Princely Passions 2(100)

Going fast and without a trace of mercy, he keeps fucking me through my orgasm, my mind imprisoned in pleasure’s peak and not allowed to come down. I’m grabbing the bed hard, my knuckles white from the strength I’m using, as my body moves in submission to his thrusts.

I don’t even know if I’m still screaming. I don’t know if I’m moaning. I know nothing. Pleasure has raged through me and made me blind, deaf, and plucked me out of this existence. And, with each thrust of his, that disconnect from the real world becomes even bigger.

Thunder and lightning crashing inside of me, I come again, my body collapsing on the bed like crumpled paper. I tremble and shake as, finally, he pulls his cock out of me. I still feel his long fingers on my lower back, my whole skin feeling as if it were on fire. Because, in a sense, it really is—all of me is on fire. My body has gone through the flames of ecstasy and survived the trip, barely, but still.

I take a deep breath, my muscles still twitching as if I’m having a seizure, and slowly roll to the side. I force my eyes open and look at Derek. There’s mischievousness flickering behind his eyes, almost like a threat, and that makes my heart pick up the pace and start drumming louder again.

With two fingers under my chin, he makes me look straight into his eyes, and then smiles at me. He leans forward, and then gently brushes his lips against mine, my body still reeling from all the pleasure and destruction he inflicted upon me.

“Tired already?” he says with a smirk, his long fingers running down my neck and tracing the uphill curve of my breasts. He softly pinches my right nipple, a moan leaving my lips the moment he does it, and then lets both his hands run down my body to my knees. Still grinning, he pushes my knees aside, his hungry eyes wandering to between my legs, and then goes down on his knees.

I don’t even bother responding to his question. Tired? I wouldn’t even put it in such terms. I’m utterly and completely spent. But, of course, if he’s still willing to go for more… Who am I to deny it? It’s not like being tired has ever stopped me from doing anything. And, besides, Derek is one of a kind. I’m not letting this moment go to waste. As such, I do nothing as he places his lips on my knees, and then starts to gently kiss my leg, always moving toward my inner thighs.

Somehow, my body is pushing through exhaustion. My heart has regained its rhythm, pounding hard inside of my chest as it forces a blend of adrenaline, endorphins, and pure ecstasy to rage through me. Each times his lips touch my skin a slight shiver goes up my spine, like a small whisper of anticipation. As he approaches my inner thighs, my hands go to his hair, and he reacts by lunging forward, attacking me like a famished predator. He wraps his lips around my battered pussy, sucking my pussy folds and flicking his tongue at me. I curl my fingers in his hair, pulling harshly on stray locks, but he doesn’t even react. He simply keeps licking me, spears of mind-numbing pleasure piercing my mind each time he flicks his tongue against my clit.

How many times have I already come? Did I beat some kind of personal record? God, I can hardly believe that he’s still between my thighs, sucking and licking my sensitive pussy after fucking me like no one has ever done before. I didn’t even know guys like Derek Lowell existed. They were too impressive to be real. I couldn’t be gladder that I was proven wrong.

He quickly derails my train of thought by sliding a finger inside of me in a hook motion, his fingertip touching my G-spot and applying that perfect maddening pressure. I sway my hips from side to side, something fierce and intense bubbling up to my mind’s surface. He doesn’t stop me from moving. Instead, he accompanies my movements with his mouth, wrapping his lips around my clit as he slides one more finger inside of my pussy.

Gritting my teeth, I prepare for the final explosion, my body already anticipating an orgasm so powerful I’m not even sure if I’m going to survive it. Derek keeps sliding his fingers in and out of me at a steady pace, moving them upward until they touch my G-spot and then back out again. He does it over and over again, an old familiar pressure mounting inside of me.

“Oh, God…” I moan. I’m going to squirt, I really am. I pull on his hair, trying to force him back, but he resists me. He merely looks up at me, these eyes of him brimming with sin, and starts to go even harder. I throw my head back, surrendering to the inevitable, and close my eyes. “Oh, fuck…”

I scream as loud as I can, impossible flames of pleasure washing over me. It’s as if my body is dissolving, flesh and bones just a detail of my existence. My nerve endings are being scorched, bright lights exploding behind my closed eyelids. I feel something inside of me stirring and then, like a dam bursting, I squirt all over his face.