Chapter 7 #2
Her hands wanted to tuck themselves between her legs as she leaned up again to take him in her mouth.
He sensed it. He said, "Give me your hands," and Mindy whimpered but held her hands above her head, letting him take them, hold them, leaving her own body burning with need as she ducked her head to him.
Knowing that now she couldn't control the depth to which he plunged his member. He was so thick, so hard, so long. He'd strangle her, suffocate her, and even then she just wanted him. He was truly beautiful. She'd known that even as she'd brought the lamp down on his head back at the condo.
Beautiful, and deadly. Like a snake, or a jaguar. Or –
God.
She touched her lips to the head of his cock, tasting the musty moisture there, licking out at him, scared, still, but wanting him so bad she could barely stand it.
He plunged forward then. Between her lips. His cock buried itself in her mouth and with her hands held tight in one of his, she was right — there was nothing she could do to control what he did.
He fucked her mouth, drawing his cock out and pushing it into her as deeply as he could before she gagged, before she fought, every time, her body on automatic as it tried to breathe and in between those parts of the movement, she sucked.
She licked. She swirled her tongue around the head, she lapped the underside, she let her teeth just barely graze the skin, she ran her tongue down the underside again and discovered that Vampyren, just like men, had clusters of nerves that had made Alek gasp and laugh low in his throat.
And thrust into her. Again and again and again. She turned her eyes up to his, begging silently not to come, to save that for her.
He ignored her. Long minutes of plunging into her and she began to feel she would come without anyone touching her, without anything but the sensation of Alek in her mouth, in her throat, his legs sometimes brushing her as he fucked her mouth.
Without warning, he came, tensing at the very last second. She had no way to pull free of him; he held her there with her hands above her head and emptied himself inside her.
She swallowed, found him sweet, the cinnamon she'd smelled earlier, and swallowed convulsively, mouthfuls of him. She wanted to cry. The need filling her was a pounding ache now, the sharpness of need.
He'd barely finished when he dragged her to her feet, effortlessly, and spun her around dragging her over to the sofa as she'd imagined.
He was already hard. She could feel his cock nudging her backside as she walked and fear filled her, that he might not take her the way she needed him and if he took her ass he'd break her in half.
She turned her head to speak but he grabbed her hair again, pulled her head back.
To her surprise, he said her name.
Rock hard, he pushed himself against her. The lust filled her again. She wriggled against him, coating his cock with her juices, crying in want and need. It felt like desire. It felt like everything she had ever wanted.
He pushed her head down and she felt one of his hands go away. When she looked up she realized she could see him reflected in the darkened windows of the suite. She watched as he took himself in hand, one strong, long fingered hand gripping his cock and guiding it to her.
Then he was pressing against her and she was saying yes, over and over, yes, hurry, please, her voice hoarse, her throat aching from what he'd already done to her and she was begging him for more.
He was huge. She didn't know if she could manage him.
And even as she thought that she felt his cock press against her entrance, felt the hardness sliding into her, hot and hard and so huge, so long, he moved slow, as if he was trying not to hurt her.
Looking up, she saw him again in the window, saw him watching what he was doing and she thought there was concern on his face.
Not concern. Care. He was moving slow. He was being careful not to hurt her.
Then he looked up and caught her eye, saw her watching him, and slammed her head forward into the back of the couch cushions.
At the same time, he started to fuck her, hard, hard strokes, pounding into her, picking up speed, making her grunt as her body smashed into the couch over and over.
She didn't have time to look up again, couldn't have fought off the hand that held her down.
She thought it must look amazing.
He was huge. He filled her completely and the friction and speed made her gasp.
When he loosened his grip for an instant she squirmed and drew herself up onto her toes, pressing down and forward so her clit came into contact with the sofa, grinding there on the wood that kept the couch rigid, covered by fabric but still hard enough for her to grind into.
When he stroked into her again, she screamed. He felt it coming and pressed her head hard into the sofa, the sound of her wail smothered there.
She fought him, trying to breathe, then realized she didn't care.
She pushed back against him, rocked her hips, met him thrust for thrust and felt him pause, as if surprised, then take up her rhythm rather than his own.
He rode her then, fucking her as hard as she could take and still she pounded back into him, begging for more.
Until he tensed inside her and she felt him swell, the same tell there'd been last time when he'd been in her mouth.
She had just enough time to wriggle her hips, pressing her clit hard into the couch, before he came, the two of them shuddering together into a climax that left Mindy shaking, sweating, dripping with his come.
He let her go and she dropped down onto the sofa, then suddenly terrified, climbed ungainly over it, curled on the cushions, buried her head in the pillows and started to sob.
She heard the door close behind him.