Page 106 of Stoker's Serenity

Problem was, at least I thought so, I wanted the accelerant. I whimpered as he kept me just on that edge without letting me take that shining fall, the pleasure building and building until I seriously began to panic in wonder if I could take anymore.

“Stoker!” I gasped, and he grunted as his only answer, but I knew that grunt. He might as well have said aloud, ‘Wait for it…’ and I didn’t know if I could.

“Stoker!” Again I gasped my lover’s name, a half-warning that I was so very close and a half-plea for him to please, please let me have it, to please finish me! To catch me as I fell among the stars that he’d catapulted me expertly into.

He might as well have hung the moon for me, with how much I loved him, how much my body sang his praises as he teased me with the very tip of his tongue. I writhed as much as our position would let me while keeping me secure, and with a cry that bordered on victorious, I came, nipples tightening, sparks flying along every nerve ending, the dam that’d been holding me back breaking and a flood of warmth and the golden glow of orgasm sweeping through me, pouring out from my middle in wave after wave until I felt all used up. I leaned against the wall panting, still somehow unfulfilled, even after all of that, aching to have him inside of me.

“God, please tell me you’re ready to go,” I gasped. “I need you inside me.”

“Let me grab a condom,” he said, helping me shakily off his shoulders and to my feet, not letting go until he was sure my legs could hold me.

“No, now,” I gasped, trembling.

“What if you get pregnant?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t care,” I said, surprised to find that I meant it. “I mean, would it be so bad?”

“You want kids, now? With me?” he asked, and there was a weight behind his words, a hopeful anticipation.

“I mean, if it happens – but yes, I want children at some point, with you…”

“Fucking bend over,” he ordered, and turned me around, shoving me forward at the hips, pressing my hands flat against the shower wall and rising like a leviathan behind me. He was as hard as I’d ever seen him, his cock fully engorged, bobbing thickly between his legs. I only caught a glimpse of it, of him, that way but a glimpse was enough. The memory seared into my mind even as my pussy throbbed like it was giving a glad little cry, knowing that it would soon be filled.

He pressed into me and groaned, shoving into my body, the hot, slick folds of my twat welcoming him, gripping him, my body pulling him deeper into me even as I thrust my hips back to meet him. My fingertips mottled white against the faux-marble shower wall in front of me as I braced my trembling arms, so many endorphins rushing through my blood I didn’t even think about how sore I might be later from this. Right now, my back and shoulders were fine, as he ran himself in and out of my pussy, adjusting his hips, looking for that perfect angle that would make me yowl like a cat in heat.

He found it, of course, and I definitely wailed, and he took that as an invitation to really fuck me, which I loved. We didn’t stop, we didn’t even slow down, even when someone knocked on the door, a masculine voice cursing and boot treads retreating as Stoker expertly worked his way in and out of my body.

The sensations were intense, made even more intense, insanely intense, when he gripped my shoulders and plowed forward into me, bottoming out against my cervix in a delicious shock of pleasure wrought into a work of art turned pain, an exquisite feeling that I generally had to be in the mood for and I was right there, in that perfect headspace, ready for him to dish out whatever he wanted and to accept it as holy writ. My body was practically levitating, the sex so good it was almost an out-of-body experience as he fought and won to bring me to orgasm again.

He pulled me into a standing position as I came, still deep inside of me, holding me back against his body, my feet not touching the slick tub floor, holding me steady, holding me tight, and I loved that, giving myself over purely to the bliss flickering through my veins and along my limbs as I trembled like a newborn deer calf.

He slipped out of me, reluctantly, and he was still hard. Setting me down gently, he turned me, and I looked up at him, still a bit dazed, and asked, “Did you come?”

“No,” he shook his head with a shy grin. “Held off.”

“Can’t have that,” I murmured and slipped to my knees to finish him with my mouth, rinsing him with my hand and the shower spray, I could still faintly taste myself and that was okay. I didn’t care.

All I cared about was pleasuring him as he had pleasured me, until the end of time.

Taking care of each other, from now until we grew old; I wanted that so much, needed it like a plant needed the sun, good soil, and enough water to thrive. That’s what I wanted us to do. I wanted us to both be healthy, to both thrive, so that when we did bring children into this world, we could give them a better life than we had growing up.

“Oh, Orchid, don’t stop,” he breathed, and I looked up at him, as he leaned one shoulder into the shower wall and gazed down the length of his chiseled body at me. God, he was beautiful; it was another sight forever burned into my brain.

God, I loved him. I would love him until the end of time, no matter what, if he would let me.

Epilogue

Stoker…

“You ready for this?” Pyro asked, flicking his cigarette out into the street off the curb.

“Oh, I’ve beenready,” I declared.

“Sweet,” Atlas grunted.

“Let’s fuckin’ do it!” Lightning grinned a little too enthusiastically, like he pretty much did every time he was about to strike.

“Wait until he gets a little further out, into the parking lot. No cameras and it’s dark as fuck, should give us plenty of cover.”

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