Page 60 of Collected By the Crow

She made a guttural sound that couldn’t have come from a human. He took hold of her calves, pushing them up until she was spread open like a holiday feast. His cock, wet on both sides with their fluids, prodded at her opening, then pulled away. She whined, both hating and loving the way her gaped hole was affected by the open air, fluttering hopelessly. When he prodded her again, he sank the wide tip of his cock inside but held her still by the ankles.

“Oh my fuck.” She’d never realized how filling the tip of his cock was.

She’d never felt pleasure like this. He lowered her down an inch by moving her ankles. His cock filled her with slow, agonizing centimeters, until their hips matched up and another wave of orgasm wrested control of her body.

The blindfold slipped over her head at the same time the restraints were undone. She looked down to see their union, where her torn black panties outlined the spot her pussy stretched around his girth.

“Do you see the way your cunt needs me?” Qadaire spoke, his tone still nearly a stranger’s, full of heady desire and something so dark it was almost menacing.

She loved it. He’d been coming into his own since they’d been together, and she was slowly seeing how sensual he truly was. Once he’d embraced his multiple limbs and saw how much pleasure they could bring her, his mindset had followed suit. Now, he said the most filthy things, knowing he drove her wild.

“See the way you cling to me? You are so beautiful wrapped around my gray cock. Let me see you unravel around me, dewdrop.”

His thumb vibrated over her clit. A lubricated finger teased her asshole, swirling around the taut skin and making it flutter. His mouth captured her nipple again, simultaneously driving his cock deeper. This damn chair, it had superpowers. She shouted his name as yet another orgasm pulsed through her, building until it crashed around her like the waves of a tempest. Q held her slack body and battered her insides. Braced with one knee on the floor, he slammed into her aching core over and over, two fingers now fucking her asshole in the same rhythm.

“Breathtaking. You are breathtaking when you come for me.”

He slowed their rhythm, allowing her body to come down from the high. Through the haze, she saw him pick up the glass paperweight that encased purple poppies. The poppies from his greenhouse. Her skin zinged with excitement. He’d made the glass memento with a hint of magic. It could morph into any shape, from a paperweight to a flower sculpture.

It morphed into a tapered cylinder, the tip smaller in circumference than the base. He rubbed it against his cloaca, coating it with viscous lubricant.

“Let me ease your suffering, dewdrop,” he said in that soothing timbre.

“Please, please!”

He kissed the fold of her lovehandle, making her tilt her hips. Her body loosened to accept it and the cool glass slid into her ass with ease. It morphed inside her, changing shape to fill every crevice, with a notch at the end to keep it sturdy in place. Her eyes lolled back in her head, her arms falling to her sides even without the restraints. When he started to move again, she was nothing but a rag doll.

Was it possible she would reach another orgasm? By this point, her synapses were firing rapidly all over. There was no part of her body, inside or out, that wasn’t tingling. It felt so good it was almost painful, and she was helpless, utterly reliant on Qadaire to carry her through.

Another orgasm chased her at the end of that thought, bringing with it a renewed energy. Cass fisted her hands in the feathers of his lower back and tugged, helping him pound into her until he went rigid. She dropped her feet to the floor and rose. He followed her cue and leaned back on the smaller hump of the chair, letting her ride him. She rolled her hips in tune with her rise and fall, using her inner muscles to squeeze his cock. She reached behind her ass and stroked his balls.

“I’m so fucking empty, Qadaire. Fill me with your come,” she commanded. With the roles reversed, Qadaire turned to a puddle beneath her.

As her ass relaxed around the toy, it expanded, stretching her hole in preparation. She impaled herself on him over and over, grinding her clit against the dripping ridges of his vent. Their thighs smacked wetly, strings of clear liquid connecting their bodies. She watched his tortured expression shatter at the same moment he flooded her with heavy ropes of come.

Another orgasm taunted her from the depths. She kept riding him until she was too full to keep moving, and the orgasm clawed its way through her body, leaving them both panting.

She collapsed back on the chaise, but the venom wasn’t done with her yet. Her hips continued to move like they had a mind of their own.

Qadaire

Qadaire understood what was happening to his poor little dewdrop. While he had never performed a Turning and had been born a vampire, he’d learned much from the texts he’d read to prepare for this moment.

Cassandra writhed against him, her belly full of his seed and still wanting. She was over the worst of it, but she had another hole that needed attention. The feeling of emptiness shouldn’t be painful while he was inside her, but it would be incessant until the venom wore off. He hoped the glass toy was helping hold the pain of emptiness away, but he knew her asshole wouldn’t be satisfied without the flesh of its master.

“Q, I-I still—”

“I know, dewdrop.” He kissed the spot between her gorgeous, firm breasts, which had slid to the sides, nipples erect. He nuzzled her there for a moment, giving his sensitive cock a few more seconds of recovery.

He maneuvered her right leg over his waist to join her left and placed his upper right arm on her back to coax her onto her side. With one left hand returning to her breast, he used the other to stealthily slip his cock from her, watching with rapt hunger as a thick trickle of white gush from her cunt. He swiped his cock head through it while swiftly replacing his cock with his fingers. His seed was wet against his knuckles as he trapped it inside.

“Please,” she begged as he rubbed his cock head through the dribbles of spilled seed, coaxing them toward her asshole and shallowly pressing it inside. He rubbed himself against her puckered hole, watching it contract and flutter with need. He gathered lubricant seeping steadily from his bump and coated his cock, then gathered more and did the same to her asshole, dipping two fingers inside.

“Oh, fuck, please!”

Qadaire wanted to grin but remained vigilant. Nine rings, this woman was perfect. There were days he still thought himself unworthy of her love, but he let that worry make him a better man. She made him a better man.

“I love you, dewdrop.” He pressed into her ass slowly, their bodies so slippery that it slid right past the band of grasping muscle. He relished the low, deep groan that escaped her, a completely different sound than when he filled her cunt. “Cassandra. I will always take care of you.”

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