Page 121 of Feed Your Fiends

“We can just pretend,” I whimper.

“I’m good at pretending.”

I freeze at that, but then he grabs my ankles and drapes each of my legs over his shoulders. It’s my turn to be frozen by the view as he slowly leans forward. He’s breathtaking, carved in shadows by the dim lighting as his wavy hair falls into those soulless pits.

My feet, tucked behind his head, are visibly healed but still scarred as his veined hands clutch my ankles as he uses my legs as a lever. The closer his lips inch to mine, the deeper he sinks into me, stretching me painfully and deliciously, centimetre by centimetre.

The light searing as his balls hit my ass and his tongue slides over my lips, makes me gasp, moan, and squirm beneath him, but he doesn’t let up. He drives his hips harder against mine, settling so much of his weight deep inside of me that it feels like he’s penetrated my soul.

“Gant,” I pant, trying to take one of my legs off his shoulders, but he only slips his hands from my ankles to my toes, pushing them into the leather above my head. It burns, stretching parts of me I didn’t know were possible.

“So deep,” he rasps.

“It hurts.” In the best and worst way.

He slides midway out of me, but the relief of his alleviating pressure disappears as he drives forward.

“Ohhh!”

“Good.Only I can reach this far into your soul,” he says, sinking into me again and again until our noses brush. Until he’s forced my legs so flat that he can pin his cock deep enough to kiss me. Not chase little butterfly kisses, but deep kisses as he grips the back of my neck and tangles his tongue against mine despite my cries for him to stop. And my cries for him to come back the second he slips away from me again.

“That’s it, dove,” he says, his eyes rolling midway to the ceiling. “Choke my cock. Pull me deeper.”

My walls flutter around him, gripping him tight and playing into that pleasure riding on pain. But then a slick release as he grinds against my clit eases the friction.

I know he feels the rush as he finally lets my legs go. Using my neck, he shoves me forward so that I’m halfway between the front seats, my nipples grazing the console. He pulls my hair, forcing my head back so that I look at him in the rearview mirror as he slides behind me.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” he says, sinking my back and forcing me into an extreme arch before curling his arm around me to stroke my clit. “I want to see you come alive. I want to see your tits dance and hear you moan so hard you can’t keep your spit in your mouth and the slick in your slit.”

Gant

Searing heat squeezes my cock like a vice as I slam into my pussy, as I penetrate that wall of stone she’s surrounded her heart with.

I've never had a prettier view. Between the windscreen and the rearview mirror, I can watch her face contort in pain and pleasure and see her heavy tits shake with each thrust. I can see her greedy cunt sucking in each centimetre, and I can feel her grip tighten every time I drag my cock away.

I watch those pretty emeralds climb to the ceiling every time my head pounds the deepest part of her. Her lips are so wet as she tries to shut her mouth and ease her moans, but she can’t and soon her chin’s growing wetter too.

She attempts to wipe it off, but I tug her hair hard, pulling her head back and making her spine arch enough so that she can kiss me. So that I can feel all that wetness on my tongue while my cock soaks in what’s dripping from her cunt.

So slippery.Just the sloppy, slapping noise of it all is enough to make my balls tighten almost painfully. They slap her clit with a wet smack once, twice, and then her walls clamp down on me so tight, they force me to erupt.

She groans into my mouth, and I clutch her throat to feel the vibrations of her moan as she milks me. As the tempo of those wet smacking noises reaches a crescendo and her body snaps, tremors racking her so hard and fast that she can’t keep herself up any more. She crumbles forward, and I snake my hand beneath her tits and drag her backward so that her back smacks my chest, and I can watch her convulse on my cock in the mirror. I can watch that ethereal white drip out of her pussy as I hook her legs over mine, spreading them wide so I can see the mess coating my balls and the seat.

I pin her in place, forcing her to ride me until the very last wave racks her and all that’s left are gentle erratic aftershocks in her pussy.

“Look,” I say, using her chin to guide her face to the mirror. She’s so fucking beautiful, the prettiest shade of pink tinting her skin as she watches us through half-hooded eyes. “You did it. You came alive in my arms again.”

She smiles sleepily. “You did it too.”

I take in the seats. The glass. But there is no blood. No death rattle.

Still, it doesn’t mean I want to stay in here any longer, no matter how much prettier this white mess is to the red.

Elle seems to silently understand this, because she opens the back door before sliding off my cock with a wince. She doesn’t make it two steps before I shut the car door and scoop her into my arms, so her sticky pussy is kissing my pubic bone.

“Baby steps,” I say, kissing her as we get onto the lift. We travel past three floors before I break away to peer into her eyes. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You can get in the car without me, Gant. Just stay in the present.”

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