Inside her, his fingers pressed deep, the thrusting stopped as he curled slowly up into her G-spot, coaxing her to come toward him, as though he knew he could summon her pleasure with just a come-hither flex. She moaned out her answer, a guttural response beyond rational words. She shuddered, crying out as he ruthlessly drew out another orgasm while holding her gaze, clearly savoring the way she splintered against him.
At last, he slipped his fingers from her and lifted them to his lips, letting her watch as he sucked the three of them that had been so recently washed in her cum. Her stomach tightened, her sex gathering in a furious knot of desire as she watched him lick his fingers clean of his sweet treat she’d obviously denied him the night before.
“Now, you have a choice,” he murmured, sliding his pussy-slick palm along her cheek, leaving a messy, sex-scented smear over her face from jaw to temple. He made sure to slide his thumb just under her nose so she could smell her own lust, heady and sweet. Her head swam with the intensity of it. His fingers slid into her hair, tangling into it.
“Do you want my cum, love?” He leaned up so she could get a good view of his bare body, his nearly purple-crowned cock sprinkling her with pearly pre-cum even as he posed for her.
She nodded, as much as she could now that he was grasping a handful of her hair. “Yes. Fuck yes, Sir! I want it. I want you!” She was dizzy with her hunger for him.
He murmured softly and squeezed the handful of hair until she was writhing with the pleasure his painful grasp caused her. “How do you want me?”
The question, and the way he wrapped her hair around his fist, made her eyes roll back for a moment. He very slowly released his grip to cup her cheek, and his smile was tender and affectionate, his lusts and desires held back as he checked on her.
“I…I don’t know,” she admitted, nuzzling her cheek against his fingers.
“Well, I could fuck your beautiful tits, or your sweet, tight pussy.” He watched her process the suggestions.
She squirmed under the intensity of his question, and the suggestions made her writhe and long for all of it. Everything! “Yes. I want it all!” Her voice caught in a gasp when he smoothed his thumb over her lips.
“Yes, greedy brat! However, our earlier arrangement was for condoms, you know.” He stilled his caress of her mouth.
Her heart hammered harder, and she tried to glance away to the side of the bed to locate the condoms, but all she could see was Travis, his bare chest and pewter wings blocking out everything.
“I know. Condoms are fine.” Vans thought her heart was going to break free of her ribs as she watched his gorgeous body. His cock was so gloriously hard and thick as it arched upward, ready for her.
“I know!” He chuckled, his gaze softening. “Things have changed exponentially. Haven’t they? No one is ever going to get this cock again except you,” he purred quietly as he grasped the base of his cock and slowly painted the shape of a heart over the dappled pre-cum pearls he’d left on her. “And no one will ever touch this little pussy as long as you are mine.”
Her stomach tightened, quivering and straining toward him with a soft, needy croon. “Yes. Oh…oh!” Her eyes widened at the implication that he was asking if she wanted to fuck without using protection. She felt the heat flash across her face, torn between watching him drawing slick pictures along the smooth skin over her ribs and stomach and her denial. “I’m not on the Pill,” she gasped with a hiccup of panic.
“Oh, is that right? So, you’re concerned about little brats? I see. Hhhmm…condom then?” He bared his teeth in an almost feral smile that made her tremble with longing.
She nodded. She wanted to feel him driving deeply into her, skin on skin, with nothing between them but heartbeats. But having children? Oh no. Vanderbilt was not ready for that!
“I want to touch you. Feel you. Stroke you. Love you. Oh Travis, fuck, I love you.” She trembled as the words came pouring out.
With a low, eager growl, he pushed his hips forward. His voice softened to a quiet whisper as he said, “Touch me, precious. Whatever your heart desires.”
When she wrapped her hands around the girth of his cock at the base, he moaned thickly, his pulse running wild under her fingertips as she traced him up and down the underside, smearing his pre-cum into his hard flesh. For a long moment, she watched him dwarf her hands, her fingers curling around the base, and then she cupped her palm around the full balls.
