Page 108 of Veiled Flames
I can’t wait. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be inside a woman so fiercely. My mind and my heart still want me to be tender with Rosomon, to worship her body as I give us both pleasure, but my cock has other ideas.
My cock is on board with Rosomon’s plan, and I try to summon the anger I felt when she bested me at the gauntlet, or when I discovered her identity. Anger that almost instantly shifted to admiration, once I realized the courage and cunning it took to escape her fate.
But, to give her what she wants—what shethinksshe wants—I must find at least some anger to drive me now.
I can play act.
Grabbing all the cushions from the head of her bed, I shove them under her hips, lifting and exposing her sex more fully and destabilizing her posture. Bracing my knees against her dangling legs, I spread them even wider, as I release my hard cock.
Then, without warning, I drive into her tight cunny, forcing her to swallow more than half my length on the first pass.
She cries out.
I pause, panting. I hurt her. I went in too deep.
But she feels so good. I’m losing my mind. I slide my hands over the still pinked skin on her ass, then over her hips and lower back. Her skin is like velvet, so soft—and yet the contact shoots sparks from my hands to land straight in my stones.
Craving more skin, I push up her chemise and discover a corset. She’s used it to disguise her bosom. Clever girl. I long to remove it, to expose more of her skin, to release her paps so I can touch and suckle them, but the infernal garment is fastened in front.
I have no time for that.
“Why did you stop?” she asks angrily.
Her pelvis tips back as if trying to pull more of me inside her pulsing cunt. She’s so wet and ready, but her channel is tight and gripping me so firmly I doubt I can go any deeper.
My cock is longer than most men’s, but I know how to work the portion that fits inside wenches. If Rosomon wants to be fucked, then that’s what she’ll get.
Grasping the tops of her hips, I brace her body as I pull out slightly, and then I drive forward again. Fiercely.
She moans, and the sweet sound urges me on. I repeat the same motion, over and over, the pleasure threatening to overtake my mind and make me forget all my caution. As I thrust with a slow strong rhythm, the trainer rubs against me—a firmness inside her softness—and I can’t begin to imagine how it must feel forher. How it feels to be so full, two holes penetrated at the same time. I want to ask her.
She looks over her shoulder. “Is that all you’ve got? I thought youhatedme. I thought you wanted to punish me.” Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t think you so weak.”
Fury explodes.I am not weak!How dare she! No one gets away with calling me weak.Closing my eyes, I see nothing but red.
Tightly gripping her body, I drive into her hard and fast, no longer trying to control my depth or my force. Over and over the head of my cock crushes against the end of her channel, and her pelvis vibrates in response. I could be hurting her. I don’t care. She will pay for calling me weak.
I drive relentlessly, blinded by rage and shame, fueled by memories of punishments that came every time I showed any form of weakness—any hint of kindness—wanting to cause her the type of pain I was forced to endure.
But as I continue to brutally penetrate her, my rage is overcome by pleasure, and some of my sanity returns.
I’m in her deeper than I imagined possible, and yet she’s moaning, making love sounds to punctuate the slap of my body each time it slams against hers—over and over and over. Few wenches have been able to house my full length.
Already having the fuck of my life, I imagine how much better this would feel if I can make her climax while I’m inside her. How good it will feel for her too.
Slipping one hand between her and the pillows, I find her nub.
The moment I make contact, she cries out. Her body thrashes, but she’s fully under my control. Her tiny body’s no match formy superior strength, nor my height and weight. And without leverage, she has no way to fight the power of my stabbing cock.
Her legs remain dangling, spread and trapped open, even as she fights to pull them together, and my forearm is braced over her back, holding her down against the mattress as I drive into her, all while flicking her hard nub.
“Oh, ah. Yes.” Her voice is strained and high pitched, and her body squeezes around me. She’s so tight it’s hard to keep thrusting. And then wave after wave of ferocious contractions compresses my still driving cock as she reaches her climax.
The pleasure is profound. I can no longer see, can no longer hear anything beyond the wet sounds of her cunt and the smack of my stones as they strike her soft flesh, over and over and over.
After what feels like a lifetime of pleasure for us both, her internal contractions slow and become more erratic.
“Oh, Tynan,” she says on a heavy exhale.
