Chapter Seventeen #2
I cross my ankles instinctively, tightening around him. Desperate for more contact with the heat pulsing between my legs.
His breath hitches, and a low, rumbling growl rolls through him, vibrating into my back, my spine, my core.
I barely register that I’m whimpering until I feel his fingers drag back down my stomach while his other hand continues to worship my breasts.
The heat of his skin burns, and when he spreads me open again, the sudden contrast of hot water and fevered flesh against my sex is devastating.
Oh, fuck, oh, fuck—
I jerk in his arms, but he’s already holding me open, holding me still, his massive fingers bracketing my aching clit, trapping me against the pulsing current while I grind my entrance down against his shaft.
The heat builds too fast, too sharp, like every nerve in my body is learning his touch too quickly.
“Please,” I whisper, begging before I even know what for.
His dark, low chuckle echoes in the cavern. “You beg so sweetly, Winter Star.”
His cock slides wetly between my thighs, thick and smooth, teasing against my opening without entering. But oh, how I want him to. I grind down, shameless, seeking more—but he doesn’t let me have it.
Instead, his fingers replace the current, rubbing slow, lazy circles over my clit, making my body convulse in desperate, helpless shudders.
Every time he rolls his hips, I feel another pulse of liquid heat against my thighs.
My arousal—hot, slick, dripping between my legs, makes it even easier for him to glide against me.
“You are divine. Blooming for me like the rarest flower. I cannot wait to taste your sweet nectar,” he rasps over my neck.
I moan at the thought of him feasting on me.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Let me feel how much your body weeps for me.”
The glow of the water flickers, pulling my gaze down to see it reflecting off where our bodies slide, meet, and retreat in a dance as old as time, and I can’t stop watching.
Once I see what his fully erect cock looks like, I can’t help but touch it, desperate to heft its weight in my hand, explore the texture of something so fantastic and unknown.
I reach down past his hand working magic over my clit and wrap my hand around the head. In place of a flared crown is a more tapered head that quickly flares into a wide, thick shaft that I can’t get my fingers fully around.
Exploring the new shape and texture that I’m starving for more of has him growling until it feels like a vibrating purr is emanating behind my back.
He pulses against my palm, and I stroke slowly, worshipfully, exploring every vein, every ridge that I can reach.
Precum coats my fingertips like liquid fire.
I pick up my movements, stroking the head and exploring his slit with my fingertips, marveling at its size, swirling the slick fluid, more viscous than the surrounding water, around the tip.
His movements pick up to match his heavy breathing until he wraps one great arm around me, stilling my movements, leaving me no choice but to submit to him as it explores my flesh and ride the hard cock pistoning between my thighs.
A litany of whimpers, moans, and half-spoken curses fall from my lips. I should be humiliated by how much I’m trembling; how easy he makes me come undone. How I've given over complete control of my body in total trusting submission to a mythical creature made flesh.
But I’m too far gone to care.
His cock glides against my entrance, bumping my clit with every pass. Each time, I wonder—will this be it? The suspense is killing me. My pussy clenches, desperate for something—for him.
He blocks the current with his large hand and says, “Your pleasure belongs to me and me alone. The mountain will not take you from me.”
He slowly works a large finger into me and presses a spot deep inside as stars explode behind my eyes.
My climax slams into me at finally behind filled—fast, violent, rolling through my body like that damn avalanche.
Just like it, he consumes me completely, robbing the air from my lungs, claiming me mercilessly.
I scream, writhing in his hold, the pleasure too much, too much, too much—clenching around his finger, grinding into his palm.
“Please,” I cry, hardly able to force a coherent word past my lips. My orgasm continues to roll through me in waves. I want him to stop but damn do I also need more.
He releases my sex and yanks my tank top to expose my breasts to his questing hands.
He massages them, easily supporting my weight in the water so I can grind against him.
I feel every ridge, every contour, and every pulsing, ropelike vein along the iron shaft trapped between my thighs.
My soaked tanktop clings to my curves, nipples taut against his palm. I am lust incarnate.
Ben always made me feel like I was too much. Too soft. Too needy. But this creature—he holds me like I’m perfect. Like I was made to be worshipped.
He whips me around to face him with a dark, satisfied smile as he wraps my legs around his waist. Notching his cock at my entrance, he must have noticed the panic in my eyes bleeding through the fading aftershocks of the orgasm that continue to roll through me.
His fingers twist into my hair, tilting my head back until I meet his gaze to find those silver storms swirling with hunger.
“You will take me, Dahlia. But not tonight. Tonight, you will only take my seed,” he grinds out between clenched teeth, as if the restraint he is exercising is riding a razor thin edge of control. He pauses, the moment heavy with dark promise. He’s holding back. And I think it’s killing him.
I can’t help but look back down, fascinated with the view of his enormous cock poised to spear me.
His fingers curl around my jaw, tilting my face back toward his. “But soon,” his voice drops lower, rougher, “you’ll take all of me.” His voice is a promise. A warning. His thumb sweeps out to brush over my swollen lips. “Very, very soon.”
He takes full advantage of my mouth—fallen open in shock—claiming it in a hot, rough, all consuming kiss. His tongue plunges into my mouth, stroking mine, chasing every retreat, swallowing every sound I make. The sharp edge of his teeth just grazes my lips and has me sucking in a breath.
It turns to a breathy moan as I feel his cock pulse at my entrance, desperate to penetrate me. I can’t stop myself from grinding down against it despite my fear. The exquisite, burning stretch from just the tip has me gasping into his open mouth.
He groans into the kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the other running down my back, over my ass, and moving lower until he’s pressing a slick finger against my tightest opening. The water makes everything so damn slippery, and it slides in the smallest fraction on a moan.
The fear of his size drifts away in the swirling water as unfulfilled desires, locked away for years, come flooding to the surface, and I push myself further down over both his erection and finger, wanting to be filled by him everywhere.
Instead of thrusting up into me though, he continues to ease his thick finger into my ass while the other hand slides between us to pump his shaft.
Desire unfurls, dark and wild. I writhe against him, undone, desperately trying to get more of his monster cock inside of me, but even with my arousal and this mineral water, it just won’t fit.