tagSci-Fi & FantasyKiss of the Night

Kiss of the Night


She is restless.

She paces back and forth across her bedroom floor, the shimmering light of the full moon, bathes the floor in silver. The French doors are open to the courtyard, wispy curtains blow in the soft sea breezes, yet she is hot in her black lace gown. Her hand travels to her throat and she longs for his caress once again. She hears the ocean crashing on the rocks below her haven on the cliff, but those sounds are drowned by her own thoughts, crashing about in her head.

When will he come? Where is he? Why isn't he here? Her fist pounds against the door frame in frustration.

She is wet with longing. She lies on her bed, touching herself, rising again, unable to satisfy her own lust and looks out of the window. The moon is full in a cloudless sky. The leaves rustle. Were those his footsteps?


Her breasts ache for his touch and her palms press against them hard; she brushes her fingertips across her full, red lips, imagining his demanding and hungry kiss; they trail down her pale throat, imagining his thirst.

She turns and he is there. She smiles slowly taking in his handsome form as he seems to glide across the floor to her. She trembles in his presence, like an addict before a fix. He caresses her hair, her face, running his thumb across her full, red lips possessively. She moans, her head rolