Chapter 9 #2
His approval rumbled through his chest. I felt him shift beneath me, repositioning slightly.
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance.
The first breach made me gasp, not from pain but from the intensity of the sensation.
He entered me with agonizing slowness, allowing me to feel every ridge and texture of him.
"Breathe," he commanded, his own voice strained with the effort of his control. "Relax and take me."
I tried to follow his instruction, focusing on my breathing as he continued his careful invasion of my body.
Despite my arousal and his own natural lubrication, a slick fluid that seemed to warm on contact, the stretch was intense.
He was bigger than any human, the ridges along his shaft creating friction that sent jolts of pleasure-pain radiating through me with each incremental advance.
"So tight," he groaned, one hand gripping my hip to steady me. "You're perfect, little star. Made for me."
He bottomed out with a final, careful thrust, the blunt head of his cock nestled deep inside me, heat radiating outward.
I felt impossibly full, overstuffed and deliciously stretched, every twitch sending aftershocks of pleasure through my core.
The chain of the collar swayed with my labored breathing, the weight of it a constant reminder that I was giving myself over, body and soul.
He started to move, just a little, small, rolling thrusts that sent the ridges of his cock dragging along my most sensitive spots.
The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, every friction-stretch-slick of him inside me coaxing out little whimpers and gasps I couldn't have suppressed if I'd tried.
He was so big, so much, that each movement threatened to undo me completely.
The first true thrust punched a cry from my throat, the sensation overwhelming.
As I began to ride him, or rather, as he used his strength to move me on him, the silver chain hanging from my collar swayed with each movement, occasionally tugging against the leather and creating a delicious pressure against my throat.
His claws dug into my hips, never breaking skin but leaving impressions I knew would bloom into bruises by morning.
"Look at you," Krampus murmured, his lips pressed to my ear. "Taking all of me. Every inch."
I moaned, head lolling to the side. He rewarded me by shifting one hand to my front, fingers dipping between my thighs.
He found my clit instantly, circling it with perfect, relentless pressure.
My whole body seized, the sensation nearly too much with the fullness inside me and now this wicked, focused touch outside.
"You're going to cum for me," he promised, and it wasn't a question. "You're going to make a mess all over my cock, aren't you?"
I could only nod, tears pricking my eyes from the intensity.
I felt wrung out, every nerve raw and bright, my body shuddering as I struggled to hold off the inevitable.
I didn't want it to end. I wanted to live in this suspended moment forever, where nothing existed but his hands on me, his voice in my ear, his cock splitting me open and making me whole.
He sped up, thrusts getting rougher, the ridges dragging harder against my walls.
The chain at my collar tugged with every motion, the pressure at my throat combining with the stimulation between my legs to send me spiraling.
I could feel his own control slipping; he rutted up into me with a bestial need, his claws digging into my skin just enough to leave marks but never enough to truly hurt.
"Say it," he growled, voice thick with hunger. "Say you want it."
I gasped, the world narrowing to a single, desperate point of need. "I want it," I cried, the words spilling out with abandon. "I want you, I want—"
He cut me off by slamming up into me, the sudden brutal force of it knocking the breath from my lungs.
I shattered around him, pleasure crashing through my body in a violent crescendo that left me sobbing with release.
My inner walls convulsed, milking him, drawing him deeper.
I felt him swell inside me, felt the pulsing heat as he came, the sensation so overwhelming it triggered another, smaller aftershock of pleasure.
He held me through it, arms locked tight around my torso as I convulsed and trembled in his lap.
The aftershocks faded slowly, leaving me limp and spent, my head tucked beneath his chin as I gulped air like a drowning woman.
For a while, all I could do was cling to him, breath coming in ragged gasps as I tried to process what had just happened.
I was aware of his heartbeat, wildly fast at first, then gradually slowing to a steady thump against my back.
I was aware of the mess between my thighs, of the way his cock still pulsed inside me, of the new constellation of marks he'd left on my body.
But most of all, I was aware of the quiet.
The peace that had settled around us like a warm blanket, the utter silence of a world that, for once, required nothing from me but simple existence.
My breathing gradually slowed, my head lolling back against Krampus's shoulder in the quiet aftermath.
He remained inside me, his cock still thick and pulsing occasionally, his arms wrapped securely around my waist. The café had fallen completely silent except for our mingled breathing, the only movement coming from the gentle twitch of holiday lights casting a dreamlike glow over our intertwined forms. I felt drunk on sensation.
His claws traced idle patterns across my stomach.
"Tell me what’s on your mind," he murmured, his breath stirring the curls at my temple. "I can practically hear the gears turning."
A small laugh escaped me. "Sorry. Occupational hazard. My brain doesn't have an off switch."
"Mmm." The sound rumbled from his chest. "And what is it spinning about now?"
I considered deflecting with humor or changing the subject, my usual tactics when conversations veered too close to vulnerability. But the collar around my throat felt like permission to be honest, the weight of it a constant reminder that I'd already crossed the line from pretense into truth.
"This," I said simply. "Us. How... safe I feel right now." The admission was harder than I expected, the word "safe" catching slightly in my throat.
His arms tightened fractionally around me. "Safe isn't usually what people feel after encountering a demon with a penchant for punishment."
"I know." I let my hands rest on his forearms, feeling the silver veins that ran beneath his red skin.
"That's what makes it so strange. I spend all day making everyone else feel comfortable, welcome, cared for.
But right now, for the first time in... I don't even know how long.
.. I don't feel like I need to be useful. "
One of his hands moved up to trace the edge of the collar at my throat, the touch sending fresh shivers down my spine. "And that feels like safety to you?"
"It does." I closed my eyes, leaning more fully into him. "Not having to be perfect. Not having to hold everything together. Just being allowed to exist as I am, messy parts and all."
He shifted slightly beneath me, adjusting our position without separating our bodies. The movement sent a pleasant aftershock through my core, making me gasp softly.
His silence encouraged me to continue, his steady breathing and warm hands grounding me in the present moment.
"Most people," I continued, "when they see the broken cracks in someone, they either pretend not to notice or they immediately try to patch them up. They get uncomfortable with someone else's pain or uncertainty. They want to make it better, or make it go away, so they don't have to witness it."
"There is nothing broken about you that needs fixing," he said, each word delivered with quiet certainty. "There is only truth that needs acknowledging."
I settled back against him, feeling the steady thump of his heart against my spine, the heat of him warming me inside and out.
The collar at my throat felt like an anchor, keeping me tethered to this moment of perfect honesty.
For once, I didn't need to worry about tomorrow.
the café, the holiday party or my uncertain future.
I existed purely in the present, held securely in arms strong enough to catch me if I fell.