“Only if you’ll be gentle with me,” he replied.
She threw a leg over him and sat down gingerly on his upper thighs.
“You’re gonna have to let me do all the heavy lifting,” she said as she crossed her arms over the hem of her shirt and dragged it over her head. The sight of her lacy little bra—cups filled with the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen—made his blood run thick and hot through his veins.
“I am at your command, milady,” he said. “Do with me as you will.”
She took hold of his hands and laced her fingers with his, pressed his arms to the bed to either side of his head and leaned in to take his mouth. The moment her tongue slipped between his lips, his cock shot hard and thick and leapt against her taut belly.
She took complete control of him—her mouth and tongue doing lustful things to his body with no more than her kisses. Her thighs were locked against his hips, her legs bracketing his and as her kisses pressed deeper, hotter, she began to rotate her groin against his.
He groaned low in his throat and his fingers tightened around hers. He met her tongue thrust for thrust. He nibbled her bottom lip and licked her upper one. He growled when she caught his lip and suckled. His hips left the bed in invitation.
“Um hum,” she said against his mouth then dragged his hands above his head. She released his mouth and looked down at him—her eyes boring into his. “You keep your hands right where I put them. Okay?”
He nodded, unable to speak for his chest was rising and falling so rapidly he thought he might well pass out if another breath of air left his body.
She unhooked their fingers to unbutton his shirt. Gently she peeled it over his shoulders and laid it at the foot of the bed. Slowly—infinitely slowly—trailed her palms down the undersides of his arms, over his shoulder until her fingers were on his pecs.
He tensed and had to school his face not to show the terror her touching him there brought instantly to mind.
“Relax,” she cooed to him, so unaware of the ugly things, the painful things that had been done to him.
He couldn’t tell her. Most likely would never tell her.
“I’m not going to hurt you, baby,” she said as though some of his fear had leached into her passion.
“I know,” he whispered and forced his body to relax.
She smiled and her fingers began the movements that he had stored so carefully in his memory. He closed his eyes as she circled each nipple without touching it. Slowly clockwise then reversing the movement in slightly widening circles before closing in once more. Time and again she neared the hardening little nub but didn’t touch it. He squirmed—wanting her to, needing her to.
“Do you remember the first time we made love?”
He opened his eyes to find her looking at him so sweetly. “Aye,” he said. “I’ll not forget it.”
She arched her brow as though about to impart a joke. “This is like our first time all over again except I’m playing your part.”
He went back to that night and realized he had done the exact same thing to her. She had been all but writhing beneath him before he ever put finger to nipple.
“You’re evil,” he said.
“You’ve no idea.”
She caught his left nipple—which had always been the least sensitive—between her thumb and index finger. No pressure. She just held it gently as she stared into his eyes. He knew what was coming next and the anticipation made his cock throb.
She increased the compression just a bit then backed off. Again and backed off. Increased the pressure a little, backed off, and then gently twisted.
“Chere…” He sighed deeply for he knew she was going to release him and she did, her fingers sliding like a wisp of air across his chest to his right nipple.
The circling began and he realized he was moving his hips beneath her in a constricted circle. He was hard as a rock and his balls were tight. By the time she closed her fingers on his nipple, he was drawing in short gulps of air.
“You tormented me for nearly twenty minutes,” she said.
“Mea culpa,” he said and truly meant it.
She plucked his nipple with just enough force to give him a bit of a sting and he widened his eyes—afraid the slight pain would bring back unwanted remembrances from his incarceration but before it could, she was pushing her body down his and her mouth took over for her fingers.
“Mother of God!” he hissed between his teeth as she began sucking.
Her tongue—sweet Merciful Alel—her hot little tongue was flicking over that highly sensitive nipple then her lips were drawing it into her mouth. Her teeth closed over it and he bucked as though he’d been spurred. Her light giggle brought a growl from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Be good or I’ll stop,” she warned as she switched her attention to his other nipple. Had he thought it less sensitive? Hell no, it wasn’t! It was just as alive with nerve endings that were doing a dance of their own against his chest wall. He squirmed as she nibbled him and went as still as death as she slithered down another few inches while she placed hot kisses all along his tiger line to his navel.
“You know what a tiger line is, Tater?” she’d asked.
“It is like a drum line, Chere?” he’d responded.
“Idjit. It’s that line of hair that that runs from your chest down the middle of your stomach all the way to the pubic hair.”
“I thought that was the happy trail.”
“Nope. That only goes from the stomach down.”
Oh the things you could learn from a horny woman who spent too much time looking at the pictures of movie stars, he’d thought.
He yelped and jumped as her tongue darted into his navel.
“Pay attention!” she warned, somehow knowing his mind had wandered.
He swallowed hard. Her mouth was so close to where he really wanted it to be.
But there was an elastic waistband between her mouth and his cock and all that cotton fabric that was covering his straining erection. Her chin was resting on the top of his shaft, pinning it down as she swirled her tongue around and around the deep indention of his bellybutton.
