Beautiful Nightmare (Dark Dream 2)

When I whimpered in response, he placed a hand in my sternum and pushed me flat to the felt. Leaning over me, he kissed me softly, soothing the edge of pain thrumming through my body with the sweet press of his lips. The high frequency energy tingling through every inch of me gentled, mellowed, as he curried my torso with strong strokes of his hands.

“You can take more,” he promised me, hooking an arm around one of my limp legs to raise it up over his shoulder. “Tell me, Bianca.”

“I want more,” I answered immediately, my voice threadbare from screaming and moaning. “I always want more with you.”

Pure masculine triumph lit his face and his handsomeness took my breath away.

He pulled me up into his arms, hugging me tight as he thrust up into me. His rough pubic hair abraded my clit in a way that had my nails scrabbling at his back through his suit, my teeth sinking into his corded neck to anchor me to him as I threatened to float away.

But no matter how hard he fucked me like that, I couldn’t seem to orgasm again. Frustration built inside me along this intense, itchy need to climax again.

“Please,” I begged incoherently, clawing at Tiernan’s head as if I could force him to break me open around this burning energy inside me one last time. “Please.”

“I know what you need,” he promised, pulling away from my grasping hands.

I watched blearily as he moved to the nearby craps table with his trousers hanging open around his wet, red cock. He grabbed a glossy wooden stick with a flat golden end from the felt top that I’d seen the dealers use to push chips around on the table. He tested the weight of the implement against his palm and then glanced over at me with dark intent rich in his eyes.

“Tiernan,” I said in warning.

“Hush,” he encouraged as he stalked back to me.

Quickly and easily, as if I was a ragdoll, he flipped me over on the table so my torso was pressed to the felt and my legs dangled over the edge, bottom thrust into the air. He was inside me the next second, his air-cooled dick soothing inside my sensitive pussy.

“Brace against the table, little thing. This one is going to end both of us,” he promised as he wrapped one hand around my shoulder for leverage.

On his second thrust, I discovered what he had grabbed the stick for. It slapped down against the bare skin of my ass, lighting my tired nerve-endings in a way that made me gasp and clutch fruitlessly against the felt table top.

“Tiernan,” I ground out between my clenched teeth as he fucked me and beat my bottom with the dealer’s stick. “Oh my God, it’s too intense.”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his civilized veneer crushed beneath the heel of his savage desire. “Or do you like the pain? Does it make your swollen pussy ache for me?”

“More,” I sobbed, crying as sensation crashed through me, obliterating everything I had left. The sting of the improvised crop on my ass ricocheted through me like a battering ram. “More, please, more.”

“Fuck,” he groaned long and low. “I can feel you milking me. Do you want my cum inside you, little thing? I’m going to fill you up until your leaking down your thighs and then I’m going to feed it to you.”

My fifth orgasm overtook me like a predator in the night, overpowering me with ferocious teeth and claws. It tore me apart piece by piece, until I was a shivering, gasping mess hanging over the table like slaughtered prey. The sound of Tiernan’s victorious shout and the feel of him pumping me full of his cum, cock jerking against my clenching cunt, made me nearly pass out from the pleasure and for a moment, everything went blessedly black.

When I came to moments later, Tiernan was gently cleaning me up with a silk handkerchief, his touch light between my ravaged folds. He hushed me and murmured little words of praise as he tucked his softening cock away and gently collected me off the table into his arm. I settled in his hold easily, utterly boneless and spent.

When he pressed a kiss to my forehead and then another to each cheek, I was too tired to tease him for his sudden loveliness.

“Am I forgiven?” he whispered against my lips, and that wasn’t a tease, but an aching vulnerability.

I forced my eyes open so I could look up into his equally shattered expression. “Carve my name into your chest and we’ll see, but you’re getting there.”

He chuckled, kissed the top of my head and started walking us through the casino. “Rest, my sweet thing. I’ll keep you safe while you sleep.”

“We still have to talk,” I warned, but the words were slurred with exhaustion.