Page 88 of Satanic Shadow
My pussy pulses as cold air hits it, and my eyes flutter shut. Nipples tightening, I feel a pressure between my legs as if it belongs to me—something different, something outward, not inward. I want to touch, to stroke, to feel my touch trace the tip.
The bridge between us grows stronger, our synapses interlinking for a deep connection. I picture nails dragging down his powerful back, and he forces the image of me on my knees for him, my mouth open, tongue out and waiting.
God, I need this man deep inside me.
Do not whimper to your god, little mortal. I’ll burn down the remaining realms before I hear you call out to someone else.
My eyes close, and when I try to touch myself, to find a release, vines wrap around my wrists.
Not yet.
His cock is hard. He’s gripping it in a fist and gritting his teeth while I suck in a deep breath as my arousal drips onto my bed beneath my floating body.
He’s thick. It’s growing long and hard and stiff. It’s leaking, and the veins bulge with the ghost of a stroke from base to tip.
Focusing on his actions, as if I’m sitting right in front of him, I reach for him, shoving against his chest and controlling his own hand, tighter, faster, twisting his wrist with each up-and-down motion.
His voice is breathy in my head.Would you look at that? You can feel me too.
A lick of a low groan presses to my cheek as his shadow of a touch to my thighs slides up, and I can still sense him aroundme. We’re connected, and each time he strokes himself, I feel each ridge and twitch.
We are the epicenter of arousal as we become one entity. Each time he breathes in, I feel his lungs filling with air. I feel the valves in his heart pumping blood through his body and hear the swallow in his throat as his Adam’s apple shifts.
My nerves spark along with his, suspended in the air as the snake of his power licks against my inner thigh. The vines slowly slide away from my wrists, a silent order.
My hand slips between my legs almost on instinct, my arousal coating my palm as I grind against it. With strength I never knew existed, I rip my underwear completely off, tossing the soaked fabric aside.
It’s like he’s here beside me, and I can see him fucking his hand while I press against my own, sinking my middle finger into the first knuckle, teasing myself as I spread my wetness to my clit.
Dane’s own heart is racing, his hips moving, his free hand slamming against the bars of his cell. He drops his head as I push two fingers inside me, curling them against my sweet spot.
An image of him sliding down my body and burying his head between my legs spreads wildfire all over, and I moan through the psychological bridge between us.
Practice for task five,I say, my voice breathless, even in my mind.
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. His grip on his cock tightens, the head sensitive as he curls his wrist at the tip, swiping his precum with his thumb and spreading it over himself.
I can feel how soaked you are, he tells me.You’re so warm around your fingers. Are you going to come for me?
Only if you come for me,I counter.
I always fucking do,he growls, and everything shatters into smithereens with how deep his voice is in my head.
As a multitude of orgasms smack into me like tidal waves crashing, my inner walls crush my fingers with each spasm. Dane tenses on a groan as my release reaches his side of the connection, stilling his movements until the tenderness of his balls eases off.
My body collapses onto the bed, and I’m completely spent.
Dane’s forehead is against the cold wall as his heart races, sweat coating the back of his neck like mine.
We stay in silence and lingering euphoria for minutes, possibly hours. When the intensity calms, I can sense him wiping the string of cum from his pants while I pull my fingers away, panting on the mattress.
The urge to be inside you is just getting worse, he says, his voice strained.But we can’t take any shortcuts. No more recklessness. Understand?
I frown at his change in tone, unable to do anything but catch my breath.Shortcuts?
I meant it when I said I’d kill you if I fucked you. You are a human, and I am not. Your body needs to be trained to be able to handle me.
My toes curl from the lingering pleasure vibrating in my bones, sweat coating my skin.Trained?
