Her Soul to Take - Harley Laroux Page 0,69

cock up against my entrance. I began to gasp, the sheer anticipation making me shake. He eased me up, holding me tight, so I was on my knees leaning back against him with his cock poised to enter me.

He kissed my neck, and whispered, “Shh, shh, little doll. Catch your breath. Are you ready?”

I took several long, slow breaths. My hands were shaking at my sides, my legs were trembling, my body a flooded mess of endorphins. He left more kisses up my neck, across my jaw, and turned my face to take my mouth. I wanted to cry — not from pain but from the intensity, from the rush of it all — and a few tears made their escape as our mouths parted.

“I’m ready,” I whispered.

He took his time entering me, and damn did I need it. I’d played with small anal plugs before; they were nothing in comparison to him. He barely got the first ridge of his head in before I was tapping his leg, squirming. He held me there, soothing me, a gentle monster despite all the viciousness.

Deeper — tighter — slowly he filled me completely. He curled his body over mine, arms tight around me, one hand holding my face in a grip that was half tender and half brutal. He tipped my head back, so it rested against his shoulder, and my back arched.

“All mine, fuck doll,” he whispered, moving inside me. My eyes fluttered shut, and his hand caressed down my body, tucked between my legs and massaged my clit. “All mine.”

He fucked into me slowly but deep. The touch of his hand wound me tighter, the pleasure clenching my muscles until I squeezed around him, and his pace grew rougher. I was stunned I could fit him, stunned I could take it — and he was going to make me come again from fucking my ass.

“Come on my cock, doll,” he commanded. “Come for me.”

My orgasm wasn’t an explosion but a massacre — it shattered inside me and had me crying, breathless, shaking as my arousal dripped down my legs. He held me so tight I couldn’t move an inch. I could only kneel there, bound up in his arms, my body overwhelming me.

Fuck doll. His fuck doll. It was the only thought left. I was floating in darkness, swaddled in sin, vibrating with the wicked culmination of my fantasies coming to life. He was rough now, my muscles loosened enough to take it. When his cock began to throb in my ass, I could feel every pulsation.

The way he moaned before he came inside me was easily the hottest thing I’d ever heard. I melted into him as he swelled hot inside me. I reached back with a shaking hand, finding the hair at the nape of his neck and gripping, as if I’d never let go, as if I could keep him there forever.

Leon laid me out on the couch and left me there, but I could hear him moving somewhere in the house. Cabinets softly closing, the creak of floorboards, a burbling sound like boiling water. In high school, there had been a brief period of time where I’d thought I would get into track and field, but even then, even after my most intense training, I hadn’t been so utterly drained. Every last ounce of energy in me had been leached away, my limbs were limp and capable of nothing more than the occasional twitch.

He’d meant it when he said he’d destroy me. He’d done exactly that. I was sore, high on the afterglow, eyes half-lidded as I lay there and stared at the coffee table. I’d never be able to look at that thing the same way again.

It was my sacrificial altar, the shrine on which I’d offered up my sins to a demon to eat.

“Raelynn.”

I jumped half-way into a sitting position, only to groan at the head rush it gave me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. He’d dressed, and as I leaned back on the couch, he held out a plate and a steaming mug.

“Tea and cookies?” I took it as he offered them, blinking rapidly in shock. He’d made my favorite mint tea — not that he could have possibly known it was my favorite — and stacked three chocolate chip cookies on the plate.

He sunk down on the opposite side of the couch, looking wearier than I’d ever seen him. Our fuckfest must have taken the last of his strength; even the

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