by Poppet
Hot polished skin taunts me as he aims around my thrumming cavity, slipping the solid mass in the lust leaking from my body, around and over, firm and teasing, flicking over the hard bullet pulsing with a need of its own between my legs.
It's too much, my ache is killing me, and I stutter a whine into the shoulder braced over my head, pressing begging lips to the skin of his chest which hides the heart that beats in a song heard only by the exulted.
Tears gather in my eyes when I hold my breath, ready to scream with frustration, so desperate, so appallingly reduced to a pinprick point of destiny.
This moment is surely written into the lines of my hands and buried in a crystal ball hidden in heaven's vault.
Strong hands brush my hair back, pinning my chin up and arching my spine when heavy forearms rest on my long hair, imprisoning me in the frame of his body, of his arms; poised in complete vulnerability beneath him, my mouth open to draw shaky breaths, as wet and swollen as the kiss waiting for him between the legs he has splayed so easily below the crush of his hips.
His smile is so demure and delicate, the touch of his lips claiming mine so gentle, it is a paradox to the urgency that is whipping us to consecrate our fate.
Velveteen heat rides into me when his mouth binds my broken breath, driving into me with his tongue and simultaneously with his body, swallowing the oath of my moan, claiming all of me with merciless precision.
Quaking with overload, my body explodes inward and outward like shrapnel thrown through me from Haydes. Squealing against his plunging tongue my voice sounds far away and foreign - I sound like an animal beyond despair. My thighs burn with the erratic heat spreading from the numbing and overriding pleasure of his body sliding in and out of mine.
Oh sweeeeeet holy ground.
It's like a plague infiltrating every cell in my body, bursting it into rioting anarchy before immediately draining it of all sustenance and strength.
Weak, melting into an amoeba-like state, aware of only one moment in all creation, his lips fade away, his breath, his scent, his weight, nothing else matters but the shredding ecstasy chasing up into my body, spreading down my legs, numbing my toes and tingling my fingertips, it's complete and gloriously excruciating.
The world fades when I shudder, my nipples icing and turning hard as rocks when my orgasm squeezes the treacle heat of my tenderness against a body so dominant.
It's impossible to escape the endless pressure forcing me to crest and breach the envelope of release.... it's a paradise of swells and highs, smuggling his essence into every slither of my soul.
Hyperventilating, clutching to tungsten muscles in his shoulders, I slowly come back into myself, to open my eyes to stare into his, to kiss my gratitude on every pore of his face that I can reach from my prison, overwhelmed with the intensity of us unleashed.
Inside the whoosh of the receding wave; my torment eased with the salve of incredible euphoria, he lays siege to my body.
It's fire swimming through water when his aquamarine light pours over me like the dragon's breath from dry ice, his chest burying me when he pins his forehead on mine and skids an immense pressure deeply in and out of me, pounding like a knight destroying the castle doors. His effort trickles sweat from him onto my forehead, his grip clamping me with such ferocity I'm afraid he'll break me. His hands have my head so tightly captured, he's no longer conscious of me, or of his mammoth stature and strength.
I focus with him, wanting to savor the moment, ignoring the concern of the vice he's exerting on my temples with fingers tensed in tandem with the rest of his frame.
Closing my eyes I concentrate, feeling him deep within me, and it's strange. There is a hook, a ridge, something... it prevents him from pulling out. Like a lover's clause which was written for the first defenders, you give and take in equal measure. There's no stopping halfway, both partners explode or you cannot disengage.
It's such a peculiar sensation, but when it bolts up to the deepest part of me it's like having someone lick my lust into a part of me that I had no clue existed.
It's another erogenous zone available to the select few with the equipment.
Oh my god!
I can feel it, it blossoms, expanding, filling and rubbing that hidden point, and the strange sound he elicits from deep within me stretches up to join the jagged breath he's gasping over my mouth.
