Chapter 2 #3
He moved like a storm breaking. One moment he stood against the wall with pain in his eyes, and the next the mats shook beneath my feet as his lion paws pounded across the floor.
His wings snapped shut behind him, propelling him forward in a rush of wind and heat that knocked the breath from my chest. I had a fraction of a second to gasp before his hands seized my waist, lifting me clear off the ground, spinning me, and setting me down hard on my hands and knees on the thick pelts.
The fur cushioned my palms. My hair fell forward, creating a curtain around my face, and I sucked in a ragged breath of air thick with his musk.
I felt him behind me, looming, his shadow blocking the firelight.
I twisted my neck to look back and saw him kneeling between my spread knees, his massive frame rising above me like a cliff face.
His shorts were gone, shoved down and kicked away, and what jutted from the golden fur between his thighs made my mouth go dry.
He was enormous. Thick and dark and heavy, curving up toward his stomach with a weight that bobbed slightly with his breathing.
The cock was sheathed in skin darker than the fur surrounding it, flushed and veined, and the head flared wide and blunt.
My inner muscles clenched at the sight, a fresh gush of wetness slicking my thighs.
He was bigger than any man I had ever taken, bigger than anything I had imagined fitting inside me, and the thought of him stretching me open sent a spike of terror and craving through my core.
Plumak leaned forward, his wings spreading wide above us both, and the heat of his chest radiated against my bare back.
One massive hand slid beneath my stomach, supporting my weight, while the other reached between my legs.
His thick fingers found my clit with unerring accuracy, the pad of one digit pressing firm circles against the swollen bud.
I cried out. My spine arched, my head snapping back as sensation ripped through me.
He worked me with a precision that spoke of either instinct or intense study, his finger slicking through my folds, gathering my wetness, and rubbing relentless circles over the sensitive nerves.
His other hand moved up to cup my breast, the rough palm kneading the soft weight, his thumb and forefinger rolling my nipple until I sobbed.
"Oh god," I gasped, my arms trembling as they held my weight. "Oh god, don't stop."
He held his silence. His breathing came hard and fast above me, a rasping sound intercut with the low clicking purr that rattled from his chest. His fingers moved faster, pressing harder, and I felt the orgasm building like a wave I couldn't outrun.
My hips bucked against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of everything he was giving me.
The fur beneath my knees grew damp with my sweat and arousal, and my fingers clawed into the pelts, anchoring myself against the pleasure that threatened to tear me apart.
When I came it was violent. My back arched hard, my head thrown back, a scream ripping from my throat that echoed off the woven walls.
My inner muscles spasmed, clenching around nothing, my clit pulsing against his circling finger as wave after wave of release crashed through my body.
He held me through it, his hand between my legs pinning me in place, his other hand squeezing my breast, his wings curved around us like a shelter against the world.
Before the last tremor faded, he positioned himself at my entrance.
I felt the broad head press against my folds, hot and heavy and impossibly large.
My body was still spasming from the orgasm, my muscles loose and yielding, but when he began to push forward I felt the stretch.
It burned. It burned so good I saw stars.
My mouth opened on a silent gasp as he pressed deeper, inch by thick inch, filling me with a pressure that bordered on pain and crossed straight into ecstasy.
He was huge inside me. I felt every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his heartbeat transmitted through the rigid shaft that invaded my body.
My inner walls stretched to accommodate him, clamping down in a futile attempt to resist the invasion, only to surrender and flutter around his girth.
He bottomed out with a groan that vibrated through my spine, his hips flush against my ass, his heavy sac resting against my swollen clit.
"Move," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please, move."
He withdrew slowly, the drag of his flesh against mine sending sparks up my spine, then slammed back in with a force that drove my knees forward on the mats.
I cried out, my fingers scrabbling for purchase in the fur, and he set a rhythm that rocked my whole world.
Each thrust drove the air from my lungs, each withdrawal left me empty and aching until he filled me again.
The sound of our bodies meeting filled the nest, wet and sharp and obscene, mixed with my gasping moans and his low grunts.
His wings swept forward, enclosing us completely in a dome of feathers.
The world narrowed to the heat of his chest against my back, the grip of his taloned hands on my hips, the massive cock splitting me open again and again.
I lost track of where I ended and he began.
My mind emptied of everything except the sensation of being taken, being claimed, being fucked so thoroughly I couldn't remember my own name.
I pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, my ass slapping against his fur covered hips.
The angle shifted, and suddenly he was hitting a spot inside me that made my vision go white.
I shrieked, my inner muscles clamping down on him in rhythmic spasms that seemed to drive him wild.
His grip tightened, his talons curving around my hip bones without breaking skin, and he pounded into me harder, faster, the nest swaying gently with the force of his movements.
"Yes," I sobbed, tears streaming down my face, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. "Yes, yes, don't stop, please don't stop."
He was everywhere. His wings blocked out the firelight, his fur rubbed against my back, his cock stretched me so full I felt I might split in two, and I loved it.
I loved every brutal thrust, every gasping breath, every moment of being completely at his mercy.
I was drowning in sensation, my body nothing but a vessel for the pleasure he poured into me, and I never wanted it to end.
When he reached beneath me again, his thick finger finding my clit as he drove into me, I shattered.
The orgasm ripped through me like a wildfire, consuming every nerve, every thought, every shred of resistance I had ever held against him.
I screamed his name, or maybe just screamed, my body locking up as wave after wave of release tore through my core.
My inner muscles milked him in rhythmic clenches, and I felt him swell inside me, felt the hot pulse of his own release flooding me as he roared above me, his wings snapping wide, his body arching over mine in a pose of pure predatory triumph.