His body shuddered with need. He caught at her small waist and tugged her to him, bending his head so he could take her mouth with his. He wasn't as gentle as he'd been the first time, kissing her over and over, making demands, giving himself up to her fire, allowing it to pour down his throat straight to his heart like red-hot magma.
He knew what he was doing taking her inside like that. Letting that slow, thick lava fill every hole, every gap, seal his emptiness with her. He did so willingly. Let her enslave him. Let her claim him. Because he had every intention of doing the same with her. She owned his cock. She also owned the rest of him. He didn't care how it happened; he was grateful it could happen. He had forgotten how to feel, and now emotions were there, genuine, overwhelming him.
He took her mouth gently this time, tender even. "I need to know if you're on birth control. If you're protected. I'm clean, I always make certain."
She swallowed hard, her fingers still claiming his heavy erection. She nodded to let him know she was safe.
He kissed her over and over and then let his mouth drift down her throat to the upper curves of her breasts. "You're going to have to give me back my cock while you take off your skirt, golubushka. I need your body."
He leaned into her, forcing her back to bend slightly so his hands held her up. At the same time, her breasts thrust upward invitingly. She had beautiful breasts, full and round, high above her narrow rib cage and small waist. Her hips flared out. She was toned, keeping herself in good shape, probably because of the work she did. Regardless, he reaped the benefits of her body.
"I don't think so."
He loved that she was reluctant to drop her hand away from him. Her thumb continued to make lazy circles on the broad crown while her fist pulled up and down in a long, leisurely slide that kept his erection rigid and aching with brutal need.
"You give me no choice but to tear it off you." He murmured the warning against her nipple. Licked. Felt her ragged breath. Kissed. Used his lips to brush back and forth. "I don't mind, honey, but if you love that skirt, I wouldn't want to mess it up for you. Don't forget the underwear if you want those as well." It was the only warning he would give her. His mouth settled over her breast, sucked hard, and he used the edge of his teeth for the first time to test her reaction to a bite of pain mixing with the pleasure.
She gasped. Cried out. Her blue eyes went hot with excitement. She pushed closer to him to thrust her breast more fully into his mouth. Offering him more. Yeah, his woman liked that.
She let loose of his shaft, one reluctant finger at a time to drop her hands to her skirt obediently. He moved between her breasts, feeding. Suckling. Using his tongue and teeth to drive her higher. The skirt pooled at her feet and she stepped out, kicking it aside. The moment she did, he took her down to the bed, flat on her back, coming down over top of her.
He didn't waste any time. He was more than hungry for her. He was starving. He had to have her. Taste her. Claim her the same way she'd claimed him. He kissed his way around her breasts, under them, testing her sensitivity there, leaving marks. Each time he did, he got the same response, that needy excitement at the wicked touch of his teeth.
His tongue traced her ribs and then the muscles in her belly, dipped into her belly button and lingered there. He bit her flat stomach, held her down with one hand and used his tongue along the crease of her hip bone and then to the vee of fiery curls at the junction of her legs. She kept herself neatly trimmed, a small strip of curls, just enough for him to nuzzle between lapping at either side of that soft little mound.
Her breathing turned ragged and she squirmed, her hips bucking, her head thrashing, telling him her entire body was sensitive to his touch. Her skin was softer than anything he'd ever felt, but hot, like the inside of her mouth. He knew when he got his cock inside of her she'd burn him up. Still, as much as he wanted to get there, he had to get his mouth on her. He had to stake that claim.
His hands went to her thighs and pulled them apart. Her gaze jumped to his face as he shifted to slide his body between her legs. He was a big man, much larger than she was, and he took some room, forcing her legs wide apart. He kept commanding hands on her as he looked into her eyes, telling her without words what he intended to do. What he wouldn't tolerate. She was giving him this because he needed to make a point, just as she'd given him something, making her point.
"Make me real," she whispered. "Whatever you have to do, Casimir, make me real and make me yours."
His heart actually stuttered in his chest. His cock jerked hard, spilled drops onto the sheets. He smiled, knowing he looked like a hungry wolf. Knowing he was going to devour her, push her so high she would need his cock filling her in order to assuage the burn. He lowered his head, his tongue swiping along her entrance, tasting her, bringing her honey and spice into his mouth. The taste of her burst through his senses, heightening his need, stripping him raw of everything he'd ever been before. She writhed, cried out, her legs trying to wrap him up as her fingers curled into the sheets.
Casimir kept his word to her. He ate her. Devoured her. Licked and suckled and extracted every bit of creamy honeyed liquid he could possibly get from her. He was ruthless, uncaring that she was new to this. He let his control slip more. Held her tighter, not allowing her hips to move an inch, holding her in place for his feast.
It had been all about her, making her slick enough, hot enough so her body would accept his. His good intentions had fallen by the wayside. The more aroused she became, the more addicted he was to her spice. The more he craved the taste of her. Not just her taste, but the need growing in her, coiling hot and bright for him. Only him. There was no ulterior motive for her to be with him. Only that she saw him. Recognized him. Knew exactly who he was and that she belonged to him.
