by Kay Maree
She was beautiful, not as stunning as Seraphina but beautiful nonetheless. Her name was, Abby. Dark hair, glittering blue eyes, she smelled like roses and sunshine until she took her very last breath. I was sad for a moment as I stared at her prone form, lying lifeless on the floor of my fathers hunting cabin but that sadness was fleeting. She wasn’t my end game, after all. Instead, she was merely a vessel for me to hone my craft.
The girls that came after her were more of the same; beautiful but unfulfilling. They didn’t curb my baser urges the way I had hoped. They barely took the edge off the storm brewing inside me. A storm that I knew would continue to grow to epic proportions if I didn’t find what I was looking for soon.
It’s apropos, isn’t it? The one girl who has the potential to be my game changer is currently with a man whose last name is Storm. His name alone leaves a foul taste in my mouth, but it’s the thought of him touching my prize that turns my stomach the most. Patron Saint of Station forty-four, community hero, charity do-gooder, and general pain in my ass. Ryker Storm will do anything in his power to sway public opinion, painting himself in a way that makes him appear larger than life.
Pushing all thoughts of him aside because all that achieves is to fill me with murderous intent, I refocus my time and energy on my girl. His time will come and when it does, I plan on drawing out his suffering, inflicting maximum pain until he succumbs like all the rest. Something to look forward to if you ask me.
With my hand wrapped firmly around the handle, I pull the doors to my closet open and stare in awe at the shrine I have created in her honor, Every day, no matter what I’m doing, I make sure to put aside plenty of time to savor the many pictures I have taken of her that line every surface of my walk-in robe. Like any artist, I have a personal favourite. It can change depending on my mood, but today’s is a photo of her lounging beside her father’s pool. The sun shimmers on the beads of water pooled on her skin, all but begging me to lick up each and every drop with my tongue. Her ample breasts are barely covered by a few strategically placed scraps of fabric - something that will have to be rectified when she becomes mine; no man should see her in this state of undress, I won’t have it. Seraphina’s hair is slicked back, a few shades darker because it’s wet but still just as lovely. I imagine what her long tan legs will taste like, exposed to the sun covered in what appears to be oil of some kind. And her scent. Will she smell as delectable as she looks, or will I be disappointed and find her lacking like all the others? I highly doubt it, not when the promise of her already far surpassed my expectations.
Studying the picture again with a more creative eye this time, my mind conjures a parallel scenario in which Seraphina was posing for me, teasing me with her curves, begging me to come to her and claim her. I envisioned myself shaking my head, denying her if only to heighten her anticipation but eventually giving in because I could no more deny her than myself. I saw myself staying rooted in place, capturing every angle and dip of her beautiful form as the camera shutter opened and closed. My mind reels as lucid thoughts about the way I will show her what she means to me. I will have her body will begging for my touch. And only my touch.
However, until we move to the next step of our relationship, the one I fully intend to elevate us to, as soon as possible, I need to be assured of her safety. Her comfort and well-being while important is a secondary concern at the moment. Making sure she is unharmed is my only goal, so for now, my primary objective is to get rid of the competition, to remove the distraction threatening to destroy my well-laid plans. An annoying distraction that bears the name, Ryker Storm.
If everything goes off without a hitch, Ryker Storm will rue the day he was born, especially if he doesn’t wise up soon and leave my angel alone. Failure is not an option here; I will not walk away willingly or without a fight which is why it has come time to escalate hostilities, to take action at least where he’s concerned.
"He will not take you away from me. I won't allow it. You are worth a thousand of him my sweet,” I whisper tracing my fingers over the photo of her. “I have laid the groundwork my love, but it’s what comes next that will pave the way for us to be together and I can’t fucking wait. Soon, Seraphina. Soon you’ll be mine.”
CHAPTER TEN
Coming Undone ~ Korn
SERAPHINA
The ride to Ryker’s house is silent. Aside from the noise of his truck crunching over gravel as he guides the beast up his driveway, he hasn’t spoken a word since we left the picnic. I understand that he’s angry, furious even, but I honestly believed my offer to take over for Amity in her designated booth when she called me to tell me she was sick was me being helpful. Never did I expect Ryker to have the type of reaction he did, if I had I wouldn’t have even considered it.
