Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,124

throat, squeezing just hard enough to feel her pulse throb desperately against my thumb. Her pussy beat around me in time with that rapid rhythm, tight walls sucking at me, forcing me to pump harder and deeper. I was at the end of that snug channel, each hit against her cervix causing her to cry out in pain and ecstasy.

“Yes,” she chanted breathlessly, legs shaking as an orgasm began to build. “Oh, my God.”

It wasn’t enough.

The animal inside me, that beast that ruled my body in the deep dark, reared its ugly head and declared war on Bea’s tight little body. I bent to savage the tips of her pink breasts with my teeth, grunting hard when she tried to thrash against me.

“Priest, Priest,” she chanted brokenly, tears gathering in her wet velvet blue eyes as I pounded into her pussy, showing my irrevocable ownership of it. “Please, I, I can’t…It’s too much. I-I-I––”

“That’s it,” I rasped against her throat before I pinned my teeth there, biting hard enough to feel the tang of blood.

That did it.

The sharp, hard pressure broke Bea open beneath me like a Christmas cracker, her limbs shaking, pussy flooding around my pistoning cock.

It wasn’t enough for me.

I needed more.

The total decimation of her sanity.

I wanted her to come apart on my cock and have to beg me breathlessly to stop.

She’d stripped me down to the studs tonight. I owed it to her to do the same.

I flipped her over before she could recover, her hands twisting in the lights, fingers wrapping instinctively around the headboard for balance as I rucked her hips up and back. My cruel hands on her little waist bit into the skin as I thrust her back on my cum-wet cock.

Her head tossed back, haloed hair flying as she grunted and cried out at the depth of me inside her. I wrapped a hand around that hair, using it as reins to pin her head back so I could watch passion contort that pretty face.

With the other hand, I tested the pliancy of her sweet, round ass.

Smack.

A sharp gasp giving way to a whimper.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Her skin was deepening from peachy pink to vivid red, my handprint stamped into her delicate flesh.

Mine, mine, mine.

I must have growled the words aloud because Bea mimicked back, “Yours, yours, yours.”

I smacked her hard, loving the jiggle of that peachy ass, loving the fierce cries falling from her lips to the bed the way her wet cunt dripped to the sheets beneath my driving dick.

“You’re mine,” I ground out as my balls tightened, the base of my spine clenching hard with the need to blow inside her tight cunt. “You’re mine in life; you’re mine in death. We’re never gonna be fuckin’ parted, mo cuishle. I’ll haunt you, I’ll haunt you, I’ll haunt you.”

Tears streamed down her face, the red rims making her eyes so intense a blue they glowed neon as she looked over her shoulder at me, mouth swollen and blooming open around her harsh breath. “I’ll haunt you,” she echoed.

I landed one last resounding slap to her ass and clutched her hard to me with biting hands, forcing her to practically sit on my lap totally impaled on my cock. She cried out as I started to come deep inside her, palming her throat hard to choke off the cry and drive her higher.

She came seconds after I did, warmth flooding my cock and balls as I filled her up, and for a second, just a moment, all I felt was total peace.

Priest

I held her in the come down, hand still at her throat though softer, thumb stroking over her jugular as I licked a bead of sweat off her jaw and nipped at the slanted bone there. She sighed frequently as she settled, little kittenish sounds that made my spent cock stir lazily inside her. One of her hands stroked over my forearm, rucking up the fabric so she could paint little circles with her fingertips on my wrist. It was a simple, intimate touch that almost rocked me more than my fucking phenomenal orgasm.

Bea wasn’t the first woman who had touched me like this, but it felt as if she was. I hadn’t known such tenderness since I was a lad when my parents were still alive and loving me. Each touch triggered an echo in my chest, sorrowful and pleasant all at once. The contraction was one of many between my Little Shadow and me, our opposite natures contracting