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And I plunge forward.
I thought her eyes were wide and bright before, but it’s nothing to how shocked she looks once I thrust into her.
Because now she can feel my lust and desire for her in return.
And I lust for her like I have never felt for any other female or knew I could ever feel.
I want to fuck and fuck and fuck.
I want to feel her sweet cunt clutch and spasm around me—the second I think it, she does it, both feeling and fulfilling the desire in the same moment.
Which is when I’m overwhelmed by her desire to feel me move. She wants to be ridden and ridden hard. She wants to feel what it’s like to be taken by a man who wants her more than anything else on the planet, and I can give her that.
I’m obsessed with the feel of her around me. I’m obsessed with caressing her cunt with every single ridge of my cock. I’m obsessed with the noises she makes as I drag out and then slowly shove back in again.
I’m obsessed with the way she clutches my shoulder and arches up into me, unabashedly seeking her own ravenous pleasure… and simultaneously feeding and satiating mine.
We both take and give and receive and, in the giving, receive and by all the ancestors I never knew—
I grasp her to me and thrust, spilling my seed deep inside her.
But it is not enough, not nearly enough. My ballsack is only half empty. I immediately pull out, reach down, and then fill her with my second shaft.
The moment I do she spasms around me, coming yet again.
“More,” she cries, writhing around my fresh cock, and I continue, experiencing the pleasure fresh and anew and praising the gods of this earth for giving me such a female.
Especially when she urges us to flip over. I am confused, thinking she means for us to stop.
But once I am on my back, she climbs on top of me, impaling herself on my shaft in such a manner that she is bouncing on me, her teats on magnificent display. Her hips grind up and down as we fuck, as she rides me to get the best friction for herself. She grasps at my stomach without inhibition. Having complete access to her mind when we are connected like this, I can feel she has genuinely no aversion to my strange half-transformed body.
I seek out her little nub of flesh with my thumb as she rides me and she clenches, spasming around my cock buried so deep inside her. My stomach muscles tense and flex.
My mate is magnificent, spectacular as she gives herself over to me. I have never felt anything like her. I am overwhelmed by her pleasure as she ratchets higher. I feel through her eyes as she looks down at me with ravenous desire. As I see and feel myself through her eyes and senses.
It is too much. She is too much. Her bouncing teats, her lush, soft body. How am I meant to—
I jackknife up, and pull her chest to mine, devouring her mouth.
Our bodies cement together in all ways, and I can no longer tell where mine ends and hers begins.
When I explode and spill my seed inside her, we both spiral into an explosion of pleasure, my climax sparking hers and then resounding back into mine in a feedback loop so intense we are both still shuddering long minutes later.
And when I collapse back into the mattress and pull her with me, unwilling to let go of her from my grasp, she makes no move to pull away either.
Weakly, she grasps the sheet and pulls it over us, but makes no other move. She lays, her body covering mine, a second skin. Just in case she is thinking of moving, I wrap a strong arm around her to keep her in place.
Then and only then do I close my eyes, hit by an exhaustion unlike any I have known before, and I sleep.
Sixteen
GISELLE
Oh shit. I had sex with First.
What was I thinking?
But then I remember being wrapped up in him—not difficult considering I’m still wrapped up in his huge, warm body.
But still! Seriously, what the hell was I thinking? I don’t even like him! So why the hell would I sleep with him?
Especially considering the potential consequences!
This is not who I am. I’m not the kind of woman who does crazy things and takes chances like this.
No, I always do the expected, safe thing. I went to college just like my mom and step-dad expected. I always dated the good-looking corporate types. Workaholics who wanted pretty arm candy but never had much time for me, and even when they did… well, they were sort of boring. When they weren’t being patronizing.
Oh my God, they were all men like my bio-dad.
