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Shayde’s touch is gentle against my cheek, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and determination. We speak little, for words are unnecessary between us. Instead, we communicate through the language of touch. Our bodies intertwine, bringing peace and reassurance in the face of the harsh realities we have faced.
As the night deepens, we find relief in the simple pleasures—a shared meal, laughter, and whispers of a promise in a future yet to be realized. Our love is a sanctuary, a respite from the turmoil that surrounds us. Together, we find the strength to face the challenges that lie ahead.
The shadows continue to move across the ground and our bodies, mirroring the dance of emotions within our hearts. In this intimate corner of the world, we are safe, nurtured by the unwavering bond we share.
Tomorrow, we will awaken to a world still tainted by the remnants of a battle fought, but for now, we revel in the serenity of this stolen moment. We draw strength from each other, knowing that together we can navigate any storm that may come our way.
Shayde’s hands glide with expert precision under my clothing, his calloused palms graze across my soft skin. He removes my top and flings it behind him, giving zero fucks where it might land.
I almost giggle… almost.
He growls, catching the humor that almost broke me. “Woman, you have too much on your body still.”
“As do you,” I inform him. “But you don’t see me flinging your garments about. Let’s hope they don’t land in the waters.”
“Right,” he breathes against my neck. “Forsake any mer-creature from taking your clothing.”
“Shut up,” I tease.
He chuckles next to my ear, his breath fans across my skin, causing a shiver to rush through my body. “Get your clothes off,” he orders.
Shayde stands and quickly strips off his shirt.
I stare at his bare chest and grin, not wanting to move or blink.
“Woman,” he warns.
I smile even wider. “Okay, fine,” I pout. “But I was enjoying watching you. Maybe next time you’ll strip to music for me.”
He lets out a guffaw. “Not a chance.” Shayde unfastens his pants and pushes them down his legs and removes the garment with his shoes. As he rights himself, his cock, thorns and all, is rigid with a drop of precum on the tip.
It takes every bit of my energy to not sit on my knees and beg to lick him. I kick off my pants like I’m trying to kick off wet leggings.
Shayde grabs the hem and yanks. Like the former, he tosses the pants over his shoulder.
I shake my head. “Maybe there’s a bear behind you who needs pants and you just offered mine up.”
“Then I shall meet this bear and make sure he has porridge as well,” he teases. “Now lay back and…” He stops mid-sentence when I spread my legs open for him.
I lick my first two fingers and bring them down, then guide them against my clit. My hips buck slightly when I press down in a circular motion.
“Holy fuck, woman,” Shayde whispers. He sits on his knees and pushes my legs further apart. He watches me for a bit and I nibble on my lip.
I grin and nod my head toward his cock. “Stroke yourself.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll explode too soon if I do that. Give me your fingers.” He takes my hand and bringing my digits to his mouth, he sucks the juices off with a groan. “Fuck yes,” he whispers. He lets go of me and places a hand on either side of my body. He swipes his tongue across my stomach, up to my left breast until he reaches my nipple. He swirls around the pebbled flesh, then flicks it a few times before doing the same to the other.
He feathers his lips up to my neck and in doing so, presses his monstrous cock against the apex of my body. He begins to grind, rubbing the thorns of his dick against the flesh of my pussy. The touch of him is like soft rubber coated with lubricant. It feels amazing, almost like riding a sex toy, but heismy sex toy.
I growl. “Stop mind-fucking me and justfuckme!”
He lets a soft, sinister whisper of a laugh escape next to my ear. “Only if you beg.”
I maneuver my head around until our lips meet. The kiss is hot, our breaths are frantic, and I bite his bottom lip.
He snarls and tries to pull back, but I hold onto him a moment longer. When he opens his eyes and bores his gaze into my own, I let him go with a smirk. “Make me.”
The malevolent grin tells me he plans to make me beg, but not necessarily for him to fuck me. When you poke the beast, be prepared to deal with the consequences of those actions. All I say to that is, bring it on.
