Wetness flooded her core again, and he chuckled even as he pulled and pushed her hips to and from his body. It was a gentle rhythm that felt incredible as he penetrated and retreated in shallow strokes that never fully invaded or fully left her body. But she was already fantasizing about just what “pounding” might mean.
She drank her fill and pulled her teeth from his flesh as she sat upright. He stopped her hips and lifted her from his lap, letting his cock spring back to fully erect against his stomach. He stood swiftly and turned her to the table. When he asked her to climb on top, he held out a hand to help, and when she was on her hands and knees on the table top, he asked her to spread her knees out wide. Damn good thing she was limber and strong in her new form. Her sex was left mere inches above the tabletop with her knees out wide and her bottom pushed back toward him. Her chest was dropped to the tabletop, and the cool surface soothed her nerves as he stroked the skin of her bottom.
There wasn’t a single inch of her flesh that was hidden from him, and as he touched and stroked and squeezed, she excited. His fingers grazed over her anus, and she clenched her muscles and pulled forward at the feel of his fingers there. He returned her hips to exactly the place he wanted them, and he didn’t release his grip. He leaned down to her exposed bottom, and he took one slow and gentle lick from the exposed cleft of her vagina all the way up to glide over her anus. He then blew a gentle breath on the skin, and she again clenched. “Does that feel good, baby?” His voice was warm and masculine, and it innervated her arousal yet again.
“Yes.” It was barely audible as she uttered the words.
When she heard the chair being pulled across the floor, she stilled. Once he’d sat, his finger trailed between her slick, wet lips, and he parted the skin to expose her entry. Again he blew a gentle, cool breath on her skin that felt scorching hot even in her own cool temperature. When his mouth connected to her skin, she groaned, and he licked and sucked at her skin. He sank his tongue into her body, and he plunged his tongue in and out as his hands grasped her buttocks and kneaded.
He pulled one hand away from her bottom and moved up between her legs, and as his fingers gently plucked and caressed her clit, her muscles danced and twitched. His touch teased her body, and his finger kept up its torment as his tongue continued to delve and plunge into her. When she orgasmed, she cried out, and he held her hips still. He stood behind her body still stroking her pussy that was beyond drenched, and when she felt his cockhead nudge her vagina, she held still and waited.
His penetration was swift as he filled her up with himself. He was beyond any sort of restraint after torturing her and himself with her body. Her skin was smooth as silk as he’d grazed his fingers over her body. She’d pulled away from his more invasive moves, and he loved seeing her tremble in excitement and nervousness at his touch.
But when it came time to fuck her, he was done with restraint or patience or any number of other appropriate approaches to her body. He thrust hard to her center, and she cried out when he hit her depths. Her hips were firmly within his grasp, and she was powerless to escape his pace and vigorous rhythm as he pounded one stroke after another into her tight channel. Her moans and the intense flood of arousal had him certain there was no reason to worry, and as he continued to plunge and fuck her hard, pulling her hips harshly back to his, his orgasm mounted quickly and left him fighting to control it. He managed to hold out until she fell apart, and as she reached her climax, he let go of himself, and with one final deep, powerful thrust, he spilled himself in her depths, and she collapsed on the table.
As he pulled back from her body, watching his length leave her tightness, he trilled in masculine, dominating power. He loved her too much to ever use that power against her, but he also loved that strength. It was the strength that would die fighting for her and would gladly kill anyone who ever tried to harm her. It was also the strength that liked to plow into her tight wetness like a freight train to claim her body as his property. It was exhilarating, and as he left her body, he watched as his cum seeped from her body. He touched her entry and stroked his finger into her vagina, coating his fingers in his cum as he plunged and stroked gentle, slow penetrations through his own mess.
Once he finally collapsed back onto the chair and she slid off the table, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Too rough?” He was concerned even though he knew by her body’s reaction that she’d enjoyed it. Ember had experienced enough terror at the hands of a man, and he didn’t ever want her to associate him with the monster who tried to rape and murder her as a child. She’d never fully recovered from that incident; it showed in her response to every man who ever approached her over the years—aside from him. And he intended to keep it that way.
She shook her head and kissed him as if to reassure him she was fine. Even if he hurt her, she would physically heal quickly, but the emotional damage would be irreparable, and he sighed in relief that she was truly okay with how they’d made love. He liked it gentle just as often as not, and it was entirely dependent on his mood. He knew he wouldn’t always want to take her so roughly, but it wouldn’t be the last time he’d be overrun with the need to consume her body either. But she’d enjoyed it, and he was relieved.
They had to return to the city, and he wasn’t happy about it. His family was being destroyed, and he was powerless to do anything. Mason was a constant threat, and the council was making it impossible for him to fight back. He had always stayed out of the business of the vampire world. He’d taken care of himself, hunted, and once Ember came along, stalked her endlessly. But their lives, Ember’s and his, now depended upon his new place in their world, and while he may have shunned it in the past, he didn’t have that choice now.
He had never wished his family ill; he had simply not enjoyed the politics of it all. He had seen most of his family as greedy and corrupt, but now with Mason gone, he was realizing the majority were simply going along with Mason. Now they were being decimated and destroyed, and before too long, there’d be no one left. The council was his protection, but Ember was his only real concern. Mason would use her if he could get his hands on her, and the council, Sylvan specifically, would care little, so long as they could keep him around to represent his family. What they failed to understand was that if anything ever happened to Ember, he would no longer care about any obligation he had to them. It was Ember they needed to worry about. Without her in his life, he would disappear again from their world.
He simply needed to be rid of Mason so he and Ember could begin a life together without the threat of him looming over their heads. He didn’t want to remain in the council’s residence with her permanently, and he wanted more than anything to live away from this world with her. He wanted her in his Gloucester home, and while he was more than willing to maintain his place at the head of his family, he wanted his privacy with her. He wanted her to work, and he wanted to be able to do the same. He wanted to marry her and share the rest of their long lives together in peace and private. He wanted and wanted and wanted for so many things for her and for himself included, and as happy as he was to finally have her affection again, even if she didn’t have her memories, they were far from having safety and security and a road to all of his many wants. He simply had to make it happen.