Shoving his truck in park, Ryker climbs out of the cab and stalks to my door almost ripping it off its hinges with the violence of which he opens it. “Inside,” is the extent of conversation I get from him as he takes my hand and drags me toward his absolutely magnificent home.
Set back into the forest surrounding it, Ryker’s home is what I would expect to see at a five star ski resort, not in the arid climate of West Texas. It looks like a chalet, a very large chalet. The exterior is made entirely out of half logs with a large wraparound porch, completely with hanging baskets of flowers and a swing suspended from one of the beams. I would do anything to curl up on that swing with a mug of hot chocolate and waste away the hours between dusk and nightfall, but depending on how what happens next goes, I may never get that chance.
Ryker fishes in his pocket, producing a set of keys which he uses to open his oversized front door, then kicks it shut as soon as we’ve cleared the entryway. Pulling me into his arms, my chest pressed hard up against his, Ryker growls, “Nothing will happen here that you don’t want. You tell me to stop, I stop. You want me to slow down, I will. But make no mistake, baby I will have you.”
Is he insane? Stop, slow down? I think the hell not. Granted, I haven’t done this before, never been close to doing anything remotely close, but I know what I want, and what I want is him.
The next doorway we pass through is the one to his bedroom. There is a masculine dark timber dresser and side tables, a wall mounted fifty-inch flat screen, two wingback chairs placed kitty corner to each other, and while nicely painted in muted shades of blue, nothing can distract me from taking in the huge California king bed in the center of it all.
Set on a raised podium, the bed takes up at least a third of the total available space. If Ryker was who chose the soft furnishings then he is a master of design. Dark denim bedding, half a dozen various size pillows, all offset by an accent of hunter green by way of the throw at the end of the bed and toss cushions. Rugged and manly, just like him. Perfect.
My perusal of his personal space is quickly interrupted, though, as Ryker divests me of my shoes and socks before tossing me bodily onto the bed. And with just one look at him from my prone position I know there is no doubt about it, I am going to spontaneously combust. I mean, Ryker hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet and I’m so close to cuming that it would be embarrassing if I weren’t so ridiculously turned on and incapable of rational thought.
Up on my elbows, my eyes fixate on his every movement. I watch as Ryker reaches behind his neck and tugs off his shirt, the motion bunches and flexes his amazing upper body, his muscles rippling with the effort. Seeing him standing at the foot of the bed, his chest rising and falling in a deep but ragged rhythm, I become acutely aware of my power over him. This man wants me. Me. An inexperienced virgin who fought him at every turn before eventually acquiescing to all the awesomeness that is him.
It might be poor form, especially considering the circumstances but something about Ryker’s clenched jaw and rigid posture reminds me of my dad. It’s as if he’s fighting to remain in control, desperate to keep a short leash on his emotions so as not to hurt me. Not that he would; Ryker is incapable of laying a hand on me out of ange
r. That doesn’t change the facts, though. Ryker is fighting a battle within, one which currently could go either way.
Assessing my options, the first being I climb him like a tree and show him I’m neither fragile or breakable, the other being I just wait and see what happens next, I decide on the latter. The problem is, there is a particular part of my body that is begging him to get a move on.
“Jeans and shirt off,” he commands without bothering to look up from where he is removing his own boots. “Leave the bra and panties, though. I want to unwrap my present myself.”
Full body spasm anyone?
Doing as I’m told, I try to remove my clothing in as seductive fashion as I can. But come on, let’s be honest, there’s no real sexy way of disrobing when your jeans are all but painted on. My shirt is gone in a heartbeat but I struggle for a second with the jeans. However, once they’re past my hips Ryker steps in and tugs them the rest of the way off saving me the humiliation of trying to contort myself like a human pretzel.
“Ryker,” my voice comes out in a pathetic whimper.
