Grave Debt

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Grave Debt Page 10

by D. D. Miers


  "Come on," he begged. "You can't just tease me."

  "Can't I?" I asked with a grin, rubbing myself a little harder at the sight of his eagerness. "What are you going to do to stop me?"

  He cursed under his breath, sending a shiver of pleasure up my spine. I arched my hips up into my own touch, moaning as I rubbed faster. There was no need to take my time with myself. I could come as many times as I liked before I touched him. And that was a very nice feeling. I threw caution to the wind, going for it like I only had five minutes before I had to leave for work. I let him watch as I undid myself, pulling out all the tricks I knew to make myself cum faster. It was a bit of a struggle with the uncomfortable position, but once I was into it enough, I forgot the strain in my legs, flying high and getting close.

  My breath caught as I neared climax. I brought my other hand from behind me to curl fingers inside myself as I rubbed faster, hips writhing, pleasure pulsing like my blood in my ears, in time with Ethan's ragged breaths. In this position, my legs still folded to either side of his lap, my weight on my neck and shoulders, my back curved like a bow, I was like a coiled spring, like an arrow about to be fired. The tension was almost painful, only adding to the sensory overload of orgasm.

  "Vexa, please," Ethan begged, his voice ragged with desire, and I gasped as pleasure crescendoed and washed over me.

  I lay there for a moment, relaxing the tense posture of my back, noticing the uncomfortable ache in my legs, relishing in the delicious tingle of afterglow over my skin. I luxuriated in heady, tactile sensation while Ethan lay whining between my thighs. Actually whining, low growls rising into canine whimpers.

  "You still okay?" I asked, sitting up. He still looked human, except for a slight golden glint in his eyes.

  "No," he said, licking his lips. "I am as far from okay as I think I have ever been."

  I laughed a little, resettling myself in his lap and leaning over him, half to check his restraints half to move my legs, which were starting to fall asleep.

  "You want me to cut you loose?" I asked, tracing the belt.

  "More than anything," he groaned, pressing his face into my breasts. "But you shouldn't."

  "I don't want you to be uncomfortable," I said, running my fingers through his hair.

  "No, no, this is good uncomfortable," he said, kissing the space just between my breasts. "Horrible, awful, really good uncomfortable. Don't stop."

  I laughed again but, reassured that he was okay and into this, I continued.

  I shifted down to kiss him again, long and slow, denying him even my tongue, loving the way he squirmed and leaned into every touch.

  I gave him what he wanted by inches, as slow as I was able. Any time he started to get too worked up, I backed off, slowed down even further, leaving him frustrated and desperate but still in control of himself. By the time I finally slipped a hand into the waist band of his pants, he shook with need. I think he nearly finished just at the first touch of my fingers against his shaft, the first gentle squeeze. I decided then that, if this became a regular thing, I was going to make it happen eventually. Just thinking about making him fall apart with a single touch was such a rush that I had to stop and touch myself again, much to his delight and frustration, until he literally begged me to let him use his mouth. I was generous enough to allow him that much. I stood over him, my hands braced on the headboard, while he did all that his restraints would allow him. I'd heard oral referred to as worship before, but never really appreciated how accurate the term could be until this moment. Every moment that his mouth wasn't preoccupied, he whispered, moaned, and growled my name, telling me how perfect I was, how much he needed me. The praise was almost as good as his mouth.

  "Vexa," he moaned, pressing butterfly kisses to my stomach. "Beautiful, perfect, wonderful Vexa. I am dying. This is literally killing me."

  I laughed, stroking his hair.

  "Want me to let you out?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "No, but if I can't be inside you soon I will actually die. I am one hundred percent serious."

  Laughing, I lowered myself down into his lap to kiss him again, tasting myself on his lips.

  "I don't know," I purred against those lips. "Do you think you've earned it?"

  "I will do anything," he begged. "Please. Please."

  I grinned. "I like you begging," I said. "That's a good look for you."

  "Also," he whined, "this is seriously starting to hurt."

  "The belt?" I asked, reaching for it, worried.

