| Subject: Chapter 288 - Part 5 (18 and above) (end of Chapter 288) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, April 30, 11:14:54am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark continued (273>)" on Monday, March 05, 07:03:06am
He was hot simply with this idea now, aching in heat with her beauty, with how damn much he loved her. He had one hand on the back of her neck, bracing her head in the awkward position he had her in, while the other held her hip tight toward him, keeping her in place for everything he demanded from her very yielding form. And it was perfect; she *was* giving him everything. He growled, lips moving down her throat, cock pressing deeper and hotter inside her wonderful, inviting core with her every, hungry gasp. But he would never let her imagine that there was any reason to hold herself back from him again.
This would always be the truth, Nikita certainly not questioning it. And it was with the simple, shivering sensation of his lips tracing softly over every delicate point on her throat, moving ever-further downward, that she just began to shudder through.
The sensation caught her almost unaware, the cry she gave almost childlike in innocent bliss--and it clearly made her lover crazy, his rhythm speeding up all the more. She could barely take it; it was nearly too much joy to bear. She had somehow forgotten just how good this all was--had let herself forget. But now, she could do nothing but singe in the rediscovery, the amazing friction of her husband's hefty shaft rasping constantly, deeply inside her shuddering walls, making her hold onto him for dear life--making the almost-unbearable echoes of ecstasy start to burn her body through all the more thoroughly. She just started groaning, her fingers nearly bending the hook above her off the wall, as that fabulous crown of his pounded against her quivering core in absolutely-aching synchrony with her every new throe of orgasm. Jesus, it was heaven. But she wasn't certain whether she would survive even another second.
He let her see that she would--even if she was still shaking through in her joy and her doubts. In fact, he made it even better, as his mouth found a desperate spot at the base of her neck, biting it lightly, just as he leaned into her, his hand readjusting her hips, beginning to ride that taut, pleasure-seeking bud of hers against the base of his very thick cock. She let out a cry they could probably hear outside, being swamped with far too many waves of heat and blistering light to take any more of this wondrous joy, certain it would destroy her. "Oh, God. No, Michael," she moaned, the sound going even deeper, as he held her body to him more strongly, rubbing that desperate little bud faster against his shaft, as he took and gave his own pleasure far within her core. She could feel the tears coming, was letting out a desperate sort of "Aahhhh!" afraid that the burning delight which was swamping her might well kill her this time; she could barely find her voice through her gasping cries. "It's too much."
He didn't believe her, never seemed to, at times like these--but she only ever remembered to thank him for it afterwards. "You've forgotten how good it can be, 'Kita." His eyes were almost brutal, desperate to teach her--insane from love. "I've been away too damn long."
He began to show her this truth in the next second, his hand now behind her, on her soft curves, holding her hard against his shaft's multiple ministrations to both her quivering bud and aching core--quite pleased when her heard her screech. And the truth was that he was about to go absolutely mad himself--his rhythm speeding up to a slamming desperation, teeth gritting, as he watched his incredibly beautiful wife groaning and writhing against the wall in the ecstasy he alone could give her. That he was her only lover, that he could please her, was enough to make him crazy. But the way her sweet body felt, as well . . .
It was this he was trying his damnedest not to think about, this which could well drive him mad. Just the feeling of her soft skin against his hands--the amazing desire he had gained just by kissing her tender flesh--was enough to nearly make him lose all control. But the incredible ache her soft, slick walls gave him, as they clung all around his throbbing cock like she would die if he ever left her, was going to send him over the edge *very* soon--the heat threatening to rise uncontrollably. It was all way too much. When he had left her, she had been utterly intoxicating--but three months in his absence had made her body accept him in a way which was almost impossible to believe; he had never felt any woman who was so deliciously tight. There was a lingering, aching groan. That she was his beloved wife, as well . . .
No. It was nearly too much, his whole body burning with need for her. His teeth gritted harder, rhythm speeding up even further, trying desperately to hold on--as much as he ached to come hard inside her; he couldn't even look at her anymore, knowing the sight of her beauty would easily destroy him. And yet he was also insane to hold on, needed to give her one more, explosive release--or, rather, needed to build her current, endless one up to a level it would be difficult for her to endure; he held her body to him even more roughly, both hands behind her, and rode her fast, glorying in the bolt of energy and delight which shook through her entire form, her slick, amazing walls tightening and shivering around him all the more fervently. His heart was absolutely pounding, mind and body in thrall to her. Jesus. If he survived this, it would be a miracle. And then they were both going to have to do a *hell* of a job to pretend that anything outside of this room mattered a damn.
