Stranger in the Dark: An Erotic Retelling of Cupid and Psyche by Gwendolyn Wilde Page B

the jostling of his steps and the effortless strength of his arms. Then his arms slipped away and the satin covers were under my back. I whimpered, deprived of his touch, and the darkness loomed cold and empty again. But then he lowered himself over me, and the whole weight of him pressed me down against the slippery bedcovers.
    I pulled my arm free and tried to wrap my arm around his back again, but he caught my wrist and held it down. I relaxed, letting him position me as he would. His lips crushed along the curve of my collarbone, and then slipped lower. I arched my back, offering my breasts to his ravenous lips. His mouth grasped my nipple, and I moaned, surprised by the depth of the sensation. His tongue fluttered wet against my budding nipple, and I couldn’t help but whine my pleasure.
    He thrust his knee between my thighs, forcing them apart. I jumped at the warm flat touch of his palm, cupping my mound. He probed me gently, his fingers sinking between my folds and spreading my slippery nectar.
    I grasped at the smooth sheets, fisting my hands in the covers but keeping my arms down obediently. His hands fondled me with a knowing touch, growing almost rough as he pinched and rolled my clit between his fingers, but eliciting only pleasure. I whimpered when his hand drew away. Then he nestled between my thighs, his legs pushing my thighs wider. He thrust his hips into me, and I felt the warm staff of his manhood again, sliding along my thigh. My cunt throbbed with a deep ache, lusting after that firm length.
    “Please,” I said, wriggling my hips to rub myself against his shaft.
    “Gladly,” he whispered, and plunged his cock into me. I gasped, feeling a sharp pang of pain as he broke in for the first time. But the next penetration was better, and after a few strokes I had forgotten that there was any pain at all. I slid my ankles up and hooked them around his calves, feeling his muscles flex as he drove into me. I wanted to wriggle, but the intensity of each hard thrust, the immensity of his cock stretching the walls of my cunt, kept me still. I tipped my head back into the pillow, my mouth agape, gasping for breath under the onslaught of pleasure. But his hand crept under my head, and he pulled me into him, pressing his lips to my mouth.
    The strange, violent pleasure built and built, and soon it collapsed in a storm of brilliant, seizing euphoria. I made undignified noises, wailing into his rough kisses. But he didn’t stop his relentless rhythm, and the waves of pleasure subsided only to rise again in another overwhelming tide. Each deep jab of his cock was more violent than the last. I bucked my hips, lost in the mindless surges of pleasure. The climax ebbed away eventually, and I tightened the muscles in my cunt, eager for it to begin again, eager for another consuming tide of euphoria.
    Before I reached another episode of bliss, I felt my master clasp me in a hard embrace. His thrusts sped, and his breaths seethed into my neck. The bed shook under his rough pounding. I panted, feeling the heat of his excitement, realizing he was experiencing the same delight that I already had. I moaned, feeling a fresh surge of lust at the thought of his hard, masculine body finding release in me.
    He stiffened, clamping his teeth around my shoulder. He drove himself deep, shuddering and grunting harshly. I gasped, clenching my pussy around his cock. I felt a warm wetness flooding my cunt. He withdrew. I hissed as his cock slipped out of my cunt, leaving me empty and wanting. He pulled me over, wrapping me with his limbs. He caught me tight in his arms, confining me so that I couldn’t reach around and explore his body with my hands.   
    His chest rose and fell against my back. I swallowed, my skin buzzing with excitement. I was intensely curious, and my fear was long gone. Did he think I would care so much what he looked like? He couldn’t be some inhuman abomination.
    “I don’t care,” I whispered, “what you look