Page 80 of Sweet Silver Bells
You’re a damn lucky horse.
“I’m almost there, Hunter,” she moaned, her fingertips brushing her navel and traveling up her breasts, up her neck, finding her lips, her mouth, as she sucked and moaned as she rode him harder and harder.
“I’m not going to make it,” Hunter yelled. “Not when you move like that.”
His whole body was moments from seizing. She was a force, her movements something he had never had before. He grabbed onto her hips with force, pulling her forward, not letting her roll back, trying to stay with her, trying to make sure that she didn’t get left behind at that moment.
But the way his cock twitched inside her, the way her slit slid against his pelvis when he grabbed, must have been the stars, the moon, that she had been looking for, praying for, because in that moment Olivia arched back, her pussy so tight, her thighs shaking against the side of his as she pulled every muscle in. Her head fell back, and she let out a howl, a musical note that promised all things macabre, a deathly sexual release that reached all things spirits and wind and trees.
Hunter let himself go too, and the room started spinning as he spilled into her, as he gave all of himself to her. She now had some of him inside of her forever to keep, forever to manipulate, forever to obey, and he would gladly do it all over and over again.
As their panting and gasps were still at a high, a wave of shock flooded through Hunter, because for the first time ever, his orgasm was responded to with a force, with destruction and horror.
An explosive roar burst out, a monster, a dragon, there to scream into Hunter’s ears, and he wondered if he would ever hear a normal sound again. Protectively, he flung himself up and around Olivia, tossing them both off the side of the bed, thudding against the floor as he shook over her from adrenaline, among other things.
The house trembled, and broken glass joined the symphony of destruction as the perfect percussionist. Hunter just listened, still holding her, not moving as his body started to feel the impact of their tumble down. He was sore, with a huge ache in his neck that he hoped was not an injury.
After the commotion calmed, Hunter blinked and looked into Olivia’s eyes with panic, a sudden reminder that a person was wrapped in his arms. He pulled back, looking into her pupils. No dissociation, just that mischievous smile, that eyebrow raise.
He was human, so it seemed the only appropriate thing to ask, despite that look she gave him: “Are you okay?”
Olivia broke out into a full laugh, so melodic and filled with beauty, with joy. She clapped her hands together and lifted her chin to look over the bed.
“Did you see what we did?” she asked him. “Did you see what you did?”
What I did?
“Every moment I’m with you,” Olivia continued, “is confirmation that the right person sang for me.”
Hunter carefully got to his feet and stood. Olivia watched him rise, his queen on her knees before him. His cock twitched as the thought flashed through his mind. It disappeared quickly, which was very unfortunate for him, as he now had something new to look forward to, to feel her mouth, her tongue, with his full length pushing toward her throat.
Instead, he saw what had happened—the monstrous noise that brought chaos and destruction—just on the opposite side of the bed. He had been right to roll the way he did, because if he had chosen the other way, they might not have made it.
The walls and windows of his room were destroyed, completely pushed down in half as bricks lay loose like debris after a bombing. It was no dragon, no monster; the cause was something entirely too familiar but also unrecognizable.
Hunter stared at the tree in his front yard after it had fallen violently into his home, bringing coldness and darkness with it. Olivia beamed, proud, as if there were no greater accomplishment.
22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.
The warmest, most welcoming colors filled the room. Reds like heirloom tomatoes, yellows that tried to disguise themselves as gold, and oranges that tasted like autumn cascaded over his carpet, the edge of his bed, and into his closet and hallway.
“Is that my tree? From my front lawn?” Hunter blinked at it, knowing that it was the only explanation. The sugar maple for which he had spent so much time destroying the television for was smaller, its leaves bare from the throes of winter. This seemed like an entirely different tree that was thriving in the early autumn.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Olivia beamed, a naked beacon of wildness.
“She?”
“What else did you expect?”
Hunter sighed, “I don’t know how to clean this up.”
“Why clean it up? The tree is perfectly happy here.”
The sound of doors slamming caught Hunter’s attention as he heard gasps and footsteps approaching.
“Oh my God, I hope no one got hurt.”