Pulling against the tug of every hair follicle I can't prevent the buck, the curve, the bolt of transcendental power pouring through me and tipping me over a zenith, screaming into the mouth hovering over mine when he rips through me like a molten strand of silver slipping over a sheet of ice.
It destroys me in increments. I cannot withstand this much pleasure, it leaves me obliterated. His orgasm literally lathers my blood in the echo of his rupture, coating and cloaking my soul with the light of a trillion galaxies all focused on vibrating my body with a resonance of bliss.
Slumping, my head spinning and with hollow points of darkness blinding me, I sag against the leather, unable to feel my legs at all, just the frantic rapping of my heart.
When he climaxed it felt as if someone had just filled my body with manna. Dissolving, sweet, beyond euphoric, it broke gravity and strewed heaven's floor with me as I catapulted into a stratosphere of rhapsody. He is so precious it bangs my raw nerves like a mallet on a recent amputation.
The grip on my head lessens and loving lips press over mine, moving to my neck.
He squeezes me in a final death grip hug as the rasp of a graveled and fractured voice says in my ear, “I'm never letting you go.”
Chapter 7
Zauran:
I love her lady noises. Forget whale songs on CD, record her when her TNT is unstable and I'd have a permanent grin, and be raging hard.
Stormy blue eyes glazed with satiated desire engage mine.
Ryan fucked up part of this process for me, but not all of it. Dipping in to pilfer her thoughts, I have to swallow my laugh at her inner comedian.
You have to let me go or you'll squash me and I'll have a very short life. At least I can say I died with a smile on my face.
So which part of that was the 'unusual sexual trait' he referred to the first time we ended up naked together? I can think of more than one unusual trait I've just lived through. Holy fuck!
Ignoring her internal dialog I lift her up with me, sitting us so I can rest my shoulders and back against the couch. She's pliant and supple, one more star on the Zaria chart.
I don't want to disengage. I could spend the rest of the week deep inside the sticky heat of her. With her swollen up tight against me like a narrow pouch made of hot wet mouth, I close my eyes and lean my head back, savoring it and getting another pounding hard-on.
I want to fuck her to next month.
Opening my eyes as I fill her, expanding in every way, even my lungs expand in my chest as if readying for a race; I am perplexed.
Why you? What makes you so different?
I'm not human, in any way, but you make me feel like one. It's the light floating just beneath the surface. The light Ryan cock-blocked me over. I want to taste it with every fiber of my body, but now I have to wait for full moon. I was so close, covering you with gloaming, ready to withdraw it and weave my Plyx with yours, and he shut it down with three little words.
The rule book, which once read, means you cannot taste light until the moon is at its brightest. Fuck!
I say them to her, caressing waist length black hair to hook over her shoulders so I can appreciate pink nipples in pert buttermilk breasts, “Khdyhq zhofrphv brx.”
You have no clue that by you reading those words Ryan initiated you into the fold and made you one of us.
He's moving in on my territory and I'm not going to let him.
You are mine!
“Say it again,” she murmurs breathlessly, the effort mirrored by the perfect slant of each breast and the overt display of her nipples.
What fucking magnificent little nipples. They m
ake her seem younger, fresher, somehow more delicate.
Distracted by an open mouth swollen from pressured kisses, trailing my focus to a tight flat stomach with a perfect indentation running down to her navel, I end up staring at her legs resting either side of me, captivated by the way she fits on me like she was made for me.
I have a human to love.
Blinking, my heart scrapes against my ribs with this sudden realization, stamping beats out with tribal fervor. I lay my hands on each of her legs with my heart thumping inside me, “Khdyhq zhofrphv brx.”
“Say it slowly. How do I pronounce it?”
Staring back at her moisture gilded eyelashes, looking for the spirit hidden in her eyes, I whisper, “Kiddick Zorv Brix.”
She leans closer, tender palms absently brushing over my pecs and shoulders as she watches my mouth, repeating my words as I say them.
“What does it mean?” She ducks her head as if ashamed she can't pronounce it, and it's coy.