“Chere, please!” he pleaded, gripping the pillow under his head with enough strength to pop it.
“You paid very close attention to my navel,” she said. “I’m returning the favor.”
She blew her hot breath across the wetness left by her tongue and he shuddered hard.
She pushed herself up and reached her hands behind her to unhook her bra. As she did, he held his breath, waiting for those glorious globes to appear. The bra came loose and she brought her hands around to cup her breasts as the straps slid slowly from her shoulders. His palms itched to snatch the garment from her, to mold themselves to her flesh. With infinite slowness, she coyly slid one arm free of one strap, then the other arm was free and she was sitting just above his knees with the cups of the bra pressed loosely to her chest.
“I need to see,” he said. He licked his lips. “Jesus, chere. I need to—”
She let the bra fall away and her breasts jiggled lightly as they were bared. He could feel his fangs lengthening in his mouth. She let him look his fill then hooked her fingers in the waistband of his pajamas and tugged then down over his hard erection. He sprang free so powerfully it made him gasp.
“What a tasty-looking little treat that is,” she said and he remembered saying those exact words when he had seen her clit for the first time.
He was trembling as she continued pulling his pajama bottoms down, walking on her knees until she was at the foot of the bed and he had to draw his own knees up to accommodate her divesting him of his pants. She tossed them to the floor and when he would have straightened his legs, she shook her head.
“Nope, that’s not how it happened,” she said, her hands wrapped around his ankles as she pushed his legs apart as far as she needed them to go.
His heart was lurching in his chest as she crawled up the bed between his spread knees u
ntil she could insinuate her hands under his ass. Though she didn’t lift him as he had her that day so long ago, she did look up at him to bestow the same kind of devilish grin he had given her before putting his tongue to the wet folds between her legs.
The moment her tongue touched the underside of his balls and began its slow trip up to the tip of his straining head, he was shivering, the pillow twisting violently in his clenched fists. His back arched as her fingers dug into the tender flesh of his ass for her hot, wet tongue was hitting every erogenous zone he had. The sensation was making his toes curl and his body sweat. He swept his tongue around his lips—felt the scrape of his fangs against it—as she made that slow journey up his cock again and again as though he were an ice cream cone.
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his eyes rolling back in his head.
She swirled her tongue over his balls. Licked them. Nudged them with her chin. Sucked. Lapped at him like a little kitten at a bowl of milk. Flicked her tongue again and again along the ridge between the two halves until he was squirming.
Then she moved up a little ways on the bed and took him in her mouth all the way to the base, her throat relaxing completely.
“Fuck!” he yelled and clapped a hand over his own mouth.
Heart slamming behind his ribs, he writhed beneath her hot tongue and wet palate as she drew on him and nibbled and slid her tongue into his slit. She took one hand from under his ass and circled it at the base of his cock then bobbed her head up and down on him until he thought he would go crazy. He was straining not to come—wanting the pleasure to go on and on for as long as he could hold out. Enjoying the exquisite torture that was turning him into a mushy puddle of need. His hand left his mouth and tangled in her hair as she drew forcefully. His heels were digging into the mattress, his hips completely off the bed, his back torqued.
“Mmmm.” The sound she made around his iron-hard flesh made the head of his cock tingle and before he could stop himself, he was coming.
His thighs tightened as wave after wave of cum jetted from him. He was grinding his groin against her mouth each time her lips met the base of his cock. She was swallowing each jet as it came and when he finally shuddered one last time and fell limp, she began licking the cum from his cock with slow licks that caused him to whimper from the sensations that were still rocketing through him. When she was finished, she slid up his body and took his mouth again. The taste of his own juices upon her tongue was a heady sensation that made him see stars behind his eyes. The scent of it rocked him.
She lifted her mouth from his. “How’s your weenie now, Tater Tot?”
He swallowed hard. “Nothing…” He tried again. “Nothing wrong with my weenie. How’s your cunt?”
She tilted her head slightly to one side as though thinking. “Feeling a bit empty, actually.”
“Then let’s remedy that.”
He had her on her back and partially under him before she could take another breath.
“Man, you’re not getting any slower in your old age,” she said, her eyes wide. His slow grin made her cock an eyebrow. “Gonna show me how it’s done, big boy?”
“After I get you out of these pants,” he said.
When he’d made good on that and she lay stretched out naked on his bed, he threw a leg over hers and wedged himself between them, spreading her long legs wide. Carefully, he lowered his weight atop her—pinning her hands to either side of her head as she had his—then writhed his groin over hers.
“You are mine,” he said. “Do you know that?”
“I do.”
He shook his head. “No, chere. Do you know that?”
She tightened her fingers around his. “Yes, Taylor. I know that. I am yours. I always have been and I always will be.”
“Best you remember that, woman,” he said, swirling his hips atop hers. He dragged his cock along her folds and felt it beginning to thicken.
“Not likely to forget it,” she replied. “You’ve marked me for life.”
