Immortal, Insatiable, Indomitable

She squeezed his erection as hard as she could. “If you don’t deliver on those big-time threats right this second, Vidar, I swear I’ll hurt you.”

His groaned his pained pleasure, appreciation of her desperation and bravado blazing in his eyes as he tore her panties off her with the same ease he’d ruined her bra. “Wasn’t there some provision in your Hippocratic oath about harming others?”

“It’s ‘First Do No Harm.’ I’ve given you enough warnings.”

“So you did.” Something merry and menacing revved from him, had all her hairs on end as he poised her over his length. But instead of driving into her, he glided the scorching, flowing-with-arousal head through the swollen lips of her sex.

She lurched on a shrill cry. The heat was incredible, its effect more so. He circled her engorged knot until she writhed, everything focusing where his flesh tormented hers.

She’d never known anything could feel this good.

As if reading her thought, he groaned, “It’ll only get better.”

He broke contact a second before she came apart. Then he raised her with unbelievable strength, made her feel weightless, hovering over him as he thrust up into her in shallow strokes, his face driven.

She tried to crash over him, engulf him. She knew it would hurt. She wanted it to. She wanted him to brand her.

She begged for his invasion. “Now, Vidar, please.”

He finally obeyed. He thrust up and dragged her down at once, forging through the initial shock and resistance of her body, then plunging past into the depths that yielded for him, feeling like a sword just out of the fire. She screamed his name, with the pain, with its excruciating pleasure.

Her back arched, her head bent back, her mouth opened on the scream that was now silent with the bombardment of sensations. For endless moments she felt nothing, heard nothing, was nothing but overstretched with his potency, invaded, full beyond her capacity, delirious with the carnality of it all, the completion.

He lifted her again, and the receding fullness as he withdrew from her depths had her clawing at him, her demand for him to resume his domination incoherent, fragmented. “Vidar…don’t…give me…”

“All you can take and more.” His face was clenched in what looked like suffering as he pulled her down again. She’d thought he’d filled her on that first thrust. But he now forged deeper, felt as if he’d never stop. “Nothing has ever felt like this. You’re burning me, too. Consume me as I invade you, as I fill you and finish you, Kara. Take all of me, all the way inside you.”

He did feel all the way inside her, as if he might breach her womb with every thrust. She was trembling all over, as if with the advance tremors of a major quake. Then he lodged himself farther yet, growled, “Come all over me, Kara. Scream my name.”

His command was the last straw. Every spark of existence converged into that one point where he was buried deepest inside her, condensed into one pinpoint of absolute being.

Then it exploded.

She screamed his name as the sensations razed through her. She shattered, then reformed around his thickness with every discharge, her inner muscles straining to drain him of all the pleasure he was flooding into her body, of his own release.

From the abyss of ecstasy, she heard him roar her name, felt him stiffen in her arms, ram her deeper than ever, breaching her completely, before jet after jet of his seed flooded her. Her orgasm spiked at feeling his hot release inside her intimate flesh. She shook, writhed, pleasure almost damaging in intensity inundating her.

Time ceased, stretched, streaked. All she knew was that she was draped all over him, a nerveless mass, replete to her last cell, her heart hammering over his, her lips open on snatches of air and on the burning flesh of his neck.

She’d just been fucked out of her literal mind in a crowded nightclub. And no one was even looking at them.

Or she’d been too far gone to notice if somebody had been watching, and she’d raise her eyes to find an avid audience of hundreds recording videos and waiting for an encore.

She didn’t give a damn about them. Only about the encore.

Still feeling him undiminished inside her, she pulled back to look at him. His eyes were heavy with pure male satisfaction, his lips filled with dominant arrogance and the promise of more.

She rested her buzzing palms over his hot, hard, moist chest. “You were right to warn me. It was…beyond endurance.”

His eyes darkened. Then he began to raise her off him. He’d misunderstood.

She clung to him, inside and out. “The pleasure was. More, Vidar. I have to have more.”

Vidar looked into the flushed face of the woman he was still buried to the hilt inside. The woman in whose body he’d just experienced the first complete pleasure of his endless existence. She was devouring him with the same stunned voracity that raged inside him, demanding more.

He had to have more, too. He’d thought he’d walk away after he’d sated them both. But this encounter had just whetted his appetite for her until it felt like a sword twisting into his vitals. In fact, a sword had only been agonizing. But this was also maddening, will-sapping, and all around far more dangerous.

For now, he could only succumb.