Styx's Storm (Breeds 16)

"Don't stop," she moaned weakly as he pulled back, breaking the kiss as his fingers slid free of her pussy.

"Never," he growled. God she loved that rough, animal sound that deepened as he grew hungrier.

His lips moved down her neck, then to her upthrust breasts. As his lips covered a tight, hard nipple, his thumb stroked over the swollen bud of her clit. He caressed the little bundle of nerves, stroking around it, flickering against it as his tongue flicked over her nipple, his teeth raking against it.

This was wild. Incredible.

Storme swore she could feel hidden flames burning deep in her vagina. Flames that demanded, that burned in agony for the hard thrust of his cock.

She didn't want foreplay.

She wanted Styx. She wanted him inside her, stretching her, burning her. She wanted to feel the iron-hard heat of the wide crest parting her, forging within her.

"Fuck, lass," he seemed to snarl, the brogue and the growl both heavy in his voice now. "We'll burn down the night afore it's done."

Back arching, she moved closer.

Wrapping her legs around his hips, Storme fought to align her hips with his, to thrust against him, to experience the burning impalement before she went crazy for it.

"Styx, I don't know what you do to me," she moaned, her hand smoothing down his tight, hard stomach to the thick shaft beyond.

Her fingers didn't have a hope of wrapping around it. The shaft was too wide, too heavily veined and throbbing with power.

Stroking her fingers to the damp tip, Storme fought to pull enough of her senses together to keep from melting in a mass of pure sensation before he ever got around to fucking her.

"I know what ye do to me." Pulling back, he lifted her to his chest and strode to the living room. "Ye make me crazy for ye, Sugar. Ye make me forget everything but the pleasure ye bring me. Come, little Storme, give me this pleasure I need. I need it until I feel I'm burnin' inside for ye."

He moved to the couch, set her on her feet, turned her, then pressed her down until her knees hit the cushions. With his hand at the back of her shoulders, he pressed her over.

Storme trembled. She rested her folded arms against the arm of the couch before staring back at him nervously.

At any other time she would have protested. She would have never allowed him to take her like this, to come behind her undefended back.

"So fuckin' pretty." His hand smoothed down her spine, then to the curve of her buttocks.

The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking with demanding warmth sent her juices flowing from her pussy. The inner muscles pulsed and throbbed as she pressed back, so eager, so desperate to feel him thrusting inside her she could barely stand it.

"Do it already," she demanded, her voice hoarse as his fingers slid between her thighs to test the slick wetness once again. "God, Styx, what have you done to me?"

"Loved ye well, lass. Ah hell, I'll always love ye well."

Did he realize what he had said? Storme felt her chest tighten, her heart aching as the swollen head of his cock pressed between the swollen folds of her sex.

"Love me well." She couldn't believe she was demanding it. That she knew in her heart and soul that she was demanding more than the sex, more than the physical love he was always so ready to give her. "Oh God, Styx, I don't know if I can bear it."

He pressed inside, parting her, stretching her. She felt so tight, too snug for the width of the shaft easing inside her.

"Sweet Storme." He hovered over her, one hand gripping her hip, the other hand pressing to the arm of the couch as he began working his cock slowly inside the clenched depths of her pussy.

Each shallow thrust worked him farther inside the burning depths of her pussy, as she felt the pleasure-pain of the muscles parting, stretching, accommodating the heated shaft as the bulging crest pulsed and throbbed inside her.

She could feel it. The flex of each pulse of blood thundering in his cock seemed to echo inside her overstretched flesh.

Her head tossed, her nails clawed at the upholstery of the couch arm as she pressed back, fighting to take more, to force him to take possession of her before she went insane for it.

"Ah lass, how sweet and hot ye are," he groaned, his lips at her ear as she whimpered in rising pleasure. "Feel how tight ye are, lass. How ye grip my dick, sucking it inside your sweet little pussy."

The clenching, uncontrollable tremors that shook her body seemed centered there in the muscles surrounding no more than a few inches of the thick flesh.