Descent 15

I had thought I would be upset at the idea. Twenty four hours. Kept waiting for myself to cry. There are times, in the past, when I would have given anything to simply die. When I thought that I would have to die, that there could be no way I could live in that much pain. There are times, even now, when I think I AM dead already, and I’m just too stupid to realize it, and should just lie down somewhere and be done with it.

Twenty four hours. On the last day, it seems like the little things that really do it for you. Sitting in the cold of this ship, holding my coffee. The feel of it hitting my empty stomach, warming all of me, from the inside out. Riddick has fed me. Sure, we’re not supposed to be cavemen anymore, but any woman worth her salt that says that the idea of a man providing for her in the most basic sense doesn’t float her boat is lying to you. Then there’s Dog. Really am going to have to come up with a better name for him than that. I’ve never had a dog before, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

That’s part of it. Sitting here across from him, enjoying his company thoroughly. Watch while he plays with his steak at first, before succumbing to hunger and wolfing it down. Slide my plate over to him. I told him there was no way I could finish it.

So I’ve been fed, and cared for. Now for what I really want. Wait til he’s done. I can feel myself wet already, waiting for him. I can honestly say I’ve never wanted anything so much. He’s still worried about hurting me. I’m beyond worrying about it. Maybe it’s a last day thing.

“Fuck me senseless, Riddick. Make me forget the rest of the day.”

Small snort, as all his breath comes out at once, through his nose. Getting up at the same time, coming around the island, pulling me to him. Pulling me off the stool, his hands in my hair. Lips crushing down on mine, our tongues mate in the middle. Pushing me back against the cool steel of the island. I don’t feel it, all I feel is him, his hard body promising that I’ll forget everything today.

Pulling at his clothes, any notion of delayed gratification or foreplay thrown out. All I’m wearing is a shirt, pull it off. Was it him, or me, I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter. Hands sliding over me, pulling at my nipples, squeezing my breasts. Sliding roughly over my belly, my skin on fire where he touches me. His pants off, fall around his ankles. Enough time to worry about boots later. This isn’t making love, this is pure primal fucking, even if it is with a purpose. His deep growl, muffled against my mouth. Stroking down over his hard length, feeling my growl answer his, as his fingers ignore my swollen clitoris, moving farther back, sinking deep.

More than I can stand, break the kiss, push him back away from me, his face puzzled for a moment, until I turn, bracing myself against the steel counter. Turn back to him, his body savage and primal and hard. His fingers in his mouth to lick my wetness from them. He stops himself, with an incredible effort, his voice ragged and hoarse with passion.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Anise…”

Arch my ass back in answer, reaching between my thighs, grasping his cock hard enough to hurt. A quick hard stroke, at the last pushing the tip into slick wetness.

“Fuck me hard Riddick, I need this. I need you.”

Like any man needed more of an invitation from a woman. His hands pull at my waist, slamming up into me. Brace my hands on the counter, pressing back and up. Driving so hard into me I see stars. Both screaming like animals, his roar deep but no less insistent, as primal, as mine. I’m so wet I’m dripping on the floor, watch the splatters, my head down now, dropping my chest lower, and lower, so he can fill even more of me than I would have thought possible. Pushing back against him now, screaming out at every hard thrust.

I can’t breathe, can’t gauge the time between one orgasm and the next anymore. At some point my legs start to shake too much to hold me. His arm pulls my up at the waist, pulling me even closer to him, fucking me so hard he lifts me off the ground. His chest pressing into my back now. One hand over mine, leaning on the counter. Harder and harder, both of us breathing in ragged gasps now.

Reach down with one hand, touch my painfully swollen clitoris. A slow stroke, growing faster, in time with his every thrust into me. The scream starts somewhere low in my belly, my back arching painfully, opening even more of me up to him. He’s losing his rhythm, as he starts to come, hard. His roar echoes in the room. His last thrust drives into me, pulling me to him with his arm, as the final scream is pulled from me. Coming so hard it won’t all happen at once, but hits me in successive waves. It would bring me to my knees, if he wasn’t holding me. Spent, my head hangs, resting on the side of the counter, gasping for breath. Watch as our combined come flows out of us, still joined, down my legs. Dripping in fat drops off my toe, my legs still held off the floor by his arm.

He helps me up, still too shaky to stand on my own. Sit back on the stool, facing him this time. We’re both breathing too hard to kiss. So we stand, holding each other, exhausted, until we can breath again. His hands on either side of my face, looking intently, making sure I’m not hurt. A tentative kiss.

“I’m all right, Riddick. Give me a minute to get my breath, and then I want more.”

A deep laugh, rumbling through me, as he presses me to his chest. His hands on my back, pulling me in to him.

“There’s going to be nothing left of you by the time we land.”

“Hell of a way to go.”

© 20 Jan 2006, 17:21

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