So ready.
Elder switched from mayhem to inferno, his hands locking in my hair, holding me prisoner as his hips drove faster, harder. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rode me as if the seconds counting down were seconds to his death.
He didn’t touch me. He didn’t kiss me. He just fucked me as I’d dared him.
Fucked me because he had to.
Fucked me because we had no choice.
And with each thrust, I climbed higher, teetering on the pedestal of an orgasm I furiously wanted.
My eyes popped from the pressure. My head ached from the need. My insides knotted and tangled, ready to explode in delirium.
Only, he reached the finish line before I did.
Throwing his head back, his spine hollowed as he thrust again, and a gruff animalistic groan wrenched from his lips. Warm wetness spilled deep inside me, making my body clench for things it knew it could never have.
Collapsing on top of me, he breathed hard in my ear.
He didn’t speak, and I didn’t mention how tingly and tight I was—on the knife edge of release. I wasn’t worried. I would come. He wasn’t finished.
I waited.
I waited some more as his heartbeat clamoured against mine.
I worried I might have it wrong.
That Elder had somehow figured out how to sleep with me once and only once. Perhaps that was why he went so furiously fast—to get it over with before he truly gave in.
Disappointment swelled in my chest; a touch of anger that I hadn’t come and probably wouldn’t if this truly was a fast coupling for him to get control again.
Only, his cock never softened inside me.
His body never moved to stop crushing mine.
His fingers never unlatched from my hair.
Slowly, his hips rocked again, gently at first with a hiss hinting at sensitivity. “Did you think I was finished with you, little mouse?” His growl seared my blood, my nipples, my clit.
I shivered as he drove upward, nudging against the innermost part of me, bruising me with pleasure.
“I’m not finished.” His fingers tightened in my hair. “I’m not done.” His teeth nipped at my jaw. “I’ll never be satisfied while fucking you.”
My sizzling orgasm sat up and paid attention. “Take me. As many times as you need.” My hands walked down his back, loving the rippling power of his muscles as he drove again and again. “Once isn’t enough.”
His eyes gleamed. “You want more of this?” He thrust up, grinding into me.
I gasped as starlight filled my vision. “Yes. God, yes.” I grabbed his ass, intending to pull him harder against me. To rub against him and find my release but in one jerk he withdrew, leaving me empty and clenching for more.
“El—” I pouted and clawed the air for him to return.
His fingers grabbed my waist, plucking me effortlessly from the cushions. In one deliciously primal move, he manhandled me to the arm of the couch and pushed me against it.
I breathed hard as his hands turned to claws and tore at the tiny hooks holding my bodice in place. “I need to see you, Pim. Need to taste you.”
He scratched and broke, shredding my dress as each hook and eye pinged free. The bodice slacked around my torso, quickly revealing I might’ve worn red knickers, garters, and stockings beneath the dress, but I wore nothing above it.
The corset was all I needed to push my breasts up.
And now that corset was ruined and hanging like torn wings at my sides.
“Christ, Pim.” His eyes locked onto my breasts, his tongue darting between his lips. His head ducked, and his mouth captured my left nipple and then my right.
I stood swaying with one hand clutching his hipbone with his trousers around his thighs and the other swooping up to tangle fingers in his hair.
“Oh, God.” I cried out as teeth tangled with tongue.
He kissed and suckled, drawing more tingling need through the invisible cord from core to nipple. My knees wobbled as he bit me harder then stood to his full height and kissed me just as feral.
With one hand cupping my throat, he spun me around and pushed me over the rolled top of the couch arm. Something sounding like an apology fell from his lips as his fingers pulsed around my neck. “Remember I tried to stop this and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Sweeping up my dress, he slotted his naked hips against my ass, his hand fumbling between heavy fabric and slippery bodies to once again find my entrance.
“I tried to fight you, Pimlico, but you’re just too fucking beautiful.”
The head of his cock found me.
I sucked in a breath, my belly squished and lungs struggling in the prone position he’d placed me in.
“I tell you I’m in love with you and instead of accepting my gift...you make me do this to you.”
I whimpered as he speared back inside me, forcing me to bend fully over the couch, thrusting so hard my toes came off the floor.
With one shoe on and the other foot balanced on tiptoe, I gave in entirely to his mania. His hands captured my breasts swinging unhindered and untrapped by my fallen bodice. His teeth nipped at the back of my neck, and my hair that had been painstakingly done by my dressers tumbled around us.
There was nothing alluring or beautiful about this moment.
He rutted into me like a monster.
And I bent over and took it.
God, I took it.
I craved it.
I loved how inhuman he was, how barbaric and consumed.
His thrusts were short and sharp, his grunts in time with every claiming of my body. We were untamed and messy, him driving into me and me arching back into him.
My orgasm built even stronger, a steady drumbeat in my clit and core and nipples.
I had to come.
Had to.
Had to.
Had to.
Letting the couch hold my weight, I buried my hand under my dress, fumbling and digging to find myself beneath so much frustrating fabric.
The moment my fingers found my clit, I sobbed with sex.
Sex was a noun, but here, now, it was a verb, an adjective, a living, breathing entity that filled me up and made me burst.
I didn’t think about how foreign it was to touch myself after never doing such a thing. I didn’t ponder on what Elder would think of me chasing my own pleasure.
All I focused on, all I could focus on, was the pummelling of his hard size in my pussy, the rapidly building pressure of muscles being hammered by his lust, and the spike of blissful insanity as I rubbed my clit with my fingertips.
Him and me together.
Chasing the ultimate paradise.
I wasn’t programmed for soft loving. Whether a by-product of my past or I’d always been built that way, I needed to feel the thrum and not just a tickle.
I punished myself as surely as he punished me and I loved it.