I want to fuck you again, right now!
“Heaven welcomes you,” I say instead.
Screw this.
Lifting her, I twist her so she's spine flat beneath me again. Shapely legs grip my hips and pull me deeper with instinct when I change our polarity, and I'm further in, slipping deeper, getting closer, feeling more, shoving and nudging my way through the door to her soul.
Melting warmth licks straight through me, the tips of her hair painting my balls, and it's all I can do not to break her with an almighty rush. Tensing, gritting my teeth, my hair hangs above her forehead as she stares up and into me with presence.
The caliber of her eyes is enough to pause me.
“Heaven welcomes you. That makes sense you know.” Smooth nubile legs pull me deeper, her innocent expression dissolves into sultry, “You feel like heaven to me.”
No Zaria, you are the one who feels like heaven. It strips me into zealous carnage.
Closing my eyes, harnessing my self-control, I slide out, slowly, inhaling the bouquet of lust coated lips slicking my dick with minxfire and wild sex.
Slaking my hunger I shove in, snuggled into the crypt which could so easily make a man despair. Slicing back, it's juicy and surreal, the tension teasing my erection so impeccable it forces me deeper, the ridge expanding, going for the easy goal.
Hot breath laces my neck with her perfume and taste, fingers move to grip my triceps for stability, and her blessed whimpered groan of pleasure breaks my reserve.
Pulling outward in a quick motion, I slalom back in, connecting with the pressure point perfectly positioned for this art.
Her cry raises a notch, the pitch almost angelic, and then I dive in deeper, forcing her long raven hair flat out beneath her like a sheet. The wetness of her body leaks out marginally as I expand and create a miniscule pocket below her clit, pulsating there to tease her when my head widens against the one orgasm region only we can touch.
It's a sac that fits over my head like a condom, hidden there by a creator waiting for neuri babies. Made like that so every particle of me is caught and hidden safely away.
We can't procreate with each other, we're all male; we can only have children with humans. Right this second I want her to beat with my heartbeat, to live on my breath, to grow my image in her womb, it's a powerful mirage and I'm shaken with the rush, quelling my pressure I explode, wracked from the bottom of my spine to the base of my skull, chills chasing the singe to delve inside her and hide so deep no one can undo what I just did; not Ryan, not Darise, no one.
Ryan underestimated me.
Now she's locked with me and I'm the only one with the key.
Shattered breath wraps its velvet warmth around my earlobe and her voice is as shaky as her trembling legs, “My God, Zauran. I've... wow.”
The cover of her skin, the scent of her core, the musk and perfume and shivering delicate sweetness: I'm possessed.
Ruthless, I slide slowly back and ram once more into that haven, shooting every ounce of body fluid left inside me into her.
“You're mine, to love. I'm never releasing you, Zaria. Never.”
It's raw and hoarse and came out way more psycho than I intended it. But she simply clenches her fingers in my hair and pulls me closer to shield her skin, to depress the pillow of each breast, “Good, because now that I'm here, I don't want to leave.”
Suckling on a soft lip, tasting the sheen of her flesh, I breach her mouth again, needing more than I've ever needed anything to own her.
I can't afford to lose this, it would break me.
Fingernails lightly score a path down my spine, causing a ripple of sensation, and I lift up to catch my breath.
“I need to pee,” she whispers, as if in apology.
Her cheeks are flushed with the pink of desire and sex, but now they grow hot and red.
She's blushing!
Crushing her when I get an arm underneath her, I grip her to my chest, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling the fragile scent of flowers, “You are so fucking cute.”
I've never been emotionally moved by sex before. This is alien and strange. It's left me awkwardly vulnerable, but her hands frame my jaw and she smiles as if she's a goddess with the secret to the dancing fountains. Her kiss is so soft, so tender, it's loving and careful, as if she knows how fucking scared I am and how insanely shaken she's left me.
“You have to let me go long enough to use the bathroom.”