He wanted his tongue to brand her. His teeth. He wanted his cock buried in her, causing skid marks, burning his brand inside her. It was a terrible, selfish need that rose in him, but he didn't care. He pushed her higher until her head thrashed, her breath came in ragged gasps and she moaned his name. Until she was sobbing and pleading for him to be inside her. Until she was nearly insane with arousal, with her need of him.
He pushed a finger into her. So tight. Burning hot. His cock jerked hard, swelled more. Wanting that. Needing that. He tried a second finger and found that was a very tight fit. He bent his head a second time and resumed his feast. He needed her so close, spiraling out of control, that she couldn't do anything other than allow him entrance.
"Casimir. Please. Oh, God, I can't even think. Please. Please. Please. Do something. Anything."
Her sobbing voice told him she was nearly there. He found her clit. Suckled. She screamed and muffled her mouth with her own hand, her body flying apart, rippling with life. He felt the explosion around his tongue and fingers, in the muscles of her belly and down her thighs. Instantly he shifted, lifting her bottom higher, going up on his knees, pulling her legs around him so he could lodge the head of his cock in her slick, burning entrance.
She kept moving, driving him wild. He had to clench his teeth, keep his control, pushing slowly but steadily into her scalding hot, tight depths. Her inner muscles closed around the sensitive head of his cock, trying to push him out, yet squeezing around him, holding him tighter than any fist possibly could.
"Relax for me, Giacinta. You're so tight it feels like paradise, but it's going to take some work to get this right. I don't want to hurt you."
"You have to be inside me. I need you in me right now, Casimir."
She tried for him. He could see her make the effort. Taking a breath. Forcing it out. He pushed forward as she took another breath.
"That's it. Open your eyes, golubushka. Look at me. Keep your eyes on mine." He could help her if she let him.
Lissa swallowed hard and forced her eyes to open. His face was purely carnal. Wholly sensual. Every line cut deep. His eyes liquid silver. His gaze held hers, captured her, giving her courage, so that she melted into him, giving herself
to him. Letting him brand her his, knowing this moment changed her forever.
She was on fire. Burning from the inside out. She'd never known a person could be so stimulated, feel so much pleasure while needing so much more. Everything he did added to that burning need. The craving. She felt almost insane with arousal. She was used to the feeling of fire. The way it burned. The way it could make her crave more. But she had never felt anything like this before. Never.
Red-hot flames rushed over her body, her breasts, between her thighs, roaring with a life of its own so that it felt as if a fireball careened through her bloodstream and lodged deep inside her core, to burn out of control. His invasion was slow and steady, stretching, burning, impaling her on a red-hot brand, so thick she was certain she was going to die before he made his way inside.
She lifted her hips, wanting more, but frightened that if he gave her more she would come apart and never be put back together. She felt every inch of him as he pushed deeper into her body, her tight muscles reluctantly giving way under his steady insistence. She gasped for air. Burned. Writhed. Tried to get away. Tried to impale herself deeper. The feeling was brutal. Magnificent. Terrifying. Everything she'd ever wanted.
"Giacinta." He hissed her name between his teeth. Gave a soft groan that she felt in her deepest core. "You're so hot. Scorching hot."
His tone was harsh, and she could only stare helplessly up at his glittering, hooded eyes. The stamp of sensuality on his face only fed her hunger for him. He leaned forward, over her, pushing deeper, another inch stretching and burning, her muscles clamping hard, massaging, dragging him in, pushing him out. Allowing the invasion while she thrashed under him.
"Hold still, malyshka," he whispered, his voice no more than a groan. "Be still. Just relax."
There was no way to relax. She couldn't get air. She tried to keep her hips from bucking off the bed, but it was impossible with the fire burning her from the inside out. The slow movement of his body as he bent over her, drawing up her knees, forcing her thighs wider, his cock driving deeper, slowly and then stopping abruptly drove her wild.
His tongue brushed over her right nipple and lightning forked straight to her sex so that the walls of her sheath convulsed around him, holding tight. His lips kissed, his teeth tugged and then his mouth was around her soft breast, drawing it deep, his tongue working her nipple so that the whip of lightning became pure fire until she was certain she couldn't take the need consuming her one more moment.
There was a burst of pain and then he was fully seated in her. All the way. Every inch. She could feel him deep. Bumping her womb. A steel spike invading, taking her over, branding her from the inside out with his own particular fire - one she recognized. He was fire as well. Bound to the same element. The flames ran deep along with the passion. He had buried his true nature just as she had. Her body recognized his. They melted together, sharing skin. Sharing one body.
He moved again and a lash of flames burst over her. She suppressed a cry at the pleasure swamping her, and her muscles clamped down like a vise around his thick cock. His breath hissed out and his eyes burned right through her, claiming her. The lust there, the emotions swamped her. She wasn't certain she could live through wanting him. Just like this. The bite of pain, the searing pleasure. The man branding her just as she'd branded him.
"I can't hold on if you move. I've never lost control, Giacinta, but it's slipped so far away from me and I don't know if I can..."
"Don't. I don't want your control, Casimir. I want the real you. Let go. Let go with me." Lissa wanted him on any terms. She wanted the real man. The real body. Not the one his handlers had forced him to become, but the one under all those masks.
