Page 81 of Cruel Delights


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Her breasts bounce along with me and my deep strokes. Neither the dark room nor her sleep shirt hide their shape or softness. My palm slides over them and I give them an appreciative squeeze. Her nipple a light twist.

She squirms and her head tips. Her lips part and a breathy noise leaves her.

I concentrate on her face, watching it for any sign of recognition.

The faintest, smallest sign she’s waking up. I haven’t the slightest idea what the hell I’d do if she did—what I’d even say, or how I could possibly explain what’s happening.

Only that I needed to be inside her. I needed to experience her.

Her pussy agrees. I’m drowning in her slick wetness and the mess we’re making. My dick sinks deep and her tight walls close in. Our parts fit perfectly together, our bodies working in perfect harmony to achieve a shared goal.

Even if it’s one Lyra doesn’t consciously realize she wants in this moment.

She moans and I sweep my arms under her thighs. I come in closer, our pelvises aligned. I’ve bottomed out inside her, gone as deep into her as I can go, and her pussy rewards me with another tight squeeze.

The pleasure’s rising. It’s building upon itself. It expands throughout my body until I’m a careless animal rutting away. A beast seeking release in the most primal, dominant way imaginable—in the suffocating clench of a warm, wet hole.

I’m teetering on the edge. I’mfallingover the edge. Warmth envelopes me whole and my balls tingle and tighten.

At the last possible moment, I wrench myself free of Lyra, and then stroke myself to completion. My fist jerks up and down my cock in aggressive motions until I’m spilling on her mons pubis and open thighs.

As close to coming inside her as I can allow myself.

It’s too risky to do so; I’d leave a mess I couldn’t guarantee I’d be able to clean.

My ears buzz for seconds after. I’m heaving more rapid breaths into my lungs. I’m dripping sweat, and my heavy-lidded, almost drunken gaze rakes over Lyra and her limp body.

Still so asleep. Yet even more beautiful than before now that she’s covered in my cum. On another beat of greed and recklessness, I bend forward and kiss her on the mouth.

Much harder this time.

Though she doesn’t kiss me in return, the sweet taste of her lips makes it worth it.

I spend the next twenty minutes covering my tracks. Cleaning Lyra up. Putting her panties on. Fixing her sheets. Caressing her cheek and wishing her good night.

I almost decide to return to the closet, where I’ll be able to watch her sleep some more.

In the wake of my orgasm, a sliver of logic has returned, and begs me to go. I’ve taken enough chances for one night.

If I head home, I’ll still be able to catch two or three hours of sleep before it’s time to turn up at the practice. Though it’s tempting to call in and let Horschman and the rest of the staff handle everything yet again.

I emerge from the narrow alley between Lyra’s warehouse apartment complex and the squat building next-door. My car’s parked across the street. I make it to the sidewalk and then stop short when I realize I won’t be driving myself home.

A limo is waiting for me. The rear door swings open and the Owner speaks from his cushy seat in the back.

“Get in.”

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“Since it seems I have little choice.”

I oblige the Owner’s request and slide into the back of the limo. The driver up front presses the gas and we sail down the otherwise empty street.

We ride in silence like this.

The limo journeys from the terrible borough where Lyra lives to better, less crime-riddled parts of Easton.

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