Chapter 56 Elowen
ELOWEN
The feeling of being filled is even better than I’d dreamed—more than the curse-driven ache ever promised.
Theron is so deep inside me—a hot, hard presence that stretches my inner walls in a way that is both shocking and utterly perfect. There’s a faint burn—the memory of my untouched body yielding—but it’s swallowed whole by the overwhelming rightness of having him in me.
The Drake’s magic precum must have helped because he fits. And even better, he fills the hollow, aching emptiness the witch’s spell forced into me—not just in my body, but somewhere deeper, in my soul.
I can feel every inch of him—the pulsing heat…
the thick girth…the way my own body clings to his.
My forehead rests against his shoulder, and I can smell his skin—clean sweat and masculine spice and something uniquely Drake.
We are as close as two people can possibly be, joined in the most intimate way, and for a dizzying moment, the world outside this crimson-cushioned throne ceases to exist and all I know is him.
But the need doesn’t cease—the curse still rides me, urging me to do more, to take more.
The pleasure should be a deep, throbbing wave, but it’s still just a shallow pool, and I need it to move.
I need to feel his thick shaft sliding in and out of me—thrusting deep and then deeper.
The stillness between us is becoming its own kind of torture.
“Please, Theron,” I beg, my voice a breathless whisper against his neck. “I need to move.”
I feel the rumble in his chest before I hear his words.
“All right, baby,” he growls, his hands settling on my hips, big and warm and steadying. “Just take it slow.”
“I will,” I promise.
Bracing my hands on his broad shoulders, I lift myself. The sensation is exquisite—a deliciously slow slide as his thick shaft withdraws, leaving me feeling strangely hollow. Then I sink back down, taking him in again—a little gasp escaping me as he bottoms out once more, filling me completely.
It’s good—so good—but it’s still not enough. It’s not enough for me to move on him—I need him moving in me—thrusting in me—filling me up.
I know it’s not a good idea, but the curse is a drumbeat in my blood—a frantic rhythm that demands more.
“Please, Theron,” I pant, rising and falling again, setting a hesitant pace. “I need more—need you to fill me up.” The words are torn from me, raw and honest.
He stills my hips with his hands, forcing me to look at him. His silver eyes are dark, molten with a desire he’s barely keeping leashed.
“Are you asking me to fuck you, baby?”
His voice is a low growl, and the crude word sends a fresh jolt of heat straight to my tightly-stretched pussy.
“Yes,” I moan—beyond shame, beyond thought for the future. Right now, I’m nothing but need and all I can think about is having him fuck me.
“You know I might lose control,” he warns, his voice gravelly. “You’re so fucking tight and wet… I might come in your tight little pussy. I might change the color of your eyes.”
“I know,” I moan, rocking against him, desperate for friction. “I don’t care. Please, Theron, move inside me—fuck me.”
My own dirty words hang in the air between us, and I see his eyes blaze with pure lust. My plea seems to break something in him. A groan is ripped from his throat, part surrender, part pure lust.
“Gods, baby… I shouldn’t, but I can’t say no to you. Hold on,” he tells me.
Then his hands tighten on my hips, and then he takes over.
He lifts me effortlessly and drives me back down onto him, piercing me to the core and setting a new, devastating rhythm.
This is no longer my tentative exploration—I feel it in my bones—it’s a claiming.
It’s a long, slow, deep stroke that steals the air from my lungs, followed by another, and another and another.
Theron doesn’t hurt me…but he doesn’t take it easy on me either. Each thrust is measured and deliberate, hard enough to make me gasp as his rigid shaft hits a place deep inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his gaze locked on where our bodies join. “Fuck yourself on my cock… spread your sweet little pussy and let me fill you up.”
The pace quickens…the slow, deep pumps become harder and faster. The wet, rhythmic sound of our joining fills the silent chamber along with my helpless cries and moans.
Then Theron shifts the angle slightly, and on the next thrust, a cry is torn from me. He’s found a spot that sends electric pleasure arcing through my entire body.
“Oh! Right there!” I hear myself begging. “Theron, please, right there!”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promises, his voice strained, hammering into that exact spot with unerring accuracy. “Take it…take all of me… Gods, your sweet little pussy is gripping me like a fucking vise…”
I am unraveling.
Pleasure coils tighter and tighter—a spring wound to its breaking point.
My nails are digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders, and my thighs are trembling around his hips.
I am nothing but sensation now—the slap of skin…
the searing fullness of him stretching me to the limit…
the rough caress of his trousers against my inner thighs…
the scent of both of us mingling in the air.
“Oh, I’m getting so close!” I sob, my head falling back. “Don’t stop, Theron—I’m almost there!”
“Let me help you, baby,” he tells me, his voice thick.
One of his big hands leaves my hip and slides between our sweat-slicked bodies.
His thumb finds my swollen, aching clit without hesitation and begins to circle it.
He knows just how I love it—firm, circling pressure, right on the edge of too much.
The pleasure of being filled and the pleasure of being stroked at the same time is too much—too perfect. The deep, stretching thrusts and the clever way he teases my clit pushes me over the edge I’ve been teetering on for what feels like forever and suddenly, I can’t hold back anymore.
With a cry, I feel myself breaking into a million pieces as the pleasure washes over me. My inner walls convulse around Theron’s thick shaft with a series of frantic, milking spasms that pull a roar from his throat.
Pleasure whites out my vision like a lightning storm under my skin—intense and all-consuming. Oh Goddess, I don’t know if I can stand it—it feels so good and I never want it to end.
But it has to. Through the haze, I feel Theron tense—a tremor running through his entire body.
“Gonna pull out now, baby—can’t come inside you,” he groans, the words sounding agonized. “Fuck, I’m so fucking close!”
Even as my body is still rippling with aftershocks, he tries. He pulls back, sliding from my pussy. But he’s too close—the stimulation is too intense. As he withdraws, I feel a hot, sudden rush deep inside me—a single, thick spurt of his seed painting my inner walls.
The hazy pleasure dissipates at once as the world snaps back into sharp, terrible focus and I feel my whole body go tense.
Oh Goddess, what did he do? What did he do?
The same horror I feel is written all over Theron’s face.
He freezes, his body rigid with shock. His eyes, wide with disbelief and a fading echo of ecstasy, fly to my face.
I watch the realization dawn in his silver gaze.
At the same time, I feel a strange, warm tingling deep inside me and know it’s magic making changes to my body that I never asked for.
As I look up at him, my vision seems to shift, the colors of the world deepening—becoming richer, more vivid. I see the despair wash over his handsome features a second before I understand why.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “I’m so fucking sorry!”
I understand then that he has failed—he didn’t pull out in time.
In the polished surface of a brass mirror across the room, I catch a fleeting glimpse of my own reflection. My eyes, once the pale blue of a summer sky, are now the brilliant, unmistakable emerald green.
I am ruined.