KinDread - Lucian McCullough (feel good novels txt) 📗

leaned forward as he continued, first kissing him and then just resting her head on his shoulder, panting too hard to do anything else. He moved his digits faster and faster his thumb slipping inside the panties to rub directly over her clit, willing her closer to the edge. After all, she'd earned it. Just as he could feel her start to tense against him she pulled away, 

"Not yet Sir."

He waited for whatever she had in mind, thinking it must be good to make the delay worth it. He heard a bottle of lube being pumped, then some wet squelchy sounds and finally a very low pulsing buzz and a gasp of pleasure. He felt her straddle him again, this time she grabbed his cock, stroking the head along her wet pussy lips before lowering herself onto it. She felt hot, slick and tighter than normal, then he felt the first pulse through her. She had a buttplug in. He could feel it throbbing through the thin wall at the back of her pussy. She finally sat all the way down onto him, pressing herself into his lap and placing her hands on his shoulders for support. Her hips started a slow motion, grinding more than moving up and down. He realised what she was doing, she wanted her orgasm, but was doing her best to delay his. Her rhythm became more erratic, little shivers interrupting it. He felt one of her hands leave his shoulder and the plug started moving, the angle of it tilting so it pressed further against her, and therefore, him. She buried her face in his shoulder, starting to bite him through muffled whimpers.

Suddenly he felt something change, her entire core tensed, the walls of her pussy undulating against him. Her movements became jagged, tiny little thrusts back-and-forth as she rode the pleasure. He could feel her groaning into his shoulder as her teeth dug into his flesh. The hand on his shoulder curled into claws, nails driving in to try and keep a grip on him. She continued for what felt like an age to him, unable to actually see what was happening, multiple waves wracking her body until she collapsed onto him, limp. He could feel her hair against his throat as she rested her head against his chest. He leant forward slightly and rested his chin on her head, she snuggled in further, her arms wrapping around him. Her chest was heaving against him, attempting to get her breath back. Finally, her breathing slowed slightly and she slowly lifted her head, kissing him with her tongue exploring his mouth. He returned it hungrily, loving the taste of her lips. She pulled away and whispered into his ear,

"Your turn, Sir."

She lifted herself off of him, her pussy unwillingly releasing his cock from its warm grasp. She knelt , running her hands down his body as she brought her face to his cock. She slid it into her mouth, savouring the taste of her. Standing up, she again kissed him, this time sharing herself in the most intimate way, exploring her flavour together. A hand reached down and started to touch his balls with a feather-light touch, he moaned appreciatively and she firmed her grip slightly. Moving back down she started to deepthroat him again, continuing as she had done to force him into her throat with every stroke. Her hand on his balls became more exploratory, slick with saliva she started tracing her fingers around the skin behind his balls, occasionally fluttering over his asshole. She knew he loved that. She pulled back for a moment, swirling her tongue around him as she did, then pushed her face as far as it could go into his stomach. She felt his head swell inside her throat as he tensed up with the shock of it. She choked as it did so, the extra stimulation causing him to move in his seat. He was closer than she'd thought. She pulled back and sat on her haunches, gasping for air.

He heard her moving around, there was a wet pop and then some more sounds of something slick being rubbed. Then he felt her slippery, slightly open asshole against the head of his cock. She slid him in slowly, the thick saliva on his cock and the lube already inside making it an easy thing to do. The she began to move up and down on his cock, the tight, grasping passage trying to tug the cum out of him. He could feel the muscles in her ass rippling as she gyrated. She reached back and moved the blindfold up, he was treated to the view of her pantied butt, grinding back against him as she leaned forwards away from him. Her arm stretched underneath herself and she started to play with his balls again. The combination of stimulation was electric, within a few strokes the release that had been building for the last hour burst out. His stomach tensed as it did, his legs tightening and arms straining against their restraints. She sat down as far as she could, plunging his cock into her hot depths as it spurted into her. As he finally stopped spasming she started to grind gently, her ass hungrily massaging every drop he had to give her. She sat back a little and untied his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and resting his head on her shoulder, kissing that little spot on the nape of her neck that always did. As he got his breathing under control he whispered in her ear,

"Thank you, you're such a good girl." Xia

I want to be your monster. The terrible thing you make a pact with to hold you in the night and keep you safe. Who keeps you close and warm and safe from all the other bumps in the night. The man who's presence can lull you to sleep or wake you up with a gasp, merely from where I touch you. To keep you as secure in my grip as you are in my thoughts.

