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Burn in Hail(24)

By:Lani Lynn Vale


"Get out of your head," he ordered. "And focus on me."

I licked my dry lips, unsure what in the hell to say.

I had been in my head … but did he have to almost bite my flappy bits? Jesus!

I would've said something more about his lack of finesse, but he pushed  my legs further apart and took both of his big hands and spread me wide.

I felt exposed, and I wasn't a hundred percent sure that I liked him being eye level with my junk.

"Tate, seriously." I tried to close my legs.

He was having none of it, and stood up.

That's when he produced a fucking rope out of nowhere, and practically hog tied my legs open.

It took him a matter of milliseconds.

"What … "

"Keep them open, I said. I won't tie you, I said," he teased, running  his rough palm down the length of my spine. "Do you think I'm bluffing  now?"

I tested the rope, tugging lightly on it with my right leg, only to feel  my left leg give instead of getting the gap between my thighs to  lessen.

"Untie me!" I ordered, suddenly very nervous.

"Negative, Nancy."

"My name's not Nancy, you fricker."

"Fricker, ohhh," he teased. "I'm shaking in my boots over here, pretty girl."

I growled low in my throat and looked at him instead of the headboard  which I had been staring at, and what I saw on his face was enough to  cause me to freeze.

"Why do you look like you're about to kill something?"

His eyes rose to meet mine.

"I'm trying to decide if I should eat you, or fuck you," he admitted. "I  want to taste you, but my cock is hard, and eating you will make my  need even worse. That pussy, and you, will definitely feel ‘killed' when  I'm done with it."

As if in answer, he fisted his cock and caused my eyes to leave his.

They traveled down the chiseled length of his body to land on his cock, and he was correct. It did look quite angry.

The head was a ruddy red, and the length of it was pulsing with veins.

It was seriously the veiniest-is that even a word?-cock I'd ever seen.  If it was a word, veiny would describe it. Jesus, the man was definitely  gifted in the cock department, and if the time came that I ever had to  compare my current love interest to him, it wouldn't even be a fair  comparison.

"You're staring at it like you're scared," he told me. "You don't need to be scared."

And I must've solved some inner debate he'd been having with himself,  because he dropped to his knees between my splayed open thighs, and  dropped his mouth down to my pussy to place a single chaste kiss against  the heart of me.

The moment his lips touched me there, I felt my hips jerk down and my thighs quiver in anticipation.

"God," I breathed out shakily.

Then I felt the scruff of his beard on the inside of my thighs, perilously close to everything that I wanted him to touch.

His fingers. His beard. His tongue. His goddamn nose. I didn't care.  Anything at this point would do, as long as it belonged to him.

The anticipation was killing me.

His stupid finger started to swirl around in my juices, searching, but not touching anything important.

My hips were moving along with his finger, trying to follow it to get  him to where I most wanted him. Every time I moved, though, he'd move,  too.

Around and round he went, touching but not touching where I needed, lulling me into an almost mindless need.

My eyes closed, and my fists clenched, and I waited for him to do something-anything.

Then … he did.

His finger penetrated me, and he didn't stop until the webbing of his fingers was up against the slick flesh of my sex.

My breath left me in a gasp, and my pussy clenched down on his fingers.

"Your cunt's so pretty," he whispered.

I felt his breath on the inside of my thighs, his beard tickling my pussy lips.

Then he curled his finger, and I forgot how to breathe. How to even function.         

     



 

Because he'd touched something that felt like he'd hooked my vagina up  to a freakin' electric jumper box and shot ten thousand volts into me.

My clit pulsed, my vagina clenched, and a keening moan fell free of my lips.

"Goddamn," he grunted.

Then his other hand moved to my pubic bone, and he pressed down lightly, causing my clit to press against the heel of his hand.

And when he curled his finger down again, scraping something fucking  phenomenal inside of me, I cried out as a burst of lightning tore  through me.

My pussy clenched on his finger, and the orgasm slammed into me so fast, that I had no time to prepare.

