Desolation Road (Torpedo Ink 4) - Page 101

“You taste so incredibly good, kiska.” He put his fingers in front of her mouth. “You’re a good little kitty, so I’ll share sometimes.”

He watched as she licked at his fingers. It was so sensual to watch her little tongue darting out to take his offering. When she was finished, he led her around the room once again, pointing out the streaks of fire glittering on the walls from her fancy tail and collar. All the while his cock grew harder and harder.

He walked her to the bed, where he urged her to bend over the side, half on and half off. Her tail was very much on display, a high arc, sprouting a beautiful red between her trembling cheeks. He used his hands and voice to soothe her, once again nuzzling her with his mouth, feeding on her, licking and sucking to bring her close until she was trembling and purring, nearly frantic. Once again, he backed off, rubbing her back and the base of her spine, fucking her gently with the plug.

“You’re going to feel very full, kiska, when my cock is in you. It will feel so good. You’re going to be used to that feeling. No matter what, there will always be such a fullness stretching you, but it will always feel good.”

He remembered how tight she’d been that first time he’d entered her. He’d barely managed to push his cock into that constricting, scorching tunnel. Now, with her plug so solidly in her ass, even as slender as it was, there would be even less room. She was slick though, and so ready for him. Desperate for him. Her breath sounded like ragged little counterpoints to the small thrusts of his hips as he pushed the crown of his cock into her hot entrance.

Her body didn’t know what it wanted to do. He felt her muscles frantically grab for him, surround him and squeeze down, fearful that he might escape, and yet he was so large, at the same time there was that need to push him back out. He found himself needing to watch the urgent fight and at the same time throw his head back and howl at the exquisite torture. He was on fire. He was in paradise. He was in hell. It was the best fucking moment of his life and he hadn’t even entered her fully.

He caught hold of her hips, stilling her motion, refusing to allow her to move forward or back. She was trapped between him and the bed, mewling softly, a small agonized plea for his cock, the need building in her to a frenzied state, just the way he knew would happen. He wanted that for her. A spectacular orgasm, a series of them. Something different only he could give her.

He surged into her, driving through her silken tunnel, that tight, scorching-hot place that took him out of the world of sin and hell that he was mired in. She lifted him, short-circuited his brain, driving everything out of it until there was only his woman, his red-hot, sizzling sex kitten squeezing the life out of his cock, determined to milk him dry. He buried himself deep over and over, listening to her soft cries, the breath hissing out of her lungs, watching the way her fingers found the quilt on the bed and her nails buried deep to try to hang on when there was no way to stay anchored. He was going to send his woman flying as high as he could.

That silken channel pulsed around him with her frantic heartbeat, a frenzied symphony of urgent need. He slammed his cock home over and over, streaks of fire racing up his spine, spreading like wild flames through him, dancing over her, taking her by surprise.

She screamed as her body clamped down on his like a vise. The orgasm swept through her, a formidable surge racing like a tidal wave. The waves kept coming, sweeping through her body, each more powerful than the last. He reached up and caught the beautiful furry tail, and in time with his thrusting hips, began to fuck her with that thin plug, over and over, creating a new sensation, adding to the overwhelming contractions in her body.

He felt those waves rolling through her thighs, the cheeks of her ass, all the while he kept hammering into her, fucking her with the plug, feeling the power of those orgasms, one after another progressively growing stronger as they raced through her. Fiery living silk, hot as hell, gripped his cock from every angle, squeezed and massaged with a thousand fingers, licked with a thousand tongues, burned with as many flames, killing him with a beauty he’d never experienced before.

He moved in her with brutal strokes, hard and fast, but with each fierce stroke he knew he was loving her. He was giving her something extraordinary, his gift in exchange for the beauty and wonder of hers. He wasn’t going to last much longer, but he held out as long as humanly possible. “Scarlet, moya literaturnaya ledi, ya tebya lyublyu.” He couldn’t tell her in English. But it was the fucking truth. He loved Scarlet Foley more than life itself.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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