47 - Ainsley

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Luke slams me down so damn hard on the bed I reckon that bitch might buckle. I chuckle at him as he strips out of the remainder of his wet clothes with extreme difficulty.

“Is something fucking funny?” he whitecaps.

I shake my head furiously in denial as he frees himself from the last bastard sock, trying with all my might not to laugh. Peeling wet clothes off is no limp dick as I quickly learned in my struggle to strip him of his shirt.

“You want to be punished?” He crests a brow as he stalks toward me.

I’m not sure how best to answer that. I sort of fucking do.

“Maybe later,” he deadwaters. “Right now, I need to take care of something I’ve been thinking about since I saw you in those hot as fuck heels.”

I smirk. “What’s that?”

He lowers himself below me on the bed, jerking my knees apart. “I want these.” He hauls my legs over his shoulders, lifting me almost off the bed. “Around my fucking neck.” Then he buries his face between my thighs.

I gasp at the sudden transition from the cool air to his hot as hell mouth, his tongue snaking out to taste me before increasing the pressure on my trigger. He makes long ass strokes that are more gentle than I imagined they’d be, like he’s savouring every bit of flavour.

I crook my arms under me to help support my weight where I’m bent up toward him so he can feast like the gluttonous fucker he is. The blood is rushing to my head, and that dizzying feeling increases my pleasure as he continues to lick and suck. He lets go of one of my thighs, his free hand sliding under it until he docks at his desired port, driving two fingers deep inside me. I buck against his face, my walls tightening around his fingers as his tongue circles my trigger.

He guides a third finger in to meet the first two, curling them forward to press into that glorious spot inside me. My legs shake with anticipation as he increases the speed of his fingers, pumping inside me in sync with his tongue, and my walls clamp around them like a fucking vice, my orgasm washing through me in fierce waves. He doesn’t stop his efforts until every ripple has calmed, every muscle in my body weak as shit from the meal he’s just made of me.

He lowers my legs from his shoulders to the bed, the blood slowly ebbing from my head as he trails kisses up my body. From my cylinder to my hip, to my belly button, and stopping at my tit where he snakes his tongue around my nipple before biting the fuck out of it. I reach for his hair, damp strands sliding through my fingers as I try to haul him up to my mouth, eager to feel his lips against mine again.

“So fucking impatient,” he breakwaters through a mouthful of tit.

He rotates between sucking and biting each nipple, flicking his tongue when he has them between his teeth. His hands work the one not in his mouth, squeezing and taunting them to harden under his direction.

His kisses continue north, rising up my chest to my neck where he bites and licks and sucks all the way to my lips. He pauses there, trawling his tongue along the bottom one before biting it gently. I force him forward with my grip on his head, deepening the kiss until there’s only one breath between us of shared air thinned by desire. His tongue sweeps through my mouth searching for mine, and mine rises to meet it, my hands sliding from his hair to his shoulders, to his back, and coming to rest on his hips which are still too fucking far away from mine for my liking.

I slide my hands between us as he continues to kiss me with his hands taking over where his mouth had abandoned my poor, lonely tits. Between my legs, I find the treasure I was seeking. I wrap one hand around his shaft to stroke him gently while the other moves to spin his propellers. He groans into my mouth, and I slide my fingers along the length before pumping him faster, keeping up with the rotation of slow then fast as I steer him toward my cylinder. When I’ve lined him up, I pull my mouth away enough to speak. I want him to really fucking see me when I open myself up to him.

“Look at me,” I order him, and his eyes shoot open. Those blue rings and swirling white flecks scald my soul as he scuds forward.

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We stay like that for a moment, his eyes still burning into me as he slowly begins to move. I fling my legs around his hips and lock my ankles behind his back, pulling him even closer to me so my trigger is rubbing dead bang against him. He starts moving faster, my choppy breaths shooting into his mouth each time he swashes into me. I tighten my thighs to lift and meet every advance, our bodies slamming together with bruising force. Crash after fucking crash, each collision brings me closer to the edge, and my walls start tightening around him again. I cry out as my orgasm washes through me like a dam cracking open.

He slows his movements while my insides pulse around him, but he isn’t nearly done with me yet. He swirls us around so I’m straddling him, guiding my hands up to the slats above me from the top bunk. I wrap my fingers around them for leverage and start riding my White Horse. His hips rise to meet my trigger each time my cylinder slides down.

