Storme arched, crying out at each touch as her body began to hum with pleasure. There was nothing as incredible as Styx's touch. As having his lips at her throat, his canines raking over the sensitive cords of her neck and his fingers pressing into the needy depths of her pussy.
"Yes," she hissed in desperation, pressing into the penetration of two strong, wide fingers as they worked their way inside the slick, greedy depths of her sex.
"I won't let you run." He nipped at her neck as she cried out at the deep, penetrating thrust of his fingers inside her. "I'll be damned if I'll lose you to your own damned stubbornness."
Her head fell back against his shoulder as he removed his hand from her breast. A second later she felt him working loose his jeans, releasing the hard, thick length of his cock.
She twisted against him then, a hunger she couldn't control rising inside her.
He let her move, let her turn to face him, only to brace his hands on his shoulders and push her to her knees on the ground.
Her hand went to his thigh, gripping the sides of the impossibly hard muscle with one hand as the fingers of the other curled around his cock.
There were few preliminaries. The desperation riding inside her threatened to steal her mind. She wanted to enjoy every second, every touch until she lost herself to it.
Her lips parted.
Styx's fingers threaded into her hair and gripped the strands as he wrapped the fingers of one hand around the base of the heavy shaft.
Lightning flashed again, sending flares of light flickering over the savage planes of his face. Taut, hard, his expression was filled with lust, with hunger, as he pressed the wide crest to her parted lips.
"Suck it, Sugar," he groaned. "Give me that tight little mouth, love."
A slow, shallow thrust buried the hard, burning head of his cock inside her mouth and dragged a low, hard groan from his chest.
Storme could sense the hunger flowing from him. He burned with it, his cock throbbed hard and tight with it as her tongue curled over the head, stroking as she licked, loving the taste of him, the feel of him.
As he held the hard flesh for her to work her mouth over the engorged tip, Storme's hands were free to roam. As rain poured over them, ran down his chest, to his thighs and around the thrusting length of his dick, her hands caressed and stroked the warmth of his thighs.
Dipping between them, she found the tight, drawn sac of his balls, caressed them and shivered at the sound of the harsh, rough rumble of pleasure that reached her ears.
The hand that held tight to her hair moved her head as he fucked her lips, while he held the base of the shaft with the other. Storme could feel the heavy pulse and throb of blood beneath the heavily veined flesh. Each minute pulse of pre-cum that shot into her mouth was filled with the taste of cinnamon and male heat.
Unique. Heated, the taste of him seemed to fill her senses with the flush and power of a narcotic. It rushed to her head with each pulse of blood to her brain and struck a match to the intoxicating, explosive power of the arousal that flooded her.
She was drowning in him.
Her tongue licked and stroked over the engorged cock as each heavy throb of the unusual ejaculation spurted against her tongue. She tasted and relished. She suckled at the hard flesh, moaning as her fingers slid to the swollen, sensitive bud of her clit.
It burned, throbbed. The swollen bud was so tight and hard it was nearly painful as she stroked and rubbed against the side of the sensitive knot of nerve endings.
"Such a sweet fucking mouth," he groaned, his voice as harsh, as deep as the sound of thunder, muted and low in the distance now. "Suck it hard, baby. Let me feel that hot little tongue loving the hell out of my dick."
And she was loving it. She was intoxicated with it.
She took it as deep as possible, feeling the hard pulse of the wide crest at the back of her throat before retreating to lick at the head once again.
His fingers kneaded her scalp as his thighs bunched and tightened and his cock seemed to harden further, the crest throbbing as though swelling further between her already stretched lips.
"Damn. Enough baby."
Styx jerked back. He could feel the knot pulsing in the tight flesh of his cock, closer to the surface, threatening to expand and swell with each hard pulse of pre-cum he released into her mouth.
He could feel her heat rising, smell it in the storm-drenched air around them.
It wasn't mating heat, but it was damned close. Rich, filled with spice, heated and tempting, it went to his head. Staring down at her, he watched as she pulled back, staring up at him as she licked over the head of his dick, the illumination of the slowly emerging moon gleaming over her pale face and the long, sodden silk of her hair as it flowed down her back.
She looked like a wood nymph, a sexy, sensual little temptress dragging him into a lust-filled adventure that threatened to destroy his self-control.