A little over four hours is all I’ve got. We’re both exhausted. Looking up at her, straddling my lap again, my hands on her hips. Her hands are on my chest, her chin nestled into them. Neither of us has moved in what feels like forever. Her head tilts a little to the side, her mop of tangles brushing my nipple. That grin is back.
“Got one more in you, Riddick?”
“There are quicker ways to kill a man, Anise.” She’s going to kill me, but, as she said, it’s a hell of a way to go.
“Not nearly as much fun though.”
I’d say something, but the only sound she’s got out of me is a groan. Slipping between my thighs, curled up between my legs. Started to harden just at the thought of her wanting me again. Still soft enough that she can take me in fully, her lips and teeth pressing the base. It doesn’t last long, and she can’t take all of me in her mouth when I’m hard.
So she switches. Stroking my head with one wet hand, mimicking the actions of her mouth. Slide over, a stroke across my head, a trace of fingernails, back down and squeeze. Her lips and tongue trace a line down the underside, a nip with her teeth at the base making me want to scream. Not in a bad way, either. A tongue over my balls. Stop her when her free hand slips back over my perineum. I don’t want to come that fast. Knowing how tired I am, I might never get it up again. She’ll be the death of me.
Pull her back up to my waist, my hand not letting go of her hair. I love the taste of her, of both of us, in her mouth. My salty to her sweet.
“You wet enough?”
“See for yourself.”
Raises into a crouch above me, pulling at my lip with her teeth, before dropping her head to my neck, nipping with those little sharpened teeth. If I wasn’t hard before, I am now. I never looked at her as just an animal before, always saw her as a woman, even at the first. But there’s still a lot of animal in her. Damn, she’s sexy as hell.
Slide my hand over her breast, her hip. She winces, at touching her clitoris. Hold her head up from my neck, continuing down past wet, very wet, folds.
“Am I hurting you?” Hold her eyes with mine for a moment, to be sure. Stopping would be hell, but I’ve got two hands, I can take care of it myself if I have to. I don’t want to hurt her. More than anything, I don’t want to hurt her.
“I’m all right, Riddick, it’s just more, a lot more, than I’m used to.”
I let my finger slide out of her, reluctantly. Hold my cock for her, let her push back into me. A small gasp at the touch, her eyes close. She just takes the tip, sliding in and back, an inch at a time. I want to buck up into her, but let her take what she wants when she wants it, holding myself still for her. She’s soaked, and on fire inside, the heat of her making it hard for me to think straight.
She eases back into me, an excruciating inch at a time, stops, withdraws, another inch. Which is why I never liked this position too much. Don’t much care for a woman having that much control over me. Fuck, I’ll get over it. Hold her hair back from her face, her eyes closed, biting her lip. That soft low moan, getting sharper as she reaches the bottom of her stroke. Holding, her internal muscles squeezing me, pulling back. She does the same thing with her mouth, when she blows me.
Her nipples pull back a little, no longer grazing my chest. Her hand on my chest, pushing all the way back, to the point it’s painful. Small circle of her hips driving me even deeper into her. Don’t know how that’s possible. That little crease between her eyebrows, a small movement of her hips. A ripple of muscle inside, a wave that pulls at me, deeper.
“Hold onto me, Riddick.”
She holds one of my hands, putting the other on her hip. Leans back, making sure I won’t drop her, leaning back and holding my thigh, just for balance. My hand holding her is the only thing keeping her from falling. Raise up on her thighs, almost to the point of withdrawal, easing slow back over me. Keeps the pace slow enough where she can keep control. Hold her hip, buck up into her. Maybe letting a woman have so much control over me isn’t such a bad thing afterall.
She’s beautiful to watch, to listen to. Feel her losing control, her hand straining in mine, the only thing bracing her, riding me harder. Her back starting to arch, her head thrown back. Her cries insistent, short and sharp, faster now, the way I like it. Push her hips, driving up into her at the bottom. Watch the flush bloom down her throat, her chest, racing in a line of fire down to her belly. Beautiful.
Her deep sexy voice, torn from her in a ragged gasp, crying out my name. Everything goes still in my head, that fire in my belly, a dying star that pulls everything else in me to it. Her deep flutter, pulling me to the very centre of her, as I come hard. “…Anise..”
A soft whimper. Hold her back, help her forward. Push her hips back, so she can’t withdraw. I want to stay like this, inside her. Her head on my chest. Stroke her back, pull her to me. I don’t have enough time. Not enough time.
© 27 Jan 2006, 16:39