Chapter 36 #2
“Fuck you. Show me everything,” I rasped as I captured his lips.
His clove wine-soaked mouth devoured mine, meeting with the passion that I poured into him.
I walked him back to the bed, unwilling to break the kiss.
My tongue darted around his, and his sharp teeth nicked my tongue.
The tang of iron joined the sensation. He growled low and ground himself against me as he climbed on top of me on the bed.
I traced down the length of the rock hard ridge bulging against the leather, and he gasped into my mouth.
He pulled back and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
The smoothness of him was an illusion, but my God he was gorgeous.
My dress straps were off, and the bodice was unlaced and to my waist before I could think about it.
His almond eyes glowed as he studied my throat, breasts, and the silver scar on my side from the bike accident when I was ten.
Neither of us moved. My heart hammered as I stilled.
Like being caught in the gaze of a predator and freezing before they made their first move. The game-on moment.
“Beautiful,” he trailed a finger over a breast, grazing a nipple. My breath caught.
He moved like lightning hitting water, my lips opening as his mouth found mine, and his tongue plunged into me.
His hands massaged, pinched, and stroked as our tongues wove tapestries.
I couldn’t get close enough to his softness, absorbing the heat radiating from him, as close to the fire as I could get.
He broke away, sniffing me in the deep places, neck, and armpits. “I love the way you smell.” The sound of his huffing pleasure had already liquefied me. Burying his face in the curve of my neck, he snuffled his way down my body. Goosebumps rippled down my arms as my hair stood to his attention.
Then his tongue came out.
I froze with the first long languid lick of chamois smoothness that left a wet trail splitting me from navel to thigh.
He slid his hands over my hips and then down my thighs, turning me into writhing mush.
I gasped when he dipped his head and began to lap my inner thighs, languidly licking and sniffing me.
Then he buried his face between my legs.
I think I screamed. Who remembers these things? Between the licking, the hands moving, and the sniffing, I was on a ride that stripped me to my core. The orgasm was world-splitting, like biting into a chocolate cherry. An explosive crack of the shell and then the sweetness oozing out.
Left boneless, he slid over me, kissing me again, my salty sweetness mingling with the musky taste of him. I pushed him sideways and rolled on top of him. He still had his pants zipped. That needed to change.
When I grabbed his waistband, he stilled. His yellow eyes glowed at me as I fumbled with the button, releasing the zipper like a sacred ritual unveiling, allowing time for every tooth of metal to unlatch until his pants gaped. When I moved to slide my fingers inside his pants, he grabbed my wrist.
“No, let me. I need to show you myself.” With gentle hands, he rolled over me again, but he caught my other wrist in his massive one and kept both wrists pinned above my head with one hand while he ran the other over my bare skin, making trails if he was preparing me for something.
When he got to my navel, I squirmed, my eyes glued to what he was doing with his pants.
“Be still for me?” he asked, letting go of my wrists.
He cupped a breast and dipped to suckle it.
Then dragging the nipple between his teeth, he began to lick my breasts with his long pink tongue, like they were the best flavor of ice pop.
The sensation of sand and velvet turned me into a squirming snake, but the saliva effect trapped me in a frozen puddle of pleasure.
The bastard could read my mind, but I didn’t care. It only made it much hotter.
He stood up, his yellow eyes burning with a passion that I’d only dreamt about and plunged his hand into his open fly.
From his pants, he pulled out the largest erection I’d ever seen. How it even fit in his pants was a marvel to consider. How could I not have noticed? He stood there waiting for me to do something while my stomach fluttered with consideration, and my limbs worked again.
I sat up and licked the tip of it while I held his eyes. He groaned and held his position.
Patient. Considerate. Desiring.
I circled his cock with my fingers and his breath caught.
“I want this. I want this in me. I want you in me. Now.” I grabbed his upper arms and pulled him back to the bed.
Wald dropped on top of me, kissing me with a breath-stealing passion.
He trailed kisses down my neck while his hands roved.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, the length of him hard against my folds.
I wanted this man more than anyone I’d ever been with.
I wiggled my hips to capture his cock. He pulled back and flipped me over.
“No,” I squealed, twisting back around. “No. I want to see your eyes.”
His gold gaze shimmered as he smoothed his hands down my sides, sending sparks across my skin as he tugged my hips and slid his hands under my ass. He could easily put me into whatever position he wanted, but he was giving me the power.
“It will be more comfortable if you allow it the other way,” he said, nudging my knees up. He settled my hand around his silky cock. “You’ll need to guide me and control the speed. I don’t want to hurt you, Tails.”
I gasped as it twitched. The touch of him was feeling satin for the first time. His swelled growing in size.
We both looked at it. He grasped the base. “I’ll control my part. But my cock is less cloaked than the rest of me, which is why it feels different.”
I reached between my legs and centered the tip of his cock. I was incredibly wet already, but he leaned forward and grazed a nipple with his tongue as he surged into me. I screamed but also pressed my pelvis forward, skewering myself and stretching me to the max.
He stilled as I wriggled, wanting him deeper until I couldn’t take more, but there were still inches of him I couldn’t accommodate.
