Page 12 of Mischief Maker

“You need to be prepared for me,” Kireth explains, using my stored-up liquid to ease his way in. I gasp and tighten as they wriggle in deeper, pushing me apart, and my body aches underneath it as much as it demands more.

Once inside, Kireth pets me with both fingers in unison.

I’m stretching wide for him, but gladly, eagerly, ready to arrive wherever he’s taking me.

It could be hours or mere seconds that go by as he increases his speed, forcing my channel to shift and widen and accept him, leading me back to that place where I’m writhing and moaning with unspent energy.

When I’m so slippery and spread out that his fingers move freely, he withdraws them. I whine, missing the feel of them.

“Soon,” he murmurs.

Kireth’s horns glimmer in the lamplight as he kneels between my legs, pushing his cock down toward the space that now feels so empty, my thighs spread around his hips. He slips through my inner folds, brushing himself over my sensitive clit.

“It might not feel good at first,” he says, pausing to run his hands up and down my hips, over my belly to my pelvis, tangling his fingers in the hair there. “But I promise it will.”

The moment that wide, soft head finds me, there’s suddenly a pressure up against my small slit.

I know what he means now. And yet I’m so wet, so slippery, that the tip of his cock manages to fit through, stretching me almost to the point I think I might break.

It’s uncomfortable and tense, like he warned me, and yet still so erotic.

“Kireth...”

His name falls from my lips, and he gets a sinful smile.

He pauses his invasion and instead, draws back, tracing my edges with the head of his cock and urging my tight opening to soften for him.

Then he tries again, demanding I allow him through.

My body is weeping, lathering him up, and this time, he slips inside.

My muscles tense as I open wide for him, and it burns in a new, shocking way.

“Breathe,” my god tells me, dropping onto his elbows so he can be closer to my face.

He kisses both my cheeks, and then my mouth, just stroking that malleable, sweet cockhead in and out until I’m bucking under him.

Every pass triggers a burst of color behind my eyes, even as it aches.

That familiar sweet tenseness builds in my abdomen, and I wonder if I might simply blow apart.

Then his cock slides further in, spreading me even more, and I gasp as my channel swallows him. There’s a wire-tight tension between my legs as he gently slips deeper and deeper with each small thrust of his hips. It hurts, stretched as wide as I am, but somehow it’s wonderful, too.

“There we are, my girl,” Kireth croons, pushing my hair away from my sweat-slicked forehead. “Swallow me up.”

And I do. Every bone in my body is begging for more and he gives it to me, sliding all the way in at last. I cringe as the tightness becomes almost unbearable. Kireth stops and exhales a long, relieved breath.

“There we are.” He drops his forehead to mine, framing my face with his hands.

He kisses me, again and again, until I sense my muscles starting to relax.

That terrible tightness fades, and soon all I want is for his perfect, satisfying cock to do more.

I don’t know what it is exactly that I desire, but I need it—now.

Slowly, Kireth withdraws, and immediately I’m begging to be filled again.

I don’t realize that I’m whimpering until he buries himself inside me, cutting me off.

It’s tight and uncomfortable and yet so delicious that I need him to keep going.

It’s as if my need is speaking directly to him, because he repeats the motion, filling and withdrawing, sliding easily through my wetness.

I moan his name, wrapping my arms around him, tugging him closer to me, desiring only his body against mine. He chuckles and presses his face into my hair as he strokes in and out, his chest weighing me down, and the discomfort fades into a blistering pleasure.

Somewhere deep inside me, that same sweet sensation is swelling upward, and each time he thrusts, it stacks higher and higher, like a steep set of stairs leading me toward an unknown destination.

I wrap my legs around his waist to draw him in even further, if that were possible, as my hips rise to meet each of his movements.

My nose is buried in his neck, inhaling his warm smell.

“Fuck,” Kireth whispers, his arms curling around me. “You feel wonderful, Faela. Like stars and sugar.”

I’m pleased to know that he, too, feels this unimaginable wonder, and he picks up his speed, plunging in and out while the steps appear quicker and quicker in front of me.

Soon I’m running up them, crying out as he digs even deeper.

His cock’s soft head brushes past something inside me that sends a lightning bolt across my body, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I can barely stand it, as if I might simply explode underneath him.

“Let it take you,” he says into my ear. “Give in to me, and to your pleasure.”

I obey. My body squeezes so tight it’s almost painful, and now I’m at the very top of the stairs, ready to careen over the edge. That’s when everything releases at once.

I’m blinded by it, deafened by it, completely overtaken by it. I hear Kireth groan as he pushes through my powerful clenching, slamming into me over and over, and my whole body rocks with the force of my rapture.

“Kireth!” My voice is broken and ragged.

He shoves inside me one last time, as deep as he can get, and his cock swells up thick and fat.

I’m crying now, clutching him as close as I can as he draws out this indescribable joy.

Then he bursts, and hot liquid shoots against my deepest, most sensitive place.

I crumble and melt into nothing.

Kireth nearly collapses on top of me, holding himself up with one hand as I shake like a leaf underneath him.

He kisses me deeply and fully. I’ve seen him, the real him, and it is a vision like none other.

I’ve found something beautiful, something priceless, and I clutch him as close to me as I can.