Page 45 of Saved By the Headless Horseman
“Again?You just had me.”
His cock kicks to life between them, and she rubs against it.Her mewls of pleasure spur him on, holding her tighter to him.
“I’ll never have enough.”The words are growled against her lips.“I could spend every day buried inside you, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
She pulls up, the fog spreading behind her like wings.It curls heavily around her glorious breasts.Her nipples are begging for his tongue.She mewls, rubbing her cunt against his seeking hardness.She feels solid—permanent.
“You and that filthy mouth,” she sighs.“Put it to use, Krane.”
Their mouths come together in a searing kiss.In one fluid motion, he rolls her beneath him.The fog envelopes her, making her glow like the moon.His moon, forever.
He spares her nipples a few licks before descending towards her center.The smooth skin of her thighs grazes along his pumpkin.Hooking her legs over his shoulders, he pushes her back and exposes her pink flesh to his gaze.Her greedy clit begs for his attention.Her tight cunt begs him to fill it.
The first taste of her jolts a torrent of seed from his cock.It coats the inside of his trousers, making them sticky.He pays it no mind, only delights in her sweet, musky flavor.Scarlett arches her back, thrusting her tits towards the sky.His hand reaches up to palm one of her breasts as the other spears inside her entrance.
Wet heat envelopes his hand as he pumps two fingers into her.He feels her begin to clench down on him, and his lips latch onto her clit.She screams her release, bucking wildly against him as he licks up her spend.Without hesitation, he shucks his trousers and enters her with one harsh thrust.
He captures her groan in his mouth.Whatever final kindness is allowing him to have her this way, he will not question.Perhaps they both died in her father’s dungeon, and this is what death is.He would be grateful for it.He needs nothing beyond her.Ever.
“Faster, my love.Claim me.”
Her mewls of pleasure spur him on.Pulling himself from her wetness, he deftly flips her onto her front.She moans as he smacks the pale globe of her ass and watches the color bloom on her fair skin.Taking hold of her hips, he reenters her quickly.A pounding rhythm is set as her fingers dig into the ground below them.
Scarlett begins to tighten on him.The delicate muscles of her pussy clench down on his thrusting cock.It hardens inside her, and he needs more.Pulling her back, he fits her snuggly to her lap and powers into her from below.Her breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts.
His hand cups her throat, feeling every whimper against his palm.
“I’m close,” she says, teeth sinking into her lip.“I wish we could stay like this forever.”
He pounds into her with a punishing rhythm.
“We can,” he vows.“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
Scarlett gasps as his hand finds her clit.He works it as she rises and falls in his lap.Her tight pussy grips him like a fist.Inside of her is blissful torture—the edge between heaven and hell.
“You can save me, Krane,” she moans.“Relinquish the rage—the revenge.Give in to your love for me.I will be yours again just as you are mine.”
She sinks down on him with finality.Her words ring in his head as she comes with a cry of his name.Bliss erupts within him, and he thrusts deep inside her, emptying himself with a vow.
“I give it all back.My need for revenge has been satisfied.Nothing matters if I don’t have you, my moon.Take whatever you need from me to repair yourself.Every part of me has always been yours from the moment we met.”
She looks at him, tears shining in her eyes.Fog rolls in, blanketing everything, and then she is gone as if she had never been there at all.
23
SCARLETT
The first thing I see is the overlapping branches above me.
Then I feel it.The rise and fall of my chest, my blood-soaked gown sticking to my skin.I feel along my abdomen, but there is no hole.Nothing but unblemished skin greets my fingers.I gasp, sitting up, and something heavy slips off my side.
A disgruntled groan follows.
I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.Floppy, reddish-brown hair falls heavily over his smooth brow.His tan skin is pink and freckled.It can’t be—how?
“Krane,” I gasp.
His only response is to moan, throwing an arm over his eyes.No longer holes in a pumpkin, his large eyes and full mouth sit proportionate on his face.The sharpness of his jaw is covered by a short beard beginning to grow.
