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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 52. Chapter 52

Garjah’s bed was soft as a cloud, an unexpected luxury. I sank into it under his weight as he knelt between my thighs. When he tried to lift off me, I pulled him back down and locked my legs around his hips.

“Stay,” I ordered. I rocked up, pressing our flesh together. I was leaking and the clear, sticky fluid smeared between our bellies.

Garjah glanced down. His nostrils flared and he rumbled. He wormed one hand between us and joined our lengths, pressed his flexible shaft to mine.

“Yeah, just like that.” My toes curled in the satiny sheets. I loved to feel him against me. The combined scent of our pleasure rose up as he stroked. I grabbed his hips, urging him to move.

He was graceful for all his size as he stroked and rocked. The need I’d felt in front of the Kardoval made me bossy, and I relished the way he let me dictate the pace even as he caged me in his arms and under his bulk.

Sex was something I used to hurry through, but not any more. I stroked every inch of Garjah I could reach. Pulling him down, we kissed until I gasped at one particularly tight stroke over the head of my cock. I buried my head in Garjah’s throat, biting down then sucking on the salty flesh in my mouth.

Grunting, his ass flexed hard under my hands, the muscles rock solid as he froze over me. I hummed and undulated before I let go with a quiet pop. “Ugh,” Garjah grunted again in response. I licked his heated flesh, tracing the indent of my teeth and the blood I’d brought to the surface in a dark green bruise, and then I continued the caress along the column of his neck and across his shoulder. Nipping my way over the muscle, I smiled each time his muscles kicked and he drove against the grip he held us both in.

Overwhelmed by the smell, taste, and touch of him around me, I could have easily fell into pleasure but I felt hollow, empty. I wanted him inside me. Sliding a hand down between us, I curled my fingers around his. “Let go,” I said in a husky voice.

He blinked twice, slowly, before his unfocused stare finally cleared and met mine. “Why?” he complained in a rumbling voice.

“I want to scent like you, inside and out.” I didn’t have to say anything else before he let go. He barely lifted his body, and I struggled to turn over. This would be hard, and fast, and…. “Ahh, there.” He was pressed against my back, his shaft notching my cleft. His metallic slick was weeping from the holes on his shaft.

Too impatient to wait any longer, I arched and whined when the narrow head caught on the rim of my hole on the next rocking thrust. He grabbed my hip and stopped me, but I demanded, “No, now!” and pushed back another fraction. Straining, yet open to the invasion, I took his shaft with stinging pleasure until he was seated completely inside me.

Garjah held both my hips and one shoulder, his other hand braced on the bed beside us. I leaned toward that hand in the soft mattress, not quite balanced, so I lowered my chest. I gasped, shaking as his dick stroked hard over my prostate as I shifted.

It was thick, and tight, and long moments passed before I could draw in a deep enough breath to demand he move. Garjah rumbled in response, but he pulled his hips away from my ass. Cool air slid between our bodies for a moment, then he pushed back in.

“Stars! Yes!” I shouted. Pushing against the headboard, I rocked back into him on the next move, slapping our skin together so the underside of his lovely shaft caressed my prostate with ball-achingly good pressure. We moved apart and slammed together with increasing vigor, his grunts in my ear and my shouts devolving into demands for more.

I couldn’t remember any other words. I just knew I didn’t want it to end, even if the agony of sensation could only last for so long before my body cried its surrender. I rocked under him, no longer in control, and then Garjah slid one hand from his bruising grip on my hip to cup my leaking shaft against my belly.

The touch inside and out sent me over the edge, and I screamed a fierce “Yes!” as I filled his cupped palm with milky come. He kept jerking me and slamming his hips against my ass, growling as he stroked my cock with my own fluids and rode out my orgasm until the clench of my ass muscles around him became too much.

“My turn now,” Garjah rumbled. He bit down on my shoulder, his arm an iron band around my shoulder and down to my belly to keep me in place when I would have squirmed away. He hammered at my oversensitive hole before he unloaded, roaring loud enough my ears rang.

We collapsed, his weight bearing me into the bed. I turned my head, gasping for breath, and waited to recover enough to move. It might take a few hours or more. Before I was ready, Garjah pulled out. I hissed as the sensitive skin around my hole protested his movement, but I did enjoy taking a deeper breath when he collapsed on his side next to me. He pulled me over out of the wet spot.

“Sleep. You’ll need it.” Garjah caressed my back in long strokes. I wanted to ask what he meant, but exhaustion from the stress of worrying about meeting the Kardoval and the amazing orgasm he’d just fucked out of me rendered me mute. I closed my eyes and buried my face against his chest, ready for a good, long rest.

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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