“Vanderbilt…” His voice sounded strained, and she jerked her attention up to his face. The growl of his voice matched his expression. His jaw was clenched tightly around her name. When she met his gaze, he groaned, eyes slitting as his cock throbbed in her fingers. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me. Fuck! When I come, there’s going to be so much for you.” His hips surged forward, pushing into her hands.
Leaning up, she bowed to meet the thrust and licked over the head, heart racing when his pre-cum coated her tongue. Addicted! She was utterly hooked on him. Even though it stung her lips to wrap around his thick cock head, she did it anyway, loving how he shuddered in pleasure when she sucked wetly around him. Totally worth the discomfort!
She drew back, melting down into the curl of feathers that caught her, and stroked him lightly with both hands. He held steady, letting her play with him, groaning and uttering low, dark oaths through his teeth while his gaze burned down at her. She could feel his restraint fracturing, could hear it in the deep, rumbling breaths he growled out and see it plainly in his gaze, which was locked onto hers as though he was mesmerized by her.
“Wrap your silky little fist around me and stroke,” he demanded through his teeth.
She readily obeyed, giving up her teasing as his tone broke. He pulsed in her grip and she squeezed tighter, feeling the storm in him desperate to explode through the last of his reserve. Squeezing in time with his thrusting into her hand, she felt his balls draw up tighter with every long stroke.
When he came, it was with a moan around her name, and he reared up over her. His hips bucked forward toward her—rough and delicious. The fountain of pearly cum arched through the air and sprayed her tits and up her neck and throat, and another thick gush of his seed struck her cheek and went into her hair. His eyes rolled as though the sight of her painted in his seed burned him in some spectacular, beautiful way.
“Oh god!” Vans gasped as he lunged forward and pinned her flat on the bed, his pulsing cock trapped between her belly and his and his mouth caught hers. He was lost in his hunger. It was primal and perfect, their tongues tangling, the pain of her mouth a poignant, sharp bite of delight. His hard body pinned her as he coated her with more and more of his cream, the thick gush of it spurting up between her breasts.
“I love you, Vanderbilt,” Travis moaned against her lips, easing from the roughness as he did. Gracefully, he rolled over, pulling her onto him, still keeping her safe in the comfortable, leathery-scented feathers.
“I love you too, Travis-Sir,” she whispered breathlessly, running warm kisses along his face and the corner of his grinning lips. He looked amazingly sexy under her, and she cupped his jaw with her free hand and rubbed noses with him. “Future Mister Charles.”
He blinked at her, “Mister Charles? Oh, you think so, future Mrs. Conte?” His smiled dangerously while his feathers and fingers fluttered down her spine to her ass, patting her backside gingerly.
“I guess we have some time to decide,” she purred, curling in closer. She laid her cheek against his chest, grinning into the brilliance of his eyes.
The harp music continued from a distant part of the house, sweet and bright. A different song now, but played with the same skill. No longer full of longing, this melody held a promising look to the future. She felt herself smiling, feeling as if her own life were reflecting that waterfall of brilliance.
The future, where before nothing existed, overflowed with possibilities. Regardless of what name she put to it, she couldn’t dream of more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Diana Rose Wilson
Diana Rose Wilson grew up under the shadow of the Mayacamas Mountains, raised by outlaws and bikers. She has been involved in the lifestyle since 1989, including working at a high-end adult boutique specializing in fetish, BDSM, and LGBT merchandise. Her debut book is Wicked Masquerade, first in the Forbidden Secrets series. She has also been published in Finesse, a publication for the Thomas Keller Restaurant group.
Her mundane work experience spans the computer gaming industry, technology dot coms, hazardous waste disposal including the Gulf Oil spill cleanup, County Administration, and the culinary industry.
Currently Diana lives in wine country with her husband, where she enjoys good wine, better food, loud Harleys, 3-day eventing, and the delights of deviant erotica. She is a member of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, Snoopy Writers, and CFTW Writer’s Block.
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