away a strand of sweaty hair, I ask, “Do you need anything? Water?”
She shakes her head again. Instead, she nestles further into the blanket and my arms. “Just hold me.”
“I can do that.”
We stay in silence, catching our breaths. Her body still shakes from the intensity, so I speak to her softly, peppering her face with tiny kisses.
“You did so well, baby girl. You’re so beautiful, did you know that?” She hums, eyes closed, growing sleepy. My heart expands seventy times its normal size at her implicit trust in me.
Holding her closer, I whisper, “I’m going to love you every day of my life, Firefly. Whatever you need, you only have to ask.”
Her breathing steadies, finally asleep. I smile, watching her expression relax. I touch her lips reverently, then trace along her jaw. I spent thirty-five years waiting for her. And in two days, when I wipe this world of my father, I’ll have everything required to live my life in peace.
***
The Speed Dating Event
Kyrielle’s chest flushes with the pleasure that just made her bite the Hells out of my palm, but there’s so much more I’m about to deliver. Keeping my eyes on hers, I undo my belt. She swallows hard, watching my fingers loosen the buckle.
From my back pocket, I pull out my wallet, removing the condom I keep stashed. Keeping her legs wide, Kyrielle leans forward, palm out. “Let me.”
I raise an eyebrow, but I’ll obey anything coming out of those pretty lips. She rips it open with her teeth, then reaches into my boxer briefs. I inhale sharply through my teeth, already close enough to embarrass the fuck out of myself.
Pulling me closer, Kyrielle holds my gaze as she rolls the condom on. Each torturous stroke has my chest burning for oxygen, seemingly uninterested in filling my lungs enough. Her fiery eyes keep me captivated as she shifts her hips forward and guides the head of my cock to her entrance.
“Make it count,” she murmurs, lifting her mouth for a kiss.
When I sink into her tight warmth, I know there’s a problem immediately.
Because she feels so fucking good, I don’t know how walking away will be possible.
When her legs wrap around my waist, it feels like my reality’s altering.
How can someone as beautiful, funny, and sexy as her just … walk out of my life?
Impossible.
Grabbing her ass, I jerk her flush against my body and begin moving, watching every micro-expression for a clue on how she’s feeling.
Something flickers in her eyes; I can’t help but wonder if it’s the same realization I’ve just come to.
Soft hands thread through my hair as she presses our foreheads together.
At first, we don’t make a sound, enraptured by the way our bodies join.
She lets out the smallest whimper, breaking something inside me. My hips have a mind of their own as we slam together. I’m so desperate for this, for her, I practically want to crawl inside her body and give her pleasure every single day of her life.
She meets each thrust with enthusiasm, finally moaning loud enough that I have to put a hand over her mouth again, using the other to grip her ass with a sense of possession I don’t recognize.
Kyrielle’s breaths are hot and quick against my fingers. “You like this, don’t you?”
She nods, crying out when I tilt her hips upward.
“I need you to be silent, pretty girl. Can you do that for me? So I can make this better for you?”
Doubt flashes in her eyes, but she nods again. Slowly, I release her mouth, crushing my lips into hers while I bring my fingers to her clit. Finding the pace that makes her moan the loudest against my tongue, I stick with the pace until her body tightens more and more.
My pace becomes punishing, desperate to fill every inch of her with this … this incomprehensible need to make her mine. I want her to walk out of this bathroom and never look at another man, or fuck another man, the same way ever again.
When she shatters, I swallow the scream and shove it into my soul for safekeeping. For the nights when I think of this night and wish I could walk away from the gym. That I wasn’t someone with significant issues that made me unloveable.
I pound into her until my orgasm wrenches me from reality, exploding over every cell in my body.
It’s an orgasm like never before, lingering past the initial spasms. Longer than any I’ve ever had with anyone else.
This chemistry between us is more than sexual compatibility — I’m just not sure how to articulate it.
Yes, I’m well and truly fucked when it comes to Kyrielle.
When we both ease down from our high, we stare at one another. Her panicked expression most likely reflects my own, because what in all twelve Hells and Heavens was that?
She breaks the silence first. “That was …”
“Spectacular?” I offer.
Nibbling on a lip, she mutters, “That’s one word for it, yes.” To my disappointment, she’s pushing me away gently. Closing those delectable thighs. Closing me out. While I tuck myself back in and pull up my pants, she adjusts her dress.
With a smile that appears a little too forced, she says, “Best bathroom sex of my life.”
Best bathroom sex? Not ever? I find that extremely hard to believe. But I don’t say that, because this bathroom is all we’ll ever have. Tossing the condom in the trash, I blow off the comment with a chuckle.
“Well, maybe one day we’ll meet again in a bathroom.”
She frowns, then quickly turns it into a smile. “Yeah, maybe.” Grabbing her purse, she gives me a long look before walking to the door. “Thanks, Trinte.”
For what? A good fuck? A reckoning? Because the latter is what has cremated my sense of self. “You’re welcome?”
Her eyes flicker again with something I’m desperate to discover. “Have a good night.” She unlocks the door. With one last, long look, the Fire Sprite leaves me in the bathroom, surrounded by her scent.
It takes me a long time to leave the bathroom; the crushing disappointment leaves me too emotional to face strangers.
Why does it feel like something monumental just happened?
And why does it feel like nothing will ever be the same, ever again?