Chapter Thirteen
Lucien had told her he’d been burning alive with need for her, and he’d meant every word he said. As he spread her pale thighs and positioned himself to take her, he indeed felt as if a fire were burning beneath his skin, racing in his blood, hollowing out his insides until there was nothing left in him but pure, blazing, cutting desire. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching as he inserted the tip of his cock into the center of her glistening, pink slit, willing her to bloom for him . . . to accept his monstrous need.
They both gasped at the sensation of him stretching her delicate tissues and embedding his cockhead in her clamping, sultry embrace. He lowered his other arm, holding himself off her, and focused on her rapt face as he pushed his cock into her body. He’d been obsessed by the idea of her pussy for the last several days, haunted by the idea of being submersed in her again. It was a sweeter agony than he either recalled or imagined.
A moment later, he bumped his testicles against her damp tissues and caught her shaky cry with his lips. He immediately began to fuck her with short strokes, examining the way her face tightened every time he jabbed at her clit on his forceful downstroke. He groaned in ecstasy. She was too small and feminine for his big, masculine body. Yet she took him without complaint. In fact, if her sublime, rapturous expression was any indication, she liked the way he filled her. The sounds of the waves hitting the breakwater and the distant hum of the city were drowned out by the throb of his heartbeat in his ears. He matched his rhythm to it, so that the pounding in his ears fell into tempo with the slap of his pelvis and balls against Elise’s skin. He withdrew his cock farther and slammed into her harder, grimacing in pleasure. She whimpered and he felt her muscular walls convulse around him. He drove deeper, harder, faster, until a cry popped out of her throat and her nipple chain jumped with each intense thrust.
“Your pussy is perfect,” he grated out, rearing over and pounding his cock high inside her. “Tell me it’s mine. Say it.”
“My pussy is yours,” she said shakily.
Her eyes sprang wide and she keened when he rocketed into her.
“That’s right. Mine,” he uttered savagely, feeling the unbearable, untenable fire rising in him. Fucking Elise truly was like throwing himself wholesale in the flames. He rolled back her hips and came up on his knees. She cried out when he pressed her knees to within inches of her chest and plowed into her. His growl of primal satisfaction twined with her scream. He rode her like that for blissful moments, the flex of her hips providing the perfect counter-rhythm to his demanding strokes, the friction divine . . . too optimal for him to exist in this taut ecstasy for long.
When he felt his balls tingle with impending climax, he forced himself to still high inside her squeezing, hot channel. He gritted his teeth at the sensation of the back of her womb pressing against his cockhead. She squealed. He leaned down and inserted a nipple between his lips. They were swollen from the clamping loops, blood-flushed and red. He lashed at the tender flesh with his tongue, wincing at the delicious sensation of her shuddering around his cock as she came. When he bit tenderly at the sensitive morsel, adding the abrasion of his teeth to the clamp, she jerked her bound arms from over her head and scraped his scalp with her fingernails hard enough to draw blood.
Climax seized him at the sensation. He erupted while pressed deep inside her, pleasure blasting through him like a firebomb. When it relented slightly, he fucked her shuddering pussy with short, hard strokes, still coming, still burning alive, wondering how she could satisfy him so completely, and yet he already wanted more.
He slowed, gasping for air, still planted deep inside her. She quieted by degrees, until her fingers in his hair caressed instead of
Lucien had told her he’d been burning alive with need for her, and he’d meant every word he said. As he spread her pale thighs and positioned himself to take her, he indeed felt as if a fire were burning beneath his skin, racing in his blood, hollowing out his insides until there was nothing left in him but pure, blazing, cutting desire. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching as he inserted the tip of his cock into the center of her glistening, pink slit, willing her to bloom for him . . . to accept his monstrous need.
They both gasped at the sensation of him stretching her delicate tissues and embedding his cockhead in her clamping, sultry embrace. He lowered his other arm, holding himself off her, and focused on her rapt face as he pushed his cock into her body. He’d been obsessed by the idea of her pussy for the last several days, haunted by the idea of being submersed in her again. It was a sweeter agony than he either recalled or imagined.
A moment later, he bumped his testicles against her damp tissues and caught her shaky cry with his lips. He immediately began to fuck her with short strokes, examining the way her face tightened every time he jabbed at her clit on his forceful downstroke. He groaned in ecstasy. She was too small and feminine for his big, masculine body. Yet she took him without complaint. In fact, if her sublime, rapturous expression was any indication, she liked the way he filled her. The sounds of the waves hitting the breakwater and the distant hum of the city were drowned out by the throb of his heartbeat in his ears. He matched his rhythm to it, so that the pounding in his ears fell into tempo with the slap of his pelvis and balls against Elise’s skin. He withdrew his cock farther and slammed into her harder, grimacing in pleasure. She whimpered and he felt her muscular walls convulse around him. He drove deeper, harder, faster, until a cry popped out of her throat and her nipple chain jumped with each intense thrust.
“Your pussy is perfect,” he grated out, rearing over and pounding his cock high inside her. “Tell me it’s mine. Say it.”
“My pussy is yours,” she said shakily.
Her eyes sprang wide and she keened when he rocketed into her.
“That’s right. Mine,” he uttered savagely, feeling the unbearable, untenable fire rising in him. Fucking Elise truly was like throwing himself wholesale in the flames. He rolled back her hips and came up on his knees. She cried out when he pressed her knees to within inches of her chest and plowed into her. His growl of primal satisfaction twined with her scream. He rode her like that for blissful moments, the flex of her hips providing the perfect counter-rhythm to his demanding strokes, the friction divine . . . too optimal for him to exist in this taut ecstasy for long.
When he felt his balls tingle with impending climax, he forced himself to still high inside her squeezing, hot channel. He gritted his teeth at the sensation of the back of her womb pressing against his cockhead. She squealed. He leaned down and inserted a nipple between his lips. They were swollen from the clamping loops, blood-flushed and red. He lashed at the tender flesh with his tongue, wincing at the delicious sensation of her shuddering around his cock as she came. When he bit tenderly at the sensitive morsel, adding the abrasion of his teeth to the clamp, she jerked her bound arms from over her head and scraped his scalp with her fingernails hard enough to draw blood.
Climax seized him at the sensation. He erupted while pressed deep inside her, pleasure blasting through him like a firebomb. When it relented slightly, he fucked her shuddering pussy with short, hard strokes, still coming, still burning alive, wondering how she could satisfy him so completely, and yet he already wanted more.
He slowed, gasping for air, still planted deep inside her. She quieted by degrees, until her fingers in his hair caressed instead of
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