Page 112 of Grim
“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” I groan. “Do it. Come all over my cock while I fill you up.”
She whimpers, voice raw, “Kane—I—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” I growl. “You need to. Don’t hold back.Maintenant, jouir avec moi.”
Her pussy grips me tighter as I thrust as deep as physics will allow, and we both come. Together. I slam in one final time, so deep I swear I can feel her heartbeat from the inside, and release into her with a sound that physically tears itself from my throat.
I take a moment to ensure her dress is still well clear of the space where our bodies are joined, then bring my hand around her front and grip her neck delicately. I monitor her pulse while massaging her shoulder. Parachute deployed, I hold her as we gently come down.
When our breathing regulates and the world begins to come back into focus, I whisper behind her, “My monstrous side wants you to keep all that cum inside you and have my juices dripping down your thighs all night long. However, the practical gentleman knows that would be unnecessarily uncomfortable, so stay right there,ma chère, and I will clean you up.”
Kane’s breath drags across the back of my neck, warm and heavy, before he pulls out of me. I groan softly, my body clenching around nothing, desperate to keep him inside just a little longer. The ache of his absence is immediate. My thighs tremble. My cunt throbs. And when the painful thickness of him disappears, I crave its punishing return immediately.
I make a wounded little sound I didn’t mean to. He laughs behind me, low and wicked.
“Where are you going?” I breathe as I hear his shoes clop toward the bathroom.
My thighs continue to gently pulse, my knees decidedly weak. Kane ruined me, and it was divine. He’s left me here with my thighs spread, ass on full display. I can feel the cool air tickling my cheeks. I feel vulnerable andexposed like this, helpless in a way that feels somehow empowering.
I focus on my breathing, feeling my heart rate slow as I replay the intense moments that preceded this delicious calm.
The measured click of Kane’s shoes portends his return, and moments later, I hear him growl lustfully. Without warning, he licks and firmly kisses each of my ass cheeks before I feel a wet washcloth travel slowly up my inner thigh.
“It’s warm.”
He warmed the cloth to clean me? It’s so caring, so intimate that I almost choke on a small cry.
“Bien sur, ma chère.” His voice is velvet and full of smug satisfaction. “I would not dream of cleaning you with a cold cloth.”
He peppers several more kisses to my ass and the backs of my thighs as he takes his time caring for me. He expertly cups my pussy with the towel, gently ensuring a thorough clean. The vulnerability of my position to him, coupled with the care he’s applying to my body, makes me feel like a porcelain doll—beautiful yet so very breakable.
He blows gently on my center, which may have the opposite of its intended effect. Shivers run down my legs as he softly declares, “Finis.”
He then folds the towel and places it on the edge of a nearby trash can. I turn just enough to see him pick up my panties. He doesn’t even pretend to be subtle. He lifts them, presses them to his face, and inhales like he just stumbled into a field of wildflowers.
“Are you serious?” I gasp, scandalized.
He turns those wolf-green eyes on me and smirks unapologetically.
“You smell like fresh rain, Mayday. And I will never miss an opportunity to drink you in. Now, step into these, and let’s go to a party.”
DanceoftheDescent
Crossing into the OtherWorld hits like a fever dream, where you wake up freezing, sweating, and shaking simultaneously.
The air is cold and crystalline. Icy particles assault my throat and lungs on each fractured inhale. The sky is an endless swirl of color and movement, shot through with violet and silver. The ground beneath my feet isn’t earth, but something that feels like stone carved from glass and fog. This place feels like it’s breathing, and we exist inside its breath. For being the home of the dead, it sure does feel alive.
My gaze flicks to Kane. He hasn’t really spoken since the bedroom. Not that there was much time to do more than clean up and head out. Still, he seems on edge. Though taking a living woman to the OtherWorld is probably fraught with anxious potential.
I look around, wondering if this will be my home after tomorrow. Will I live here? I want to ask Kane. I want to ask him if he’ll be with me through the intake process, but I’m also scared to know the answer. Kane has told me he has no idea where I will end up once AfterLife Processing is complete and if we will ever even see each other again.
The thought of never seeing Kane again after tomorrow makes forever feel like a very long time.
Maybe that’s why he’s so quiet. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with the fact that he and I are essentially ships passing in the night.
Kane turns and looks at me, his eyes dragging over my body like he’s memorizing every inch.
“Hold still,” he says, voice low enough to make something flutter deep in my belly.
