King of Cups (Stormcloud Academy 2)

Even silhouetted in the doorway, Zephyr’s profile was unmistakable.

His toned, lean frame and bulging biceps were apparent in a black Alexander Wang tee and a pair of joggers. He carried a hefty duffel bag across his shoulder, which he dumped on the floor as he stepped into the room. Though no lights were on, the sunlight peeking through cracks in the curtains caught his face. I could see that his already ruddy complexion was bronze from afternoons on the sand. His dark brown curls were a shade lighter from the sun, and the ink on his arms seemed faded for the lack of contrast with his skin tone.

Zephyr’s nearly-black irises bore into me, but he spoke not a word. Instead, he silently shut the door behind him, took two steps toward me, lifted a hand to my waist, and tore the towel from my body.

It was not cold in the room, this being the height of August, but I nonetheless shivered under his gaze. I sucked in my tummy and lifted my chest to his hungry eyes, affecting as much defiance as I could while standing naked and wet before him.

Then his hands were on me. He took hold of my soaking hair with one fist and pulled my head back, and his other clutched my tit with savage possession. Electricity shot through me again as I felt his rough palm against my nip, and his teeth devoured my throat. He sucked on my neck, my shoulder, and the breast he lifted to his mouth, leaving a trail of welts. Then he released my hair and thrust his fingers down my back and under my ass, those thick digits probing between my cheeks and underneath to caress my dripping pussy.

Fuck, how I’d longed to feel my lover’s commanding arms around me. I’d found my skin tingling at points during the summer, the nerves beneath recalling every kiss, knead, bite, pinch, stroke, or penetration. It was as if Zephyr Williams had been pinning me down and fucking me hard from hundreds of kilometers away. All summer long.

Now he was back, in the flesh.

I wrapped my arms around his flexing shoulders and buried my face in his hair. It smelled of sea brine, citrus, salty air, and luxurious rooms. He reeked of the elite.

All at once, Zephyr turned me around and pushed me face-first on the bed. I was panting, almost out of my body with arousal. I fell forward with my elbows on the mattress. Zephyr grabbed my ankles and lifted them onto the bed too. I was on all fours now, my knees tucked close to my elbows and my face on the sheets, presenting myself to him. I wanted his thick cock inside me so fucking bad, but that would have to wait. First came his tongue, doing curlicues over my womanhood, swirling along my clit, around my labia, then up to my pliant entrance. I felt his thumb holding open my pussy to give his tongue access and one of his forefingers teasing my ass.

If I was on the cusp of coming in the bath, my desire was a dam breaking now. I clenched tight and breathed to hold my climax at bay. I would not come until he was inside me.

Peeking down between my thighs, I saw that my wish would soon be granted. Zephyr peeled down his joggers and boxer briefs, releasing his unspeakably thick cock. It pulsed insistently, its purple head bulbous and glistening with precum. He rubbed himself against me, teasing my clit, nearly sending me over the edge.

I couldn’t take it, so I reached down and took his meat in my hand. I pressed back into him and drew his whole turgid length inside.

“Oh, my god, yes,” I groaned, feeling my lover’s manhood stretching me from within.

It was divine, the sensation of being filled to the breaking point. It was like our bodies were built in harmony, like parts in a single erotic machine. His cock tipped up just so to tickle my G-spot the second he bottomed out. I shivered, and my flesh clammed up, and my breath caught in my throat, and it was like gravity disappeared and the only things holding me to the bed were his hands reaching down and clutching my bouncing tits. His hips undulated behind me, that massive erection driving into me again and again, stretching me ever further yet making me wetter and wetter still. With each thrust, his balls slapped against my sensitive bud. I heard myself squealing with joy.

My orgasm rumbled forward. It was breaking through my paltry defenses.

Zephyr hadn’t uttered a word since entering the room, but I could now hear his guttural moaning. He was as desperate for release as I was.

I arched my back and pressed harder into him, taking him still deeper. Each impact sent me higher and higher. He bent down over me to lick the sweat from my back.

How long had we been fucking? It was probably only a minute, but it felt like blissful eternity. Time ceased to have meaning.

Light flashed before my eyes. I pressed my ass as hard as I could into Zephyr and felt the rapturous eruption take control of me. I convulsed as ripples of pure, unadulterated pleasure spread through my body.

Anyone walking by the room might have thought I was being murdered, so loud were my screams.

Facedown on the sheets, I reached down to touch myself. The climax was the hardest I’d had in months, but I wanted to prolong it.

Just as I felt it beginning to ebb, I heard Zephyr’s from behind me: “Oh, fuck, Biba—I’m coming!”

The feeling of his hot come raining down on me and pooling at the small of my back was enough to send me over the edge again. The world went white around me. I was gone.

When I regained my senses, I was still flat on my belly in bed. My sweat had cooled pleasantly in the musty bedroom.

A second later, I felt Zephyr slip into bed next to me, having shed his remaining clothing. Unfazed by the mess still coating my back, he pulled me tightly to him and kissed me hard.

“Mm, missed you, lover,” I cooed as he pulled back to catch his breath.

Ridiculous, I thought. After weeks of puzzling through Zephyr’s possible involvement in my best friend’s killing, I couldn’t help but covet his arms around me and the taste of his mouth. All it took was one good—strike that, spectacular—screw, and I was his again. At least for the moment.

“Must have been tough,” he replied, “just you and the old bat in this dusty old place. However did you pass your lonely nights?”

He arched his eyebrow suggestively, clearly working himself back up for round two.

I threw a little cold water on him: “There was much more sleeping than you would imagine, Zeph.”