  "No," he said, and rocked his hips up against me, grinding his still very hard erection against my backside. He groaned, doing it again. "Actually if you just don't move . . ."

  I shifted away from him immediately with a wicked grin. He almost sobbed, kicking at the sheets in frustration.

  "You've been a very good boy," I said, kissing his forehead. "You deserve better than that."

  I slipped out of his lap, just long enough to grab a condom from the nightstand.

  "Oh, thank God," Ethan said, breathless relief making his tense shoulders relax. I tore open the package with my teeth and moved between his legs.

  "Want to see a trick?" I asked, grinning as I took his shaft in hand. He raised an eyebrow, too desperate to question me as I put the condom in my mouth. I bent over him, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and pressed the condom into place with my tongue. I slid him deeper into my mouth, rolling the condom down his shaft with my lips. He swore colorfully as the heat of my mouth surrounded him, hips bucking, but I held him down. I was still in control of this rodeo.

  When the condom and my lips hit the base of his cock I withdrew, pretending my eyes weren't watering and fighting the urge to cough.

  "Holy shit," he said, looking at me like I was made of solid gold.

  I didn't waste any more time. I was almost as eager to have him inside me as he was. I knelt over him, reaching back to hold his cock in place as I lowered myself slowly onto him. He froze, his eyes shining with lupine amber, looking like he didn't dare to even breathe as his head slid against my folds. I took my time, sliding against him a few times, before I finally let him press inside. I took a deep breath as the first inch spread me open. He was thick, and I shivered with anticipation of how he would feel completely inside me. But it would be a while still before I found out. I stayed where I was, his cock just barely inside of me, enjoying the feeling, until he twitched with eagerness. Then I took him just a little deeper. Maybe another inch.

  "Vexa!" he said, a little too loudly for us being in a house with other people sleeping in it. I shushed him, trying not to laugh, and sank down the rest of the way, swearing as he struck deep inside me. I felt so good, so full, my clit throbbing with my pulse.

  It was clear that Ethan felt as good as I did, his head thrown back against the headboard, his breathing harsh. As I saw his hands flex against his bonds, claws gleaming. I remembered I wasn't just going slowly for my own entertainment.

  "There we are," I said, soothingly, running my hands over his legs and stomach in soothing circles. "How do you feel?"

  He took several deep breaths before speaking, regaining his control, though he couldn't quite sheathe his claws.

  "Good," he said, breathless. "God, so good."

  "How's the wolf?" I asked, rocking my hips slowly, grinding him deeper inside me. He groaned, and I heard the leather belt straining again.

  "Watching," he finally admitted, a growl in his voice. "I think I have a grip on him. At least as much of a grip as I can have."

  "Good boy," I said. "Can you hold on if I keep going?"

  "Yeah, but I don't think you can trust me to tell you to stop if I start slipping," he admitted through a grimace.

  "Then I'll just be extra careful," I told him, raising my hips until he was just barely inside me. "And extra, extra slow."

  I brought myself down again in a long slow slide, relishing the heat and pressure of every inch, my toes curling in the blankets. I loved the way he fit inside m
e, and the way he pressed against my inner walls when I angled my hips just the right way.

  Both because I wanted to test Ethan's limits and because I simply couldn't resist, I kept going, a heartbeat pace, not too fast or too slow. After all the teasing, I knew Ethan didn't have a lot of endurance left. I watched him carefully, resisting the urge to lose myself in the pleasure. I rubbed my clit in lazy circles for another layer of heat, building like a fire within me. It had been too long since I'd had this. Had Ethan been alone all this time as well, I wondered? I got the impression he hadn't been with anyone since the curse, and I could understand why. But I kind of loved the thought of being the one to give this to him after so long, after he'd maybe thought it was lost to him forever.

  Ethan started out watching me, his eyes devouring my every motion like he wanted to engrave this memory into his mind forever. But as I kept going, he had to close his eyes, holding his breath, arms tense against the belt as he wrestled with the wolf and with his own desire to cum. When I saw him start to shake, I slowed down all at once, back to the slowest pace I could manage. He cursed bitterly under his breath, but after a moment, his breathing evened out and a little of his self-control return. As soon as he was a little more in control, I sped up again, a little faster than I had been before. I was eager to cum as well. But I couldn't afford to be selfish, unfortunately. I had to ease him through this to prove it could work at all.