One second I was there, and the next I was in an alternate universe where I was a slave to the sensations inside of me.

Things pulsed and clenched, my thighs quivered. The bite of the rope on  the insides of my thighs where I pulled on the rope was a sharp sting  that only added to the feelings I couldn't quite control.

"I'm sure you're nice and wet," I distantly heard him say, "but I'm  going to lick you, taste you, and fuck you with my tongue. That way  there's no question."

That way there's no question.

What he was going to do was kill me. He was going to lick me to death. Death by orgasm sounded like a perfect way to go, though.

What I thought couldn't get better, though, did. The moment his mouth  hit me, and his tongue pushed inside of my still pulsing vagina, I  realized that there was so much more to this sex thing.

I didn't think I'd ever get to a point where I'd get used to the  feelings, because this was one thing that I never, ever wanted to get  used to.

I was on fire. My nerve endings were electric, and my breathing was at the point where I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

The more he licked and sucked, the higher I climbed, until I was at the point where I wasn't sure I'd be able to take anymore.

Then he pulled back, stopped touching me completely, and moved to stand between my thighs.

"Need you so fucking much." he growled, leaning over me.

I lifted my hips as much as I could, inviting him to take what he wanted.

He didn't disappoint.

The moment that he was pressed against me and slid inside, I felt like everything in my world was right.

He just kept coming, and coming, and coming, until finally his hips met my ass.

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned.

I couldn't do a thing.

My body seized, and I wanted him to hold still at the same time I wanted  him to unleash the power of his thrusts on my unsuspecting hips.

"Please," I cried.

I didn't know what I was asking for.

Honestly, at this point, I wasn't sure I cared.

As long as he did something.

I felt the pull of the rope, and suddenly the bite of the soft material  left my thighs, giving him the ability to pull me up to my knees and get  a better angle.

Oh, and let's not forget the fact that he was able to slide even further inside.

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus," I whispered. "Oh, God."

His hands went to my hips, and he pushed them away.

I braced for it, knowing what was coming next, and cried out when he forced himself back inside.

Over and over, more and more, until my pussy couldn't take it any longer.

I came. So hard that my eyes rolled back into the back of my head, and I was no longer able to hold myself up on my elbows.

My hips stayed where they were by the power in Tate's hands, but my face  met the mattress, and I didn't even have the strength to turn it so I  could draw a full breath of air.

Despite all the other orgasms he'd given me that day, he still accomplished the impossible.

By the time that he started to grunt his release as his body stiffened behind me, my body also followed the same path.

He hit the bed beside me, finally releasing me, but I couldn't even turn my face to tell him that he'd broken me.

I could do nothing but lie there, sated and so freakin' confused, that I couldn't move.

Could do nothing but concentrate on my breathing.

Seconds … minutes … maybe even hours later, I felt the hair at my face slide  back, exposing my face and eyes to the harsh bedroom lights.

Once I could see from the surprise, my eyes found Tate's smug expression.

"What?" I muttered.

He grinned. "Nothing."

I rolled my eyes, but still didn't move.

"If you want me to leave, you're going to have to wait for my legs to start working again."

His grin kicked up at one side, making my heart skip a beat.

"I don't want you to leave, pretty girl," he explained. "I want you to  stay right here, warm and limp, and let me continue to enjoy the view."

I smiled weakly at him.         

     



 

"I guess I could do that for you."

But when I can walk, I'm going to get the hell out of here as fast as I can.

Why?

Because something that good-Tate-wouldn't last. Tate and his amazingness  in bed … yeah, that was going nowhere fast. There was no way that I'd  keep his interest long enough for me to keep his attention solely on me.

My morose thoughts had me recovering faster than I would have liked, and  soon I found myself not only able to move, but also able to sit up.

My thighs burned, and when I looked down, I saw the rope burn there.

My finger went down to trace the lines where the rope had crossed my  thigh. Tomorrow, I'd have a raw mark there, but I wasn't upset about it.  If I was being honest, I found it hot as hell.