Page 18 of Those That Don't Exist
My cock twitches and my hand automatically reaches down to adjust myself. The touch makes it fill more as my brain supplies more of the scene I wish had played out.
I raise an eyebrow at her, and let a smirk catch my lips, causing her to almost stumble. Her anger rises further. She stops talking, waiting for me to answer.
I push off the wall with my bent leg and take a step towards her. She steps back as if just noticing how close she’s got to me in her rant. How alone we are down this alley, out of sight.
“So what if I am?” I answer her with a question, wanting to see how far I can push her. She’s stunning like this, chest puffed out and hands on her hips. She’s keeping up the bravado well, despite that step back. She’s unwilling to admit she’s the prey and I’m the predator, even though her body will be screaming at her to run. I step closer to close the distance between us.
She backs away, again.
I’m now unabashedly stroking my aching cock over my jeans. Fuck it feels good.
“Answer me dammit.” She finds her voice again. “I’ve seen you around for weeks, and whenever I try to approach, you run. Who are you?”
“You sure you want the answer?”
“Yes.” She flings her hands up in what I think is exasperation, confidence renewed. The red hot anger returning as emerald flames in her eyes.
I pounce. Grabbing both her wrists in my hands, I slam her back into the opposite wall using my hips to pin her body as I bring her hands above her head.
“I am something that only exists in myths,” I taunt her, whispering it low next to her ear.
She is such a complex creature. There is fear in her eyes but the anger is still vibrant too. I can practically see hermind working, processing everywhere we’re touching, trying to figure out how she can flip the tables.
In my bed my breath is hitching, my cock throbbing almost painfully now, a bead of precum leaking from the tip and into my boxers. I open the button and fly on my jeans, shoving them down to my thighs, along with my boxers, to take myself fully in hand.
In my mind she moves fast, but not fast enough. She tries to pull a knee up to bust my balls at the same time as swinging her head forward to head butt me. I, with my supernatural reflexes, simply turn my pelvis, so her knee contacts my thigh before I use my leg to push between hers, unstabilizing her on her remaining standing leg, forcing her to put the other back down. I almost don't move my head in time but luckily she doesn't make contact, the movement only enveloping me with more of her beautiful scent.
“Nice try, Red,” I goad her, swiping my nose up her neck as she rests her head back against the wall. She stops struggling then.
“What are you doing?” she asks breathily.
“Can’t you feel it?” I whisper into her neck, my lips brushing where her collarbone meets her throat.
“You can’t deny the way you’ve looked at me when you’ve caught me stalking you.”
My fangs descend at the proximity of her artery.
“I was hoping for a conversation, maybe a date.” I feel her swallow as I continue to explore her neck.
“I can’t give you that. I shouldn’t be giving you this.”
I move both her wrists into my left hand, freeing the other to slowly brush my fingers down her arm. I run them all the way down her side, over her clothes, until my hand comes to rest on her hip. There's a small gap between her jumper and jeans,my thumb finds naked skin. She’s so soft, so delicate, under my touch, although I bet she is anything but.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” I lift my gaze to hers so she can see my sincerity. I wouldn't force myself on her, even in my fantasies.
“Don't stop,” she whispers as she grinds her hips against my thigh that’s still between her legs. Fucking hell.
I press forward, closing every inch between our bodies. My lips crash to hers and instantly she opens to me. I waste no time in entangling our tongues or pushing my hips into her so she can feel just how much I want her. I’m rewarded with a groan from her, it travels straight from her throat and into mine. As I swallow I swear it runs straight to my dick.
That's all it takes. I’m coming, firing cum all over the t-shirt I hadn't bothered to remove. My hand slows, prolonging the ebb of my orgasm.
My breathing comes in laboured breaths as I steadily recover.Fucking hell. That might’ve been the hardest I’ve come in years, and it was to a fantasy.
I lie there for a few minutes before common sense prevails, I need to get cleaned up. I do share this room with Mitch afterall and I’d never hear the end of it if he caught me post wank.
I peel the t-shirt off, sinking it into the plastic box we call the laundry bin, as I head into the ensuite to wash. I move by muscle memory as I clean up, my brain trying to process what my imagination has just thrown at me. I knew I was getting attached to Aurora, but I thought it was just feeling empathy towards her, wanting to protect her from any more shit. She’s been through enough.
Turns out my intentions are possibly just as nefarious.