  I set up a solid rhythm, watching him carefully, slowing down as soon as he got too worked up, speeding up once he had his grip again. I'd never had sex in such a leisurely way before, and I was enjoying it. Ethan, by contrast, looked like he was being tortured.

  "If your goal here is to make me hate you," he gasped, as I slowed down to nearly a stop again, "you're succeeding."

  "Hang in there just a little longer," I said, closing my eyes as I fought my own urge to go faster. I'd been so close to cumming about a hundred times and pulled back before it could happen, trying to save it. "We're almost there, aren't we?"

  "God, yes," Ethan said, hips shaking as he tried to push up into me only for me to hold him down. "But the wolf is so close, Vexa. I don't know how much longer I can hold him back no matter how slow we go."

  "You sure you aren't just saying that because you want me to speed up?" I teased him, grinding down on him.

  "That, too," Ethan said, through clenched teeth. "Also, my arms are actually getting sore."

  "Okay," I said with a deep breath, leaning up to kiss him briefly. "Hang on tight, baby."

  I threw myself into a rapid pace that shook the headboard and made Ethan tense all over, a string of strangled curses leaving him. I bit my lip, every impact setting off fireworks of pleasure inside me. Delayed gratification is a bitch, but God does it feel good to finally give in after waiting for so long.

  Ethan dug his heels into the mattress, thrusting up to meet me in sharp, breath-stealing impacts. I closed my eyes, focusing myself entirely on the sensation.

  "Almost," Ethan growled. "So close—Vexa."

  Orgasm approached like the peak of a rollercoaster that had been climbing for what felt like hours. The spring was coiled to its absolute breaking point and if I didn't release it soon . . .

  I should have been paying more attention. I didn't realize anything was wrong until I heard the leather snap and the snarl of the wolf. By the time I opened my eyes, Ethan already had me by the shoulders, shoving me back into the mattress. I had an instant to fear that I was about to die, and then Ethan slammed into me so hard I saw stars.

  He plowed into me like an animal, like he'd die if he didn't, like everything depended on fucking me as hard and fast as he was physically able. My hips weren't on the bed at all, my legs wrapped around him, my hands on his chest. With the maybe two brain cells I had to spare with the pleasure rapidly overloading my brain, I saw he wasn't completely gone, at least not yet. He was still more man than wolf but slipping away rapidly. Fur replaced skin, teeth grew longer. I fumbled with my magic past the orgasm, trying so hard to steal my ability to think, wrapping it around the core of his curse as I had at the drive-in, compressing it, pushing it back, embracing it.

  "Vexa," Ethan said, his voice an unrecognizable animal growl. I looked into his eyes and didn’t see Ethan there at all. He hadn't been wrong when he'd said the wolf was not him. There was something else completely behind his eyes. Something unnatural and full of hate. Something that would have torn my throat out right now except for Ethan's sheer willpower and its own primal need.

  The impact of Ethan's hips against my thighs rang sharply through the room, as did his bestial snarls and growls, and my own cries, all attempt at control lost. Pleasure raced through my veins like fire with every ferocious strike. I held onto his curse with the last of my reason, digging my nails in as my vision went white, like it was all that could hold me to the earth.

  Orgasm hit me like a landslide, like a volcanic eruption, like a force of nature rampaging through me. Every nerve burned, every muscle tensed. I made a guttural, desperate noise, every part of me reduced to a white-hot point of mindless ecstasy.

  It was only as the wave receded, I realized Ethan had finished as well. He hung over me, holding on tight, breathing labored. I still had my grip on his curse, and I pushed a little harder against it. I watched the wolf recede, until Ethan, exhausted and spent, collapsed onto the bed next to me.

  I rolled onto my side to face him, murmuring reassurances and stroking his hair. He was conscious, though only just.

  "You . . . hurt?" he struggled to say.

  "No, no, I'm fine," I told him. "You didn't hurt me. Everything is okay."