But as if he knew exactly what I was asking, something not even I was sure of, he wraps his hands around my ankles and tugs them apart. “Beautiful,” he whispers reverently as he takes in my body almost completely bare for him.
Everything begins to move at warp speed from that moment on. Before I know it, Ryker bends at the waist and puts his mouth on me. He kisses my calves, the inside of me thighs and then peels my panties down and presses feather-light kisses against my opening.
“Oh my God,” I whine, needing more.
My fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on, tilting my hips upward as if that will entice him to give me what I need. Closing his mouth over my sensitive bud, Ryker sucks hard. There is nothing gentle about the way he eats at me, devouring, savoring, ravenous in his intensity. There is no doubt that I am his sole focus; my pleasure, my capitulation to his demands, my surrender. What he doesn’t know is that I will gladly give him whatever he wants as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing.
From back to front, over and over again, Ryker licks up and down my slit, making me wetter and wetter with every pass. His mouth is devine, talented in its exploration but he needs to hurry up and move things along. I’m dying here. Dying dammit.
I grind against his mouth wildly, my moans becoming throatier, louder with every swipe of his tongue. Moments that feel like hours later, Ryker thankfully gets with the program as he slides two of Lucifer's thick digits inside of me. They go deep, plunging into my slick channel with little to no resistance thanks to how worked up I am. The wet sounds of my sex and the smell of my arousal fill the room, earning a deep growl of appreciation from the man buried between my thighs.
I'm close, so very, very close to falling over the ragged edge of oblivion, something that Ryker hasn’t failed to notice. "Please, Ryker," I whine again, "I-I need..." I stutter out, not able to form a coherent sentence.
Ryker's grin of pure satisfaction when he lifts his head from my pussy, licking my juices from his lips is full of male arrogance. "You want to cum on my hand, baby, or do you want my cock inside you when you cum for the first time?” He asks smugly, rotating his fingers just so.
"Your cock. Please, I want your cock," I pant.
Swiping his tongue down my slit one last time, Ryker circles my clit, lavishing it with attention before he bites down just hard enough to insight a slight sting of pain to go along with the immense pleasure he’s giving me. His heated breath washes over my over sensitive skin, the two days worth of stubble rasps against my inner thighs as he slowly raises his head to look me directly in the eyes.
"Beg me," he demands, slowly removing his fingers from my dripping pussy. "I need you to tell me how much you want my cock. I want you to beg me to fuck you, baby.”
Unable to do anything but what he asks seeing as my body is strung so tightly it feels as if it is going to snap, I do as he commands. "Please, Ryker, fuck me. I need you. I need it. Please.”
Rubbing my thighs together to try and relieve the ache while Ryker removes the rest of his clothes, my breath becomes choppy at the sight of him in all his naked glory. Granted, Ryker’s isn’t the first penis I’ve ever seen; I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman after all so I’ve seen plenty of porn. You can thank Amity‘s Porn Hub subscription for that. But what I will say, even after paying particularly close attention to that part of the male anatomy on my laptop screen, is that I’ve never seen one quite as beautiful or as terrifyingly large as Ryker’s.
Not only is it huge, almost as thick as my wrist, but it is also long, heavily veined and did I mention long. If I had to guess, I’d say it has to be at least ten-inches in length, something that makes me question whether he’ll even be able to fit inside me and if he does, how much damage a weapon like that will do.
Ryker nips the side of my right breast as he brushes his thumb gently over the other. With his hips nestled between my now spread legs, the huge length of his erection resting against my pussy, he growls, “Are you ready for me?"
Taking him in, his face wet with my juices, hair dishevelled, face a mask of concentration and barely restrained lust, my core clenches. I shiver at the intensity of his gaze as his purely masculine scent surrounds me. He smells like pine and musk, and man. "Yes," I moan wantonly while he laps at my tightly budded nipple. “Yes, I’m ready.”
