Chapter 22
The moment he connects with my body, he halts, allowing me to adjust to the size, the shape, and texture of him inside me. My inner walls quiver, spasms and convulsions pulsate up and through the center of me.
When they have finally settled and the first rush of euphoria passes, Wake pulls back, and thrusts into my slick, yielding sex again, harder than before, growling through his teeth.
He is not gentle. The rhythm and intensity of his thrusting are unrestrained and punishing. Each movement draws a tortured moan from my chest and then sends me lunging forward. In order to stay in a position so readily available, Wake reaches under, grasping me around the ribs, as he rocks himself in and
out.
To an onlooker, I must appear to be fighting him. Clawing for purchase against the glass beneath my knees. Fighting for air through my ragged sobs and screaming pleas. But in truth I am meeting his demands, lifting my hips to meet him with equal ferocity.
He uses one clawed hand to grab a handful of my hair, forcing me to meet the punishing rhythm of his hips as I plead and beg. “More. Deeper. Oh God…”
All the while the winding ridges lining his dick grab hold of the delicate, receptive tissue inside of me, relentlessly massaging my pussy walls. And just like that, I come again, gripping him even tighter, pulling him deeper, and crying out into the open air.
1
As I do, Wake begins to sing, and I feel myself begin to slip away. 2
Chapter Comments
Melonie Davis