He dipped his head to claim her lips. Unlike her kiss, his was slow and soft and positioned this way and then that. His tongue slid between her lips ever so gently then flicked across the bottom lip. Slow and easy—as though he were savoring, tasting her mouth instead of kissing her. His lips slid from hers along her jawline to her ear and he caught her lobe between his teeth. She sucked in a breath then shivered as he flicked his tongue slowly but firmly inside. He worked his way back along her jaw, across her chin and the up the other jaw to relish her other ear in the same exact way then returned to her mouth to give her a deeper, firmer kiss—his tongue invading.
And that was the last little bit of softness he extended for he knew how his woman liked to be taken and it wasn’t with courtly manners or gentle maneuvers. She was a hot-blooded Irish lass with a willing body made for sin. He snatched his hand from hers and cupped her breast, lowered his head and took her nipple with a hard, tight pull that had her free hand burying itself roughly in his hair.
“Yes,” he said around the constriction of her nipple and set to work doing to her body what she had done to his.
Alternating fiercely between her breasts, he brought her nipples to hard nubs that were straining toward his tongue and lips with each pass from left to right. He let go of her other hand and slammed both hands under her ass, jerked her up to meet him as he flowed down her body and locked his mouth tight to her clit.
“Taylor!” she cried out and now both hands were clamped in his hair as his tongue flicked and probed and licked and fucked and lapped and swirled from the bottom to the top of her cunt and back again. Pressing quick little flicks across her clit, he edged one hand over until he insinuated his thumb into the tight little space between her cheeks. Her hands jerked in his hair and he growled a warning but his thumb was already inside her and she was lifting her legs to lock around his shoulders.
He batted them down and slid up her so quickly she gasped. His thumb still impaling her, he rammed his cock into her heat and rocked forward with enough force to make her grunt. She quickly repositioned her legs until they were clamped around his waist tight enough that it was hard to draw a deep breath. That didn’t matter. He was hurrying her toward a climax that would do more than take her breath away.
He pushed hard. Pulled back. Pushed deeper. Held it. Buried his face against the side of her neck. His fangs took her vein at the very moment the first hard quiver of her vaginal muscles began to ripple. She arched her head and he was afraid he would tear her flesh but he moved his mouth with her and drank deeply of the honey sweetness of her blood. The warmth of it flowing down his throat was like the seed that had flowed down hers. The thought made him shiver as wave after wave of pleasure undulated through his woman.
Her hands relaxed in his hair for only second before he came hard. He rammed savagely into her willing body as her pulsing muscles milked the cum from his rigid shaft. His last spurt came at the end of the last little tug that faded into stillness inside her body.
Exhausted, they fell asleep with him still inside her.
It was the nightmare that tore them apart.
He bucked as though something scalding had been poured down his back and rolled off her with a wild cry. He hit the floor facedown and curled in on himself, scuttling into the fetal position, pushing away from the bed to jam himself as close to the wall as he could get.
Laci shot to a sitting position with her lips parted, her eyes wide as she watched him flailing on the floor.
The door opened and the sound of crepe soles sliding across the tile came at him. He crossed his arms over his face and heard the pitiful sounds coming from the very depths of him.
“Fifty milligrams of trastacáin,” someone yelled. “Stat!”
He was kicking out at whoever was leaning over him but they grabbed his legs. The wild bellow of rage and terror resounded through the room and someone else grabbed his arms. He snapped his head at them—trying to snag them with his fangs—but they pulled his arms over his hea
d.
“Don’t hurt him!”
That was a voice he knew. A voice filled with tears and horror and so much hurt it made his heart ache.
“We’re not trying to hurt him, Agent Albright, but we can’t let him hurt himself, either.”
Running footsteps.
Someone flipping him over so his face was pressed tight to the floor.
He could see Laci standing beside the bed—naked and trembling—as the held him down and slammed a vac-syringe against his neck. The hot payload made him cry out but then his world shut down.
He came to five hours later with Laci sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. He struggled to push the numbness, the floating feeling from his head. Her pretty face kept skittering away each time he blinked.
“Hey,” she said when she realized his eyes were open.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
“Could I talk to you a minute, Laci?”
He turned his head to see the doctor standing on the other side of his bed.
The doctor smiled at him.
She squeezed his hand.
“I’ll be back, okay?” she asked as she got up. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead, released his hand then skirted the bed, following the doctor out.
Alone, Taylor turned his face from the door to the ceiling. All expression faded away and he began to tremble. Though she had smiled at him, her eyes were filled with dark shadows that he knew would become tears as soon as she was clear of those who might see.
“You know I’m not whole, baby,” he whispered. “I may never be whole again.”
He doubled his fists and pressed the backs of them tightly to his eyes. He was struggling not to release the scream that was building in his chest.
The hellion was whispering to him, had been since he woke with Laci in his arms. It was warning him that Laci no longer belonged to him and hinting there was another female available to satisfy his needs.
He knew very little about hellions, the alien creature known as the Revenant Worm. Residing in the kidney of its host, the hellion had a symbiotic relationship with the Reaper. It gave him longevity, psychic powers and the strength of ten human males.
A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) Page 5