Sliding out, gradually, her skin suctions and pulls taut around me; and it's like being forced out of bed on a cold morning. I hate not being inside her. I could live there.
Closing her legs, grabbing her pink lace underwear, she holds it ungracefully between her legs, obviously expecting a mess. If she only knew what I did.
She looks at the secured door, “I don't know where to find the bathroom from here.”
“I'll take you,” I say, inhaling deeply while memorizing every shape and curve, unable to break my fixated surveillance.
It's adorable when she captures my waist with her arm and leans in, pressing an alert nipple to my hip.
She's short. Her head reaches my elbow. She's definitely no match for a determined neuri. Now that she's conceived I'm going to have to watch over her like I've never watched over anything before in my long existence.
It's an anticlimax to wander back into the house, escorting her to the bathroom.
I'm reluctant to leave even though I know she'd prefer the privacy. Leaning a shoulder against the mushroom shade of the wall, the bathroom door closes on me and I stare down the length of the passage to the opposite door.
Fuck!
When he steps out and smiles at me, I don't care that I'm naked, I just want to decapitate him.
Chapter 8
Zauran:
Striding silently to him, I block the doorway, “What the fuck are you doing here Sveta?”
“Is that who I think it is? She's naked, Zauran. Are you trying to start a war or somethin'?”
“She came to me, not that it's any of your business. Get lost, I'm busy.”
He clamps my arm with binding strength, forcing me to pause in my dismissive turn away from his body, “Zauran, Ryan's here. I needed ta warn you.”
“I know, he's already been here.”
“Was she here then?” Sveta says, nudging his head to indicate the bathroom door.
“Yup.”
“Shit.”
You can say that again.
Staring at my younger brother I don't even know what to say. He shakes his auburn hair out of his eyes and impresses tension at me with the amber glow varnishing them.
“Do you need help protecting her?” he says in a quiet baritone.
“I'd appreciate it.”
“What did Ryan do?” he nudges his head toward Zaria's location again.
“He threw the rule book between us so I couldn't touch her Plyx. But I have my own means. He can't have her, I made sure of it.”
Sveta's pale face looks even starker when
he meets me eye to eye, “Did he indicate he's going after her?”
I give him a nod, breaking his grip and returning his hand with a forceful shove, “Fuck off already. I don't need my entire family ruining this night for me.”
“What about Darise?” he whispers; insistent.
“What about him?” I say, giving him the full indication that no squirmy vampyre can intimidate me. And if Darise throws his weight around with Zaria I'll finally have an excuse to snap his back.
I'm too late, she's standing there peeking at us around the doorframe, her eyes wide with alarm.
“My other brother, Sveta,” I say to her, injecting projection into my voice, nudging my head at my kin.
Sveta gives her a little nod and his suave smile, propping an arm against the doorframe and calculating the distance.
“I'm your alpha, Sveta. Don't even think about it,” I say under my breath.
Defiant eyes flick to engage mine, the smirk of mischief displayed across his expression is enough to douse my hopes of ever having Zaria all to myself.
“Do you have a sister?” he says to her, crossing his arms and licking his lips, making no move to give her privacy while she tries to hide her nudity behind a wall and flimsy wooden frame.
Solid to her, but flimsy by our standards.
“No. But there's a woman who looks exactly like me at Pravus.” The tone she employs is bitter with scathing anger.
Sveta looks to me, arching an interested eyebrow.
I nod, telling him telepathically, Her name is Božena. I met her this morning.
And you said nothing to me? He adopts a challenging expression.
I didn't know you had Zaria in the crosshairs of your dick. Are you the one looking to start a war, brat?
Standing taller, I deliberately release the alpha atmosphere which marks territory. Just enough to remind him who's in command here. I called him brother in Serbian, in Cyrillic, he is my brat, my brother, but every now and again I need to remind him I'm older and way more powerful.
Go find Božena, she smells the same. I say with anger clenching my jaw.