  He gave a shuddering sigh of relief and I kissed him, scattering them over his brow and cheeks, as relieved as he was. He opened his eyes, the same warm color they'd always been, no more trace of the wolf gold. He smiled at me for a moment, and I smiled back, a strange sense of victory filling me that was almost sweeter than the orgasm. We did it. Not quite the way we'd expected to, but we did it.

  Someone knocked on the bedroom door, and we both froze.

  "Everyone alive in there?" my aunt called.

  Humiliation rushed through me. Ethan groaned and hid his face in the sheets.

  "Yeah, we're fine," I called back. "Everything's fine!"

  "You wouldn't have guessed from the noises," Aunt Persephona said bluntly. "But we're very happy for the both of you."

  "Yeah, congratulations on the sex," Cole said through the door, and my humiliation increased another ten degrees. "But in the future, it might be considerate to warn people that you're about to risk releasing a murderous werewolf into the house!"

  "Or just do it somewhere else," my aunt suggested. "A locked bunker somewhere, maybe."

  "A soundproof bunker," Cole added.

  "Sorry!" I said.

  "It won't happen again," Ethan said.

  Cole and Aunt Persephona returned to bed and Ethan and I lay next to one another, bone weary and now thoroughly embarrassed.

  "At least your aunt isn't the conservative type?" Ethan said, trying to lighten the mood. I laughed softly and he joined in, the both of us overwhelmed by all that had happened. After a moment I got up, stretching, to do some minimal clean up, including disposing of the destroyed belt. We'd have to get something stronger. When I was done, I fell back into the bed with Ethan, who'd used the last of his strength just to turn the right way around on the bed. He pulled me close as I laid down, and I snuggled under his chin.

  "Just so you know," I murmured, my eyes already closed. "This is definitely going to happen again."

  Chapter 12

  Breakfast the next morning was uncomfortable for about ten minutes, until Cole told a dirty joke that left us all in tears.

  "So how was the couch?" I asked Cole, as Ethan helped my aunt make pancakes.

  "Tolerable," Cole said. "I've had worse. Your animals did take turns trying to smother me, however. You ever had a dead wolfhound try to lay on your face while you're sleeping?" />
  "Yeah, sorry," I said, chuckling. "The smell is the worst part, right? I'm thinking about stuffing him with potpourri."

  "It can't hurt," Cole said. "But no amount of air fresheners or taxidermy are going to change the fact that you rezzed him too late. The remains were just too far gone. If you want to keep something as a familiar, you have to get to the body while it's fresh. Once bloat sets in, you'll never manage to make it smell right."

  "You're assuming I rezzed Mort intentionally," I said with a scoff. "He was just the closest, biggest dead thing on hand when I realized there was a big-ass wolf in my house."

  "Can we try to avoid corpse talk at the table?" Ethan asked with a grimace.

  "Well then why haven't you put him back down?" Cole asked, ignoring Ethan.

  "I was too busy at first," I said. "I did try, eventually, but he's really packed with energy and it doesn't want to shake loose. And honestly, by that point he'd fought your mountain lion for me and just been a really good dog in general and, well, I got attached."

  "That's how it always is with strays," Aunt Persephona said, shaking her head as she put a stack of pancakes on the table. "You swear you're just taking them in for a day until you can bring them to a shelter, and the next thing you know they're curling up on your lap and begging for ham scraps and you realize they're not going anywhere."

  "Mort is a bit more than a stray," Cole said thoughtfully, eyeing the dog, who was laying by the sliding doors to the backyard enjoying the sun. "There's something strange about how conscious he seems to be."

  "Something about the candle, maybe?" I said with a shrug.

  "That, or your hidden talent is running some kind of magical dog behavior program in your subconscious," Cole said.

  "Sounds plausible to me," Ethan laughed.

  Mort raised his head briefly to yawn, then rolled over again, ignoring us.

  "I should probably go and see to the cats before I sit down," my aunt said, wiping off her hands and heading for the yard. Her undead cats didn't need feeding, but they did need to be re-energized regularly and checked for damage to their remains, and the dead pests they delivered had to be dealt with.

 

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