His hands are on my hips, and his eyes are on my tits, watching those bitches bounce as I fuck him with wild abandon. I feel myself coming apart again, but I want him to see me, to see every sliver of this desire scorching through me. It’s all for him.

“Look at me,” I order him again, and his eyes shoot to mine as they had before. I come undone right fucking then, my orgasm tearing through me like a twat tsunami while his eyes are locked to mine. I want to drown in those eyes, bath in them endlessly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he ripples, completely stopping his movements and holding my hips to make me stop too. He glares in warning when my dam continues to crumble rebelliously around his rudder. “I need a fucking second.”

“Like I can really control my orgasm aftershocks,” I clip.

He takes a long, steadying breath, but I’m all done waiting for this fucker, so I reach my hand down to his chest and send a tiny rumble of my earth slut into him where my fingers meet his skin. He grunts, and I think for the briefest moment he might come aboard me to rip my deck a new asshole, but he just smirks.

“Wildly fucking effective,” he splashes, then slaps my butt. Hard. “Giddy-the-fuck-up.”

So, I ride that beautiful bitch until my walls are clamping around him so damn hard my legs buckle when I orgasm again. I collapse on him as pleasure quakes through every inch of my body. He fucks me right through my final release until he’s spilling himself inside me. The warmth of his spill sets off a chain reaction. That cracked to shit dam bursts completely open and floods everything it touches, kissing, licking, biting, and sucking as it gushes through me. That raging, unrestrained river takes me to yet another precipice where I slide right the fuck over the waterfall. I’m falling and falling until I meet the sea of Luke’s eyes as he lifts my chin off his chest to see for himself whether he’s fulfilled his promise.

“You said I could have you,” I suppressive fire. “Do I have you now?”

He kisses my forehead. “You’ve had me for a while.”

I lay back down but shift so I can stay there looking at him. I press my palm to his chest over his heart, spreading out my fingers. I gently release just the tiniest bit of each spark all at once from my fingertips, watching to gauge his reaction.

He smirks. “You do want to be punished.”

I brrrt a laugh. “No, I’m just trying to get you used to it. You’re sort of stuck with me now, and I’m a little fucking extra.”

“That isn’t terrible,” he foams. “The soft stream isn’t an aggressive asshole. It’s like…”

I cock a brow. “Not a dry dick pound fucking your ass?”

“No, thank fuck,” he grunts. “What you’re doing right now is different but not entirely uncomfortable. Sort of like rolling sour candy around my tongue.”

“White Horse likes my sour candy,” I coo, rapidfiring my lashes like a squib.

“Battle Unicorn better be careful I don’t develop a craving for all her spark sluts.”

“That’s what the horn is for,” I quickfire. “To combat cravings where it counts.”

His eye ripples.

“What if I rounded the tip?”

He shrugs like it isn’t completely off the table.

I shoot my water spark into him, and he ebbs contentedly. I hangfire a little fire, earth, and air. He shudders under me, his eyes lighting with desire.

“Again,” he whirlpools.

I double tap, and he groans loudly.

“More,” he begs me.

I start to comply with my little backdoor bitch, but we’re rudely interrupted.

“Can we come back in now?” Aspen outgasses as they enter the room.

“Of all the fucking times I’ve regretted giving up the dark, this is easily top ten,” Luke seiches.

“That sounds like a challenge to make it to number one,” I snick.

I feel the force of their shield surrounding the bed, and Luke splooshes a laugh. “Pays to have Dark Wielder friends.”

I can barely hear Keira flapping her pissers on the other side of the tent I’d made in hopes of needing it for just this reason.

“Looks like I’ve caged you after all,” Luke scuppers, flipping me around so he’s above me with his rudder ready and eager to support that claim.

“You might’ve caged me, White Horse,” I report, “but you’ll never fucking tame me.”

“You promise?” He shifts my thighs apart with his knee so he can press himself closer to my heat.

“Cross my fucking sparks,” I slamfire.

“Speaking of promises, did I make good on mine?”

“Which one?”

“The one where I promised you I’d board you so damn hard you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week without feeling like my plank was still on deck,” he reminds me.

“Well, it wasn’t fucking sweet, and it wasn’t fucking easy,” I dryfire. “The jury’s still hung as all hell about whether it was a glorious fucking storm.”

“Best we sway it then,” he swashes.

“Best we did,” I agree.