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So full, then so empty, his retreat slithering out of me while I panted for air, my little sounds of fear twisting into low, breathy moans.
“You are doing so well.”
His spearhead popped through the little sucking,starvedmouth between my legs again, only this time my body did not allow his retreat. Something inside me closed hard around him, pulled at his cock in waving, undulating tugs, while I watched him stretch and strain my tiny opening so the bulk of his beastlythingcould be swallowed whole.
Girth firmly rooted, Cyderial did not withdraw again. Instead, those segments went to work within me, pushing against my tightened rings of muscle, teasing and stretching me as my insides began to match his dance and ripple around him.
It feltgood.
The sensation was much different than what his fingers and tongue provided hours ago. Aching fullness countered the sweet zings, wetness squishing out where I gripped him to coat his cock in shining slick.
Pulling out had me hissing until I realized it was only so he might thrust back in and give me more. My core would do all it might to refuse his retreat, Cyderial playing his game only to fight his way back in past so many spasming muscles. Yet my weeping slit was more than happy to coat his cock with abundant slick to aid his cause.
Even so, my legs trembled where they were parted by his hips, my pleasure twisted up by nerves.
“There is nothing that will ever compare to the feel of you. Every bit is perfection.” He groaned, hips shunting forward so once again he would be fully sheathed.
My internal clench magnified, massaged into submission by a jerking, hungry cock.
Within me, the segments began to thicken until I ached, then elongated so I might stretch. All the while, the tip of his cock searching out places to tease so my toes might curl, so my breathy pants might tell him just how good it all felt.
My hips began to rock as reason abandoned me. Yet he kept feeding me more pleasure than I could possibly handle.
It hurt beautifully, the growing torment almost as wonderful as the climax I had found on his tongue.
When my hands came to grip his shoulders, when talons pricked deep to anchor me to my mate, Cyderial began to fuck me in earnest. Long strokes of a member that thickened and stretched, that wriggled and dug deep.
Our breath united in cadence, my chest meekly echoing his deeper pulsating thumps.
It was so very different taking him without being drunk on male tricks. I wasthere. It wasmy handsscratching down his back so I might grip his ass and pull him deeper.My legsspreading inexorably wide so he might plunder where he willed.
Heat left my skin slippery with sweat, my insides on fire around his frenzied organ. When his lips finally came to mine, that wicked tongue daring to test if I’d bite, something far stronger than a flutter clenched up my insides.
Which set him wild.
Where he had been careful and measured in each thrust, he broke upon me with what a male could truly do to a female.
This frenzy, I had not known on the floor of his office.
This mania would end me in all ways.
Trilling, I arched my back andreceivedmy demise. Within my body, he began to grow—not his knot, for I had yet to climax. That thing of his curled around itself and pulverized muscles to find what my body kept secret and tease out my screams.
Pleasure caught flame within, burning the fever brighter when he left my open mouth to drag his tongue over my insanely sensitive nipples, stoking the fiery hurricane into a constricting mass of perfect hedonism that was about to go nuclear.
I burst into a wracking, heaving orgasm and sunk my teeth into the meat of his shoulder to hold back the cries.
The knot, the only thing that might improve an already perfect storm, bulged huge in my passage, releasing boiling waves of cum into my belly and fed my fully-formed addiction.
Every cell in my body wanted more, draining his cock with sucking ripples against that writhing shaft. Poor human women would never know how incredible this might feel, their sad males’ members unexciting.
“My God, Lorieyn.” Still groaning, he gushed another surge of fluid into my body. “You are perfect.”
I was nowhere near speaking, actively working him and greedy for every last drop. His liquid gift was necessary to my life, every last cell that made up my body screaming for more.
The driving need was so different than the climax he’d forced on me while he’d held me to his office floor. That had been mind-bending—this was life itself, dumping into my core.
Beginning to bulge as he gushed more fluid inside me, my stomach altered shape. And kept growing.
