Page 41 of Vicar
“I can’t...” she gasped, “take this...much longer...please.”
He wrapped his hands over hers against the wall and ground into her, the friction of their lovemaking unbearable, before he thrust one last time, roared, and locked up. She whimpered at the feel of him throbbing deep inside her. At the sensation of his pulsing hot, liquid heat.
“Now, little dragon,” he murmured in her ear. “Let me feel you let go.”
Just like that, her body obeyed, and the floodgates opened. And opened. And opened even more. She might have purred, groaned, or screamed. She had no idea. All she knew was everything let go. Exploded from the inside out. Her body convulsed in a delicious mix of pain from muscles tightening then extraordinary pleasure when everything expanded with hot sinful pleasure. Pleasure that began as colorful and loving before it became red and fiery.
Angry in its rampant need for more lust.
Less love.
More violence.
“Ohno,” she tried to say, but it was too late.
Her Múspellsheimr side got the upper hand, and everything fell away.
