Page 54 of The Girl and the Cobra

Pulling my mouth off hers, I run kisses down her neck, over her shoulder, and I continue trailing kisses along her collarbone, up until my mouth reaches her chest, where her tits heave with heavy anticipation.

I take a nipple into my mouth and run my tongue along it, over it, around it, pebbling it into a hard point while Mabel squirms and stifles her moans—as if she’s trying to be quiet for some ridiculous reason.

Pulling my mouth off her, I give her an order: “I want to hear you, Mabel. I want to hear every single sound you make. Don’t you dare be quiet.” As if to make sure she’ll listen to me and be loud, I massage both her tits and tweak both nipples under my thumbs.

Mabel writhes and lets out a breathy moan with a full pair of lungs behind it.

My cock twitches at the sound. Fuck, yeah, that’s what I want to hear. The noises she makes really get me going. I could survive alone on the sounds that come out of that sweet mouth.

I return my attention to her tits, paying an equal amount of time to both, never favoring one over the other. Whichever one my mouth isn’t currently on has a hand massaging it, and when I switch over, so does my hand. The sounds Mabel makes tell me what she likes most.

When it’s time to move on from her chest, I leave them each with a sloppy kiss before I continue heading down her body. I leave a line of kisses along her stomach, and I don’t stop until I reach that tempting place between her legs. My hands spread apart her thighs. Light would be good right about now so that I could see her in her full glory, but I can imagine it well enough.

The pink slits. The slickness. That tiny nub of flesh currently calling my name.

I lower myself between her legs, getting comfy. I plan on being here a long time—time enough to give her an orgasm or three, to make that tight space inside her wetter than it’s ever been.

My mouth latches onto her, and the very moment my tongue runs along the side of her clit, Mabel moans such a deep-throated sound it nearly drives me crazy. Crazier than I already am, anyway. It’s more than obvious she’s never been touched like this before, never had a mouth worshiping every part of herbody—and that’s good. It means I don’t have to send anyone to an early death.

A wrong thought, a thought I shouldn’t have, but when it comes to Mabel, fuck, I just can’t help myself.

I learn what she likes—she favors the right side of her clit; her body squirms a lot more when I put my focus there. She doesn’t like a lot of pressure directly on it. Under my tongue, that nub starts to swell, and along with it comes more squirming on Mabel’s part. More moaning. More arching of her back.

Truly, once she lets herself go, it doesn’t take long at all. It’s as if her body is in tune with mine. I can play her like a fiddle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Only I have the keys to this temple.

Mabel’s breaths come out short, in fast pants, and she tries to pull away from me, like the sensation, the pressure in her body, is suddenly too much—but I don’t let her pull away. I am unrelenting in my assault on that swollen nub, my one goal to unravel this girl.

Her thighs tighten around my head as her body spasms uncontrollably. The sound she makes as she comes is unlike all other previous moans; it’s more unchained, nothing at all holding it back. Louder, too.

Once she’s pushed off the edge, I revel in her for a few seconds, kissing her inner thigh, before I get back to work. If she thinks she’s done after one orgasm, she’s got another thing coming.

Mabel’s first orgasm paved the way for the follow-ups. She’s primed and ready, and barely takes any work on my part to make her come again. The second time she comes, her inner thighs spasm and I’m pretty sure I hear her grip the sheets around us. The third time is when I notice how hot her skin is getting; her body is on fire. The more times she comes, the more that nub swells and pulsates under my tongue.

I’m a man of patience, yes, but also a man that has waited too damn long. I run my tongue down, away from her clit, to the entrance of her pussy, and my tongue is met with her slick arousal. Her inner core is so saturated she’s started to leak.

Fuck. My cock strains against my pants. There’s never been anything hotter. Never.

Tasting her arousal is the last straw, so to speak. I can’t hold back any more. I need to get these fucking clothes off me and I need to feel her under me, around me, while I make her mine.

Oh, and put on a condom, I guess. Not too thrilled about it, but with her as the prize, I’ll do anything.

I lift myself off her and crawl over to the edge of the bed, where I strip and fumble with the box on the nightstand. The plastic wrapping around the box is enough to piss me off, but the end goal is more than enough to keep me from losing my cool. Eventually I get into the damned box, and I tear into the small package with my teeth. Once the rubber is rolled on, I return to my place above her.

I cup the side of her face, and even though I know she can’t see much of me through the darkness—she wasn’t born to it, like me—I whisper, “I’ll take care of you, Mabel. Just trust me.”

And then she says the words I already knew deep in my heart: “I do.”

The breath that comes out of me after that is haggard and rough, and I lean my forehead against hers as I position myself between her thighs. No one has ever said they trusted me before. Mabel has given me so many firsts—a smile, a laugh, defending me when she knew nothing about me, sticking with me even after she found out the full truth… and now her trust.

Fuck. I think I’m in love with this girl.

The tip of my cock prods her entrance, and then, without hesitation, I push inside of her—and just like that, my life will never be the same again.

Her body takes my cock like it was made to, fated to be mine. I plunge into her with no resistance, and even though there’s a damn condom wrapped around my length, it’s still a sensation unlike any other. My back shudders, and a low, guttural moan escapes me before I start to thrust. Mabel, for her part, inhales sharply when I enter her, but when I begin to move, she releases the breath out in a rough sigh.

The animal in me wants nothing more than to go hard and fast, to take her roughly like a beast. It’s what the Cobra would do—but here, in the dark, with our scars laid bare, we are not the same people we were before. We’ve changed, and I, for one, owe most of that to Mabel, just as I hope she owes much of it to me.

So I go slow.

---