Page 25 of Mischief Maker
“It might not feel good at first,” he says, pausing to run his hands up and down my hips, over my belly to my pelvis, tangling his fingers in the hair there. “But I promise it will.”
The moment that wide, soft head finds me, there’s suddenly a pressure up against my small slit. I know what he means now. And yet I’m so wet, so slippery, that the tip of his cock manages to fit through, stretching me almost to the point I think I might break. It’s uncomfortable and tense, like he warned me, and yet still so erotic.
“Kireth...”
His name falls from my lips, and he gets a sinful smile. He pauses his invasion and instead, draws back, tracing my edges with the head of his cock and urging my tight opening to soften for him. Then he tries again, demanding I allow him through. My body is weeping, lathering him up, and this time, he slips inside. My muscles tense as I open wide for him, and it burns in a new, shocking way.
“Breathe,” my god tells me, dropping onto his elbows so he can be closer to my face. He kisses both my cheeks, and then my mouth, just stroking that malleable, sweet cockhead in and out until I’m bucking under him. Every pass triggers a burst of color behind my eyes, even as it aches. That familiar sweet tenseness builds in my abdomen, and I wonder if I might simply blow apart.
Then his cock slides further in, spreading me even more, and I gasp as my channel swallows him. There’s a wire-tight tension between my legs as he gently slips deeper and deeper with each small thrust of his hips. It hurts, stretched as wide as I am, but somehow it’s wonderful, too.
“There we are, my girl,” Kireth croons, pushing my hair away from my sweat-slicked forehead. “Swallow me up.”
And I do. Every bone in my body is begging for more and he gives it to me, sliding all the way in at last. I cringe as the tightness becomes almost unbearable. Kireth stops and exhales a long, relieved breath.
“There we are.” He drops his forehead to mine, framing my face with his hands. He kisses me, again and again, until I sense my muscles starting to relax. That terrible tightness fades, and soon all I want is for his perfect, satisfying cock to do more. I don’t know what it is exactly that I desire, but I need it—now.
Slowly, Kireth withdraws, and immediately I’m begging to be filled again. I don’t realize that I’m whimpering until he buries himself inside me, cutting me off. It’s tight and uncomfortable and yet so delicious that I need him to keep going. It’s as if my need is speaking directly to him, because he repeats the motion, filling and withdrawing, sliding easily through my wetness.
I moan his name, wrapping my arms around him, tugging him closer to me, desiring only his body against mine. He chuckles and presses his face into my hair as he strokes in and out, his chest weighing me down, and the discomfort fades into a blistering pleasure.
Somewhere deep inside me, that same sweet sensation is swelling upward, and each time he thrusts, it stacks higher and higher, like a steep set of stairs leading me toward an unknown destination. I wrap my legs around his waist to draw him in even further, if that were possible, as my hips rise to meet each of his movements. My nose is buried in his neck, inhaling his warm smell.
“Fuck,” Kireth whispers, his arms curling around me. “You feel wonderful, Faela. Like stars and sugar.”
I’m pleased to know that he, too, feels this unimaginable wonder, and he picks up his speed, plunging in and out while the steps appear quicker and quicker in front of me. Soon I’m running up them, crying out as he digs even deeper. His cock’s soft head brushes past something inside me that sends a lightning bolt across my body, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I can barely stand it, as if I might simply explode underneath him.
“Let it take you,” he says into my ear. “Give in to me, and to your pleasure.”
I obey. My body squeezes so tight it’s almost painful, and now I’m at the very top of the stairs, ready to careen over the edge. That’s when everything releases at once.
I’m blinded by it, deafened by it, completely overtaken by it. I hear Kireth groan as he pushes through my powerful clenching, slamming into me over and over, and my whole body rocks with the force of my rapture.
“Kireth!” My voice is broken and ragged. He shoves inside me one last time, as deep as he can get, and his cock swells up thick and fat. I’m crying now, clutching him as close as I can as he draws out this indescribable joy. Then he bursts, and hot liquid shoots against my deepest, most sensitive place.
I crumble and melt into nothing.
Kireth nearly collapses on top of me, holding himself up with one hand as I shake like a leaf underneath him. He kisses me deeply and fully. I’ve seen him, the real him, and it is a vision like none other. I’ve found something beautiful, something priceless, and I clutch him as close to me as I can.
Chapter Ten
Kireth
My Faela. So tight and warm and wonderful. Every one of her little mewls, her moans and her cries, has refilled a reservoir in me that I thought was empty. I bring her as close to me as I can, reveling in her scent, in the soft clench of her body, in the way her eyelashes flutter closed as she basks in the warm glow of our pleasure.
I have lain with many mortals, and even other immortals, but nothing compares to this. I never want to leave her side again.
The force with which this desire hits me is catastrophic. Forty. That is all I have left with my sweet, perfect farm girl. I do not get to have her forever. Never before has the weight of my immortality, of my obligation, settled so heavy and claustrophobic on my shoulders.
I stay inside her as long as I can, simply reveling in our togetherness. What has this woman done to me? I want to be joined to her this way for eternity, sunk in her flawless depths.
“Kireth?” her tiny voice says, and I relish the way she says my name.
I stroke her hair, which is still wet from the river. “Yes, sweet girl?”
“That was amazing.” She nuzzles deeper into the hollow of my throat. “Whatever we just did, I won’t forget it as long as I live.”
I can hear the words she isn’t saying. She knows I will have to leave, too. Even then, she doesn’t regret it. I hope she will still feel the same way when I’m gone. Perhaps she will find a husband or wife of her own, and give them the impossible, heady pleasure she gave me.