When he began to pull back, I cried out, “Stop.” The pain-pleasure threshold maxed, and I understood what he meant.
I needed to be wide open, but if he entered me from behind, he’d have to be completely in control.
I’d have to trust him.
I did trust him .
Initially, I’d been forced into it, but from that first ride in the car trunk he’d only built trust between us.
“We’ll do it your way.”
His yellow eyes intensified on my face while his hands traced fire over my skin. His kisses were equally deep and insistent but also tender as he pulled out. I wanted to cry. I liked the animal better.
I circled my arms around his neck, seizing my passion for him, my teeth clamping on to his lip before letting go and nipping at his neck.
“I thought I was clear you shouldn’t bite me, Tails.” His voice went flat with feigned seriousness.
“I’m just leaving my mark.” I nibbled his shoulder. He growled with a deep throatiness. Then, in one fluid move, he flipped me over and tugged back my thighs, so he was behind me.
He traced my spine. “No need to leave a mark. I’m already yours.” His hands slipped around my ribs to cradle my breasts. I ground my ass against him as he began to stroke and pluck my nipples before he pulled back. His hands brushed down my ass to my thighs, and he spread me wide.
I stilled, expecting his dick to split me in half, shuddering when the wet lapping began. His tongue probed and licked with its outrageously rough length. I squirmed under a final languid lick, and then the saliva froze me in a partially numb-with-pleasure state. I’d yell at him later.
“You taste like ambrosia. I cannot get enough of you.” His voice was raspy like he was drunk.
I wondered what ambrosia tasted like, then moaned as his fingers entered me. He thrust them back and forth and side to side while stimulating my clit as I writhed, unable to physically move.
Torture of a totally pleasurable kind of presses, rubs, and thrusts. First two fingers, then three, and then his impossibly long tongue curling up my chest to lap at my nipples.
Then I swear he had four fingers in me, maybe eight. The numbness of not quite knowing was beginning. His hand thrust into me. The second orgasm exploded in a shower of sparks, turning me to custard.
When he rolled me over again, my body had relaxed, and I had control. He caged me, but I pushed him back, rose and pressed him down, then climbed on top of him.
I drew wavy lines down his chest, staking my claim, and then drove my tongue into his lush mouth, my insides aching with a frozen fire that only he could put out.
I reached for his cock and guided it to my slit, rubbing the tip back and forth along my opening.
His breath caught. “Are you sure?”
“Never been so sure.” It came out as a breathy invitation.
He groaned, and his hips flexed upward slightly as I drove my weight down with a scream that sliced me in two.
He reached up for my shoulders, and then he flipped us as if I were weightless, so I was on my back while he was still inside me.
He was moving slowly, but I was stretched out, and we both knew it. It would have to be from behind.
With his yellow eyes locked on mine, he pulled out.
The loss of him was like a sword leaving a stomach.
I gushed and ached as I turned and kneeled with my ass toward him.
The anticipation taut as a silk thread as he stroked my hips.
Then he palmed my clit, dipping his head to lick again, the numbing fire spreading through me.
In one smooth motion, he entered me from behind.
The full unfettered length of him slamming against my cervix earthquaked through me, annihilating all conscious thought.
Stilling, he massaged my breasts and my clit until the freezing tapered.
I groaned, the burn of the stretch both pleasure and frustration.
I pressed my butt back against his cock, wanting all of him, but I was spread wider than anything I’d ever experienced.
The stretch, an itch I couldn’t scratch, a glass of water full to the brim and ready to spill.
He breathed out. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”
Then he began to move.
I screamed my answer of “Yes!” And “NO” as he pulled out and, “YES. I want you” when he thrust back into me.
Each time a little farther out and a little farther in.
Every stroke a blend of pain and pleasure you can’t separate.
He’d settled me where he could control the thrust and the distance.
I screamed when he drove into me a touch too hard, and he pulled out immediately.
I shouted, “No, don’t stop.” And he pushed back in starting slow and then finding a rhythm as he rubbed at me in offbeats with the thrusts.
I came and then came again—I think. I lost track. He was still hard and thrusting while I was numb in places, so the discomfort wasn’t ruining it. He finally pulled out and collapsed beside me, tugging me on top of him. He trailed gentle kisses down my flushed throat, and I arched against him.
“How are you doing? Did you cum?” I whispered.
“I can’t like this.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I cannot spray seed in this form.”
“Then show me your true form, and we can continue,” I said, my swollen sex throbbing. He moved a hand between my legs. “You are hurting. Let me fix that first. Besides, I need more of that honeyed wine of yours,” he said, sitting up and spreading my legs as he repositioned.
I lay on my back, and he breathed a huff of warm air as he began to lick. His tongue entered me, and then he lapped at my opening over and over again, breathing heavily between each breath. If I could get feeling back down there I could cum again—and was I ever feeling it.
“Now you. You promised,” I said, pushing his shoulders back.
He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and his eyes locked on my face. “You don’t have to see this, you know.”
“I know,” I said as the hair began to grow.