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Propping herself up on her elbows, she witnessed the unveiling of his tattoo. A spiraling mass of lines that converged around his heart.
“Does it do something? I heard they can change color and move, and—”
He chortled. “Not mine. My brother likes to experiment, but I prefer the traditional emblems of my warrior class. When I fuck you, it will mesmerize you, be warned.” He plucked at his pants and shook them off, along with his underwear.
She held her breath as he stood boldly between her splayed legs, the huge erection fisted in his right hand. He pumped the shaft and the head of it deepened in color, turning purplish while the veins formed swollen bands and ridges along its length. Below his fist, his hairless balls were enlarged and magnificent. When she finally managed to breathe, it was more of a gulp.
Jamen picked at the waistband of her panties and with a flick of his wrist, snapped it. Her flimsy shield was gone and he tossed the wet cotton over his shoulder. He leaned over her, his cock so rigid and hard it stayed pressed against his belly. With the height advantage, he cast a dark shadow over her entire body, sending his face into the shadows. Only the pinpricks of his eyes shone.
The familiar electric feeling intensified. It was a cue, and she recognized its significance as much as the wetness that filled her pussy. Her clitoris sometimes had the ability to come without being touched, especially when she was spanked, and she was so close to achieving that potential. She fought it and bit hard on her lower lip, hoping it wouldn’t happen. Wriggling lower, she hooked her legs around his thighs and attempted to align his hips with her pelvis.
Jamen smiled. “Not yet, Paige.” He trailed kisses through the valley of her cleavage, across her soft belly, and into her navel. From there, he knelt on the floor by the edge of the bed, draped her knees over his shoulders and made a line of wet circles with his mouth until he reached her bare mound.
“So smooth.” He stroked the cusp of her mons with his nose and combined the gentle touch with his fingers, the tips of them ringing her clitoris. “So amazing, this.”
He didn’t say what he meant. He didn’t have to; she understood. It was well known that the Vendu female had no external clitoris. His fascination was genuine. She acknowledged the interest by spreading her legs wider and allowing him full access to her clit. He caressed it, blew on it, forcing her again and again to the brink of premature orgasm, then he hauled her back from the precipice with a pinch of her folds or a nip of her inner thighs with his mouth. He teased her with kisses and when she thumped the bed with her fists, he lashed her clit with his tongue, over and over.
“I’m fucking coming,” she screamed. She couldn’t control it any longer. She tried to press her legs together, but he kept his head down and didn’t release her pulsating bud from his mouth. He simply sucked harder, transporting her from blissful pleasure into exquisite pain. She writhed and howled, bundling her hair into her fists.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” she hollered. The orgasm rippled on, refusing to diminish. Just as the last spasm died away, he rose to his feet and grasped her wrists, flinging them above her head.
“Yes?” he asked, his face glowing and his eyes inviting her to answer in the affirmative.
“Yes.”
He spread her legs wide and speared her with an almighty thrust. She’d wanted it like this—one hard thrust and no stopping until he breached her with his entire length. No sound escaped her lips; she was too stunned, too aware of his girth and the friction of his cock against her walls. He swelled and she stretched as he held himself in check, waiting for her to breathe, to open her eyes and look at him.
When she did, he seemed agog, as if in a state of bliss. He hadn’t come, she was sure of that, so this was purely rapture brought on by penetrating her.
He groaned, a low growl that purred for a few seconds, then he inhaled deeply. With his palms pressing the backs of her knees down, lifting her bottom higher, he withdrew to the tip of his erection, then slammed back inside her with the same measure of force.
“You’re a true submissive,” he said, as he collided with her.
“Yes. Yes, yes,” she murmured, thrashing her head from side to side.
“There is so much potential within you, human.” He slipped out, then slotted himself back in her pussy with apparent ease.
She clawed at his shoulders and arched her back until she was resting on the top of her head. Another swing of his hips brought him back to her and she greeted his cock with a whoop of delight. Her back landed on the bed with a thump.
“More?” he asked in her ear. “Say ‘please, sir.’”
“Please, sir.”
He thrust harder, using the whole length of his shaft to fuck her. He held her waist for a dozen thrusts before shifting them to her neck. He looped his hands around her throat, and she tensed, wondering if he intended to squeeze it, starve her of air. The idea thrilled her, and terrified her, too. She shook her head.
Jamen paused, his cock half in and out. “Did you think I might hurt you?”
She wasn’t sure—hurt meant one thing, pain another.
“My hands around your throat are a reminder of my power. You should never forget my strength and control over you, but… I would not do what you fear. Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“Speak, Paige.”
“I trust you, sir.”
He left his hands ringing her neck, but his fingers were loose and his grip was powerless. As he returned to stroking her pussy with his cock, he slid the palms over her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. When she arched her back this time, he pinched a nipple. She whimpered.
