THE POISONER #2
My mouth remained closed, not out of a lack of want but a desire for the unruly.
His grip tightened, my mouth becoming loose when the skin of my cheeks pinched between his fingers and my teeth. As soon as my lips parted, he spit right into my mouth before his tongue joined in.
He grinned so wide it was hard to kiss him, our fangs clicking together.
“Tell me you missed me.”
“No,” I breathed, “I wouldn’t say that even if you begged me.”
“Is that why I can feel you pulsing around my cock? Did you miss the way I filled that dark, empty part of you?”
“Nothing could fill that vacancy; it can only be entertained for a short while.”
“Tell me a lie, then.”
“I hate you.”
He visibly shivered, the widest smirk on that devilish face. “That’s what I love to hear.”
I nearly bit my tongue when he shoved his cock fully in. He lifted my leg over his shoulder, his other hand placed firmly on my abdomen, absently rubbing his thumb across my scar.
He leaned farther forward, his cock angled enough to make it feel as if he would stretch me, his force enough to break me.
It was the mixture of pain and intense stimulation of the nerves that made each thrust more intense.
Some stimuli will bleed together and your brain can’t decide how to process the opposing sensations.
Which made them a delightful pairing, like chocolate and wine.
“Ah!” I couldn’t hold my voice any longer, I was coming close, and if I held out I’d be screaming by the time I finished.
He slapped his hand over my mouth while still holding the belt.
“God, the way you tighten when you scream is music to my ears,” he laughed, “but I’m not finished with you yet. Save your voice.”
He leaned forward, lifting my hips to get the perfect penetrable angle.
It was like he was trying to feel his cock through my stomach, the harder he pressed his palm down on it.
The pressure pushed all my organs together, jolting me inside so I couldn’t miss a single beat, a single punch, a single throb.
Finally, I was getting close, my body was tensing, especially my legs. At this angle, I was on my toes to maintain the elevation of my hips.
My head tilted back against the floor, my face turning from him as everything began to overwhelm me into orgasm.
But he didn’t stop there.
As he leaned forward, he bit me in the neck, the flash of pain eliciting a scream that melted into a whine. The venom didn’t work as well as it used to. The pain was short-lived, but never comfortable. Yet it was enough to make my stomach flutter.
The orgasm was so intense my spine curled in, and upon instinct, I bit into his shoulder, the blood washing over my tongue.
I expected my throat to close as it always had—but nothing happened.
I tasted dark notes, like smoke. There was not quite a sweetness, but the note of a strong floral, one that would be used in more ceremonial settings.
A deep savor of something that left you feeling uneasy, like you were tasting something forbidden, sacred.
It was enough to orgasm as I bit harder into his skin, swallowing only a single mouthful before I came.
My soul was peeling from my body, my head swimming in such delirium. It was tasting the milk and honey of paradise, the crisp gold of Eve’s apple, knowing desire for the first time with the serpent himself.
Silas slowed his pace, pinning me to the floor with his bite. Though he had no choice until I released him from my jaws as well.
I cried, but not in pain, not in grief. I shed my tears of relief, of joy, of complete and utter satisfaction as my mind and body wound down from the pleasure.
Then the sharp pain from between my legs.
“Ow!” I cried, finally unlatching my teeth from him. The back of my head tapped against the floor as I clenched my eyes shut, waiting for the pain of his spurs to subside. “God, it hurts. It hurts.”
“I know, I know,” he whispered. He rocked his hips gently. I could feel them pierce into me, burrowing deeper into the flesh. “Be still.”
His split tongue flicked out to catch the tear on my cheek before hoisting me up to straddle his lap.
He sat on his heels to hold me, and my head draped on his shoulder.
With a gentle touch, he tucked my arms to my chest, and his own wrapped around me.
Kisses of consolation pressed against my hair as his hands rubbed up and down my back.
Suddenly, I was claustrophobic. The pain wasn’t subsiding as fast as it previously did. I forget that with changed biology comes changed tolerances for different things. I suppose now I had antibodies for the venom like all the other Vipera, rendering it less effective.
My head rested on the shoulder I bit, the mark black from his blood wiped across it, dribbling down his arm.
I extended my tongue, swiping it across the marks.
Not even a flinch from him. Did he feel pain as well?
Perhaps he was used to wounds, and this was all just my mind getting used to my adapted body.
My breath was as light as the feathers stuffing the dozen pillows I lay upon. The silk was cool against my flustered skin, my hair tickled my arms as it curled and dried in its regular waving pattern.
The warm, wet tongue made such lewd sounds against my skin. Lips against my labia, the tongue smoothing between them, dipping in, out, then over my clit and more before the mouth closed over it to suck.
I flinched at the pressure, my hands tightening in the blond hair.
My eyes opened to see him staring up at me from between my legs, his arms hooked under my thighs.
“Do you want ice for it?” Silas asked, dragging his tongue one last time before it flicked back into his mouth.
I had forgotten my words and only grimaced.
He looked apologetic, at least. Silas crawled over me, kissing my cheek, then over the healing bite marks on my neck sheepishly.
The rasp at the door had him sliding off the bed and buttoning his trousers as he answered. More than just polite gratitude was exchanged by the looks of it and how quickly Silas was speaking. When he was finished, he pulled a small rolling serving cart inside.
Not long after, the smell of rich coffee cast a nostalgic cloud over my mood. He pulled it over and already began pouring a cup for me, placing it right on my chest.
“Thank you.” I couldn’t even sit up to drink it, I just leaned up so I didn’t have to move the cup far from its little saucer.
“There shouldn’t be any more blood.” He sat on the edge of the bed and faced me. “Are you sure the pain isn’t just cramping of the muscles? I don’t remember it hurting you any other time.”
“I think my tolerance for any of your venom is much higher now,” I sighed. “I’m just not used to it. Not in this body, at least.”
“Plenty of time to get used to it.” He sipped his coffee, but he still had a poorly hidden smirk.