"You're not ready to handle that," he denied, his lips traveling to her chin to sink his teeth there, biting, nibbling, his tongue soothing the sting. "Don't move, golubushka," he ordered, his voice so harsh she winced. His hips ground against her, then retracted and plunged again.
She writhed under him. Bucked her hips. Wrapped her legs around him, driving her body up to his, watching his face, the lines carved so deep, the molten eyes igniting. She was wild, and she wanted him the same way. She wanted him to lose all that discipline and control drilled into him. She wanted to be the one to do that.
With a harsh groan, he shifted his body again, his hands at her hips, holding her, pinning her so that he could pound into her, burying himself deep. She cried out, shocked at the pleasure streaking through her. Shocked at his sudden fury. Hungry for more. Desperate for more.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, Casimir. Make me yours."
His gaze drifted possessively over her face. Devouring her. The look took her last breath, sent shivers through her body. He looked... ruthless. Implacable. So sensual she thought he was the epitome of the word.
He bent his head and took her mouth, so gently it turned her heart over, made it stutter in her chest. A million butterflies took wing in her stomach. The action of his body shifted his cock inside her, caressing her inside as he'd kissed her mouth. When he lifted his head, his gaze burning over her, her mouth continued to grow hot, just as her feminine sheath did. Scalding. Scorching. Hotter and hotter. She gave a low keening moan. The sound seemed to be a catalyst.
Casimir gripped her hips hard and plunged into her hard and fast. She felt the burning stretch along with a bite of pain mixing with a million other sensations driving her up higher. His hips took on a rhythm, a driving force, slamming into her, jolting her body, jolting her senses until she writhed and cried out, pleading, but for what, she wasn't certain.
Deep inside, the tension coiled tighter and tighter, flames burning through her, white-hot now. All the while his cock slammed home, filling her, stretching her, the friction so strong she thought she might burst into flames. Still he didn't stop, just gripped her tight and continued the merciless rhythm.
The tension continued to build in her, winding so tight, a harsh, desperate burn that refused to release, refused to ease. She whispered his name, fighting the fear that threatened to consume her right along with the pleasure that bordered on pain. He'd been right, she wasn't ready for this. She had no idea it could even be this way. So desperate inside. The endless, terrible pressure coiling tighter and tighter with no end in sight.
Her head wouldn't still, thrashing back and forth on the pillow. Her body writhed, fought, strained against his. That steel spike seemed to have grown, never stopping, never letting her catch her breath, driving deep, streaking fire through her with every stroke, pounding, while her body bathed his cock in hot moisture, yet the erotic pressure refused to ease even the tiniest bit.
She arched into him, needing more, always more, yet at the same time, fear built along with the brutal pressure. "Casimir." She whispered his name, uncertain if she was pleading for more or if she wanted him to stop. There was no controlling her body, her hips lifting to meet those brutal, magnificent strokes, needing this. Needing him filling her. Stretching her. Building the flames until it was a wildfire raging out of control, consuming them both - and it would consume them. She had no doubt and fear gripped her, every bit as strong as the terrible, relentless hunger.
"Don't fight me, Giacinta. Let go. Let yourself go."
She hadn't known until that moment that she was. "I'm afraid."
"I've got you. Trust me. Give yourself to me. All of you. I've got you."
His voice was harsh. Husky. Thick with a sensuality that shocked her. His eyes glittered like molten silver, moving over her face, commanding her. Soothing her. Claiming her. He didn't stop moving. If anything, he increased the fury of the strokes, impaling her over and over, a harsh, pounding rhythm that drove her into a frenzy of need. Of lust. The sensations were so strong, the pressure building, tension coiling, so that tendrils of fear burned as intensely as passion raged.
Casimir rose above her, his face a mask of pure carnal sensuality. Lissa heard the sound of their bodies coming together in a furious symphony. Her ragged breathing and pleadin
g gasps punctuated each savage stroke as he slammed home, again and again. She heard herself, her cries rising in direct proportion to the firestorm building until the conflagration began to consume her.
He moved his body, a subtle difference, but the hot stroke of his cock created a searing, bursting friction directly over her clit and the fire roared through her. Fast. Wild. Wave after wave. Out of control. Her sheath came alive, gripping and milking, the orgasm rushed through her, spreading like a forest fire up to her stomach, to her breasts, down to her thighs, until she had to jam her fist in her mouth to muffle her scream of sheer pleasure.
Casimir buried his face in her neck, his teeth on her shoulder as his body erupted into hot jets of seed, filling her. She was scorching hot, squeezing him like a vise, taking every drop from him until he saw lights dancing behind his eyes. Never, not ever, had his release been like this. So good. Ecstasy. She took him to a place he hadn't known existed, and now that he did, he wanted to stay there.
He blanketed her body, knowing he was too heavy for her, but he liked her under him as he struggled for air. The feel of her silky skin melting under his was something he wasn't quite ready to give up. He nuzzled her neck. Inhaled the combined scent of both of them. Licked the small spot behind her ear and then left a trail of kisses along her delicate jaw to the corner of her mouth.