It was all threatening to make him utterly insane. He nearly wanted to destroy her, to make it an unbelievable feat of acting when she had to go out and make nice to the press--rather than taking him home immediately and *begging* him to have his way with her in any way he might dream; he groaned, lips moving toward her again, trying to survive, needing to--focusing on the truth. As astounding as she was for him, she was just far too beautiful not to come, as well.
This wasn't exactly a problem for Nikita just now, her entire body and soul going mad. She had one hand clinging to, bending the hook above her and one bracing back on the wall behind her, beside her head, her entire body arched, doing her best to hold herself out to any desire or ministration her husband might will. While it was true that his every move was far too much, too good, she still wanted more; he had her entirely where he wanted her. She was an utter addict for him now.
She couldn't fight the ecstasy anymore, couldn't even think. All she could do was arch and beg, her cries for more no longer at all discreet. But no woman could hope for discretion at a moment like this. Every time she came, his big, generous cock would become even more furious inside and against her, stroking her through each, aching orgasm and then into the outer, wracking fringes of the next. But that wasn't even all. Just the sheer thickness of his shaft made her feel stretched and adored, taking away her breath. And that said nothing at all about what he was doing to her enraptured little bud.
It was all just too much. He was working that sweet little point now, working every single part of her. And the heat he was opening with his astounding friction against that desperate bud was making her cries for more ever more insane by the second. But it was when his mouth started moving down again, kissing over her burning flesh and toward her swollen breasts, that she felt everything within her start to seize; his whisper of, "God, I love you," was a breath against a far-too-tender nipple. And then every joy she could ever imagine swamped her at once.
She was left crying, insane, bucking against him--her makeup ruined, not that she could ever notice it now. His intense rhythm within and against her had blurred every second of heat and delight together into a sharpened arrow of bliss, piercing through to her soul--crashing heavily into the heavenly waves of ecstasy that his talented mouth around her tender nipple gave. Her heated, quivering walls were clamped down so tightly around him that the end of his glorious rhythm was threatening to drive her mad; she had to hold her mouth tightly shut to keep from letting out a screech which would be heard in the next county. There was only one thought within her, one thing which mattered. "Mi-chael," she gasped at last. That was the only name of the Lord as she knew it.
It was the last temptation he could withstand, as well, his joy at being with her--being inside her--again far too great; he let out a desperate groan near her breast, kissing her tenderly there--before his head fell back, allowing himself to fully experience the wonder of her at last. And it wasn't just the way her constantly-contracting, heavily-shivering depths held his heated cock fast within her, even as he pounded away the end of his bliss against that tender and adoring core of her captivating form, which finally did him in; it wasn't the searing heat which threatened to rise every second, either--making every inch of his shaft ache with the need for release. It wasn't even the way his sweet Nikita groaned and begged for him, her body shuddering and quaking in the pleasure he alone had given. No. It was as his hand ran down her lovely body, coming at last to rest on the home where their child waited for them--was the look of absolute love and trust he saw on her face, when he touched her there, the realization that this child was *his* and no other man's--which finally destroyed him; the groan he let out echoed, his hand finding her cheek. And, with one more deep and thorough thrust inside this woman he adored, he came within her with an absolutely epic groan.
He had caught her in the kiss by this point, had both of them standing braced against the wall, holding each other close; the fact that she was crying with love nearly made the pleasure too intense--letting go of the kiss to moan, his head back. She was just too beautiful, too perfect--was the woman he wanted for the rest of every lifetime. His gaze came back to her, as his heavy shaft convulsed out his ecstasy inside her sweet, sheltering, quivering walls. And he had no intention of ever letting her go again.
That he would have to in just over a day saddened them both--their hands on their one partner's face, their look utterly adoring. But, for now, neither of them mourned. And, as Michael put his hand to her abdomen, received the joy of feeling his child turn a little back flip within her, they were both blessed with a heavenly sensation of peace. For the very first time, they knew that everything would be alright. The kiss started again. No matter what terrors might be used against them, they would always overcome.
[End of Part 288]
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