My verbal ascent is all Ryker seems to need. He notches the crown of his cock at my entrance and edges his way gently but firmly inside of me. Slowly but surely, Ryker continues to thrust, giving me an inch or so extra with each downward stroke. I feel stretched to the brink of pain, my oversensitive tissues are trying desperately to compensate for his size. But as the sting of pain begins to ebb, it is followed by pleasure so immense it feels as if it is going to rip me apart from the inside out. The weight of Ryker’s body covering my own, the power of his hips as he pistons inside of me, and the expression of love and awe on his face is too much. Tears well at the corner of my eyes as I absorb the enormity of what Ryker is giving me. This isn’t simply two bodies connecting; it’s more than that. It’s two hearts beating in sync. Two souls melding.
Before I can stop them a few tears break loose and spill down my cheeks. Ryker groans, a pained utterance that sounds more beast than man. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Am I hurting you? Fuck, I’m hurting you aren’t I?” Gentling his strokes, Ryker starts rocking his hips slowly with a reverence and sensuality I never would have expected from him.
Getting myself together because the last thing I want him to think is the gift that he’s giving me is anything less than spectacular, I reply, "It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Please don’t stop.”
“Can’t keep going if I hurt my girl,” he murmurs, appearing conflicted.
“You haven’t hurt me; you would never hurt me." My reassurance and the hand I raise to stroke down his cheek is enough to convince him I’m telling the truth. And thank all that is holy for that because I don’t think I’d survive if Ryker stopped now.
Ryker’s body covers mine entirely as he give me more of his weight. My nipples rasp roughly against his coarse chest hair, his muscles flex with every thrust of his hips. I lick a path up the strong column of his throat, stopping only when I reach his rapidly beating pulse point. I nip and suck, biting down as he thrusts the rest of his length into me hard.
"Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on, baby. I want to feel your nails digging into my shoulders and your mouth on mine as I take you,” he grunts. I obey immediately, doing exactly as he says.
My nails find purchase as I hold onto him for dear life. Ryker's eyes glitter as he takes in my breasts bouncing with every sharp snap of his hips. His head drops, drawing a nipple into his mouth, the rough texture of his tongue setting off sparks of arousal in every nerve ending. Alternating between my breasts as he lavishes them with attention. "Fuck you taste good," he mutters into the flesh of my breast.
My thighs
clench and my chest heaves. My pussy weeps at his confession. Pistoning into me harder, deeper, and more unrestrained, Ryker releases abandons his ministrations and grins at me as he rotates his hips, hitting my G-spot over and over again.
I moan. He groans. My breath stills while his heaves. My eyes roll back in my head unable to remain open but Ryker's stay firmly affixed to mine before dropping to stare at the juncture of where we’re connected. Our bodies move in perfect sync as he drives me higher and higher, my legs shake, his muscles bunch as we both fight to stave off the inevitable.
Ryker groans, withdrawing his cock from my pussy almost entirely. “You need to get there, sweetheart because in about ten seconds I’m gonna lose it.”
“Harder then," I cry out. “Fuck me harder.”
On his knees now, Ryker pulls me up so that I’m straddling him, my legs spread wide as he thrusts inside me in what can only be described as beautiful in its brutality. In this position, I can feel every ridge, every thick inch of him as his cock drags deliciously over my swollen inner walls.
With my face buried in his throat and my arms wrapped around him, Ryker’s hands grip my hips as he gives me his all. The power behind his thrusts is amazing. The complete control he has over his body as mine clamps down around him is out of this world. The veins in Ryker’s neck become more pronounced as he clenches his jaw hard. Everything about this man fascinates me, enthralls me even, so it should come as no surprise that I’m quickly and unreservedly falling in love with him. And it isn’t just because he’s my first either if that’s what you’re thinking. Honestly, I think I started falling for Ryker the moment I laid eyes on him when I was fourteen years old, but it wasn’t until I met him, learned that he would do everything in his power to protect me and keep me happy that I allowed myself to start my descent.
Slamming me down onto his cock, Ryker startles me out of my reverie. A scream tears from my throat as I cum with Ryker’s hand tangled in my hair, his mouth fused to mine. As Ryker’s climax hits him, he tilts my head back and plunders my mouth, growling as his cock pulses in a steady rhythm. "Fuck me, Seraphina. Jesus fuck," he groans.