Page 8 of Devious Nightmare

All it takes is one hard thrust, and I’m bottoming out in her cunt. She screams my name into the empty cemetery and claws at the grass and mud near her hands.

I glance down where we connect, where her cunt is stretching around me, and I groan. She’s so fucking tight, gripping me tighter than any cunt of fist before her. She’s searing the skin on my cock with her heat. Losing control, I grab hold of her hips, and fuck mercilessly. Savagely. Her inner walls constrict around me, harder and tighter with each violent thrust.

“Blaze. Fuck, Blaze.” The more she cries out my name, the harder I rut into her. The sound of skin slapping together mixes with her cries and my grunts. It’s a symphony of erotic sounds, and I fucking love it.

Her black painted nails dig into the ground as she slams back into me with every thrust. Even in the cool October weather, beads of sweat form on her skin, and I want to lick every single one of them. Each breath comes out more ragged than the last, but my dirty little slut doesn’t stop rocking her hips.

My fingers bite into the skin at her hips, slamming her over and over again onto my thick length. She’s writhing before me, walls tightening, and my Little Sire is going to come. I can fucking feel it.

“Look at me,” I growl the words.

My obedient Ripley finally lifts her head from the ground, arching her back so she can look over her shoulder. She meets my gaze, and the last string of my sanity snaps. I fuck into her with and urgency I’ve never known before, feeding off of her sinful cries of pleasure.

“Come for me.” I command her, and she does. Her mouth falls open and her eyes roll back as she loses herself in the throws of her full body orgasm. Her cunt grips me, making it difficult to move inside her, but I’m determined to fuck her though this orgasm.

She’s fucking stunning when she comes. Allowing the pleasure to claim her every sense.

My own release creeps up as I watch her. Balls tightening, breath choppy, I maintain my ruthless pace, fucking into her as I fill her with hot ropes of my cum.

I slow my movements, enjoying the subtle flutters against my sensitive dick as her orgasm subsides. I’m not ready to leave her perfect pussy yet. So when her legs finally give out, and she falls to the ground, I follow her, continuing my slow, deep thrusts.

Ripley hums her approval at the leisurely pace I’m maintaining.

Why can’t I get enough of this girl? My dick is still rock solid, and I could probably pick her up and fuck her against a tree if I didn’t have shit to do right now. I’ll revisit that thought later.

“I can’t breathe,” Ripley whispers from beneath me, and I laugh. I was waiting for her to say something, and I wasn’t going to move until she needed me to get off.

Slowly, I roll off her, moving to my back beside her. She follows my movement, rolling away from me until she’s looking up at the dark, star-filled sky, chest still heaving with her deep breathing. I watch her tits rise and fall through the mesh fabric. I’m too tired to move, but I want to see her bare pale breasts.

Later — I know I’ll want her again before I’m sent back…wherever I came from. There’s no way I’m not going to take advantage of everything I can while I’m walking this earth. Fucking this gorgeous goth angel as many times as she’ll allow me to dragging a knife across Donavan’s fucking neck are top on my priority list.

Three

Ripley

My entire body feels useless. The lingering effects of the multiple orgasms Blaze just coaxed from my body are making my head a little hazy and all of my limbs feel like there are lead weights attached to them.

I just had sex with Blaze Dubois — very, very dirty sex. Only minutes ago, I had sex with some kind of ghost and it was the best sex of my entire life. Not only that — I had sex with my favorite deceased musician.

How is this happening?

My chest is heaving with quick, shallow breaths. My skin is damp with a new layer of sweat. My chest hurts, but I can’t rub away the pain because my arms still don’t work.

In the distance, I’m vaguely away of Blaze sighing as he mumbles something that sounds like, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Then he’s hovering above me in all his naked glory. I’d try to appreciate it more if my heart wasn’t actively trying to pound its way through my ribcage.

His dark eyes stare down at me, and I can see the annoyance in his expression. I don’t know what I did or why he’s mad at me, but I don’t want him looking at me the way he is right now.

I have to force myself to remember that he’s a murderer — that he has killed multiple people from our small town. I’m sure he had reasons for what he did, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a killer.

He leans down, and I flinch as his hand comes close to my face. This makes him smirk. “Don’t worry, Little Sire. I’m not going to hurt you — right now.”

“Wh-what?”

His large, calloused hand cups my cheek, and it’s cool against my heated skin. Was his hand always this cold? Even when he has his fingers buried deep inside of me? I can’t seem to remember, but that doesn’t surprise me. From the moment he threw me to the ground, everything I did was carnal instinct. I was thriving only on my baser needs.

“You’re having a panic attack, Ripley.” His voice is more comforting than it has been since I pulled him from whatever alternate dimension he was in. I’m almost positive that I imagined his gentle tone, because it’s gone mere seconds later. “I really need you to get your shit together. We have an officer of the law to go visit.”

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