---

Something about you rouses me from sleep and I find my hands sliding through your hair in the scant light of the pre-dawn. It takes a moment to adjust, to really come back into focus, so I let my hands do my thinking for me. They travel the length of you dark hair to the end and a few extra inches over your ashen skin. 

You stir, emitting a pleasant moan. And with it I am brought back to life instantly.

My dark eyes open to scan over you as my hand slides down your back, over your spine, and back up your side. I make small circles and designs playing over it as I become aware of heavy breathing, my elevated heart rate. The cock you've made insufferably hard just by being as desirable as you are. 

This time, when my hand slides over the nape of your neck and you moan, I growl lowly and feel my cock stretch in a painful jut forward. 

There must be some expectation here because you do not move at all. No shift or waking in any way. How many times have you made me growl for you before its even light outside? How often have I painted little invisible symbols on your back so that you don't even wake when it's happening?

I move closer to you, my left hand snaking up to reach under you so I can slide my index finger up and down the front of your neck. My right hands surfs along your curves, from your knee up to the middle of your thigh. From your hip to the small of your stomach and up your ribs and over your arm. It's a journey I've made a thousand times and want to make a million more. I am only a man though, and my hand drops to move over the side of your right breast.

There is no way I can avoid touching them, not if I can help it, and often if I can't. I wonder how any man could. My fingers trace along the outer rim, touching both your breast and the skin of your chest, doing my best to avoid your nipple. I trace a concentrated circle around the edge before drifting aimlessly across your torso, your thighs and up again as a second finger begins to stroke the front of your neck.

My cock is too hard and full to hide, so I press the whole of my body up against yours, and let it fall between your thighs. There is just the hint of heat of and wetness without touching and knowing it's there, how close I am, makes just the tiniest bit of human escape through hot, wanting breath. 

You mumble something in sleep talk, but I do not hear it. And it doesn't matter what it was at this point—the outcome is set.

Fingers stop stroking your neck and instead my hand slowly clasps around it, not to tighten or choke in anyway, just to hold it. To claim you. To have you in hand because I can't get any closer to you.

Something dark rises to the surface. It wants to talk from the back of my throat and move hot blood through my body like I'm running in the summer. Like I'm dying of thirst and I need to squeeze water out of you. As though there is no other way for us to be. It ramps up the sensation of your skin on mine, of my touch on you, of the closeness of our bodies and the cold comfort of the night. It tells me to smell you.

And it is so right to do so. This is when you smell best. When there is only the after-hint of perfume, when the shampoo has all but left. When the only thing I get, truly sense, is you. The smell of your hair. Your skin. It is intimate and close and I wouldn't trade it for any other thing you can give until I need the next part of your more.

Lips press into your shoulder. Long, slow pulses pressed into you before I suck the tiniest bit. Move and repeat. No quick trail, no rapid burst, just me trying my best to get some of the taste of you in my mouth.

You shift and the tip of your pussy lips rub against the top of my cock before it slides between your thighs again. Innocent, or so I think, but it exercises a little bit more of the man right out of me. 

I growl and you shift again. You start to turn so I pull back and let you move towards me. Your eyes are small and covered in fog, but you give me a smile and say hi. 

Hi, I say back.

You lean your head up expectantly and we kiss, lightly, morning breath and all. It deepens a little but you pull back and look at me. You hold my gaze for a moment before your eyes close again and you nuzzle into my arm, ignoring my hand around your neck like its not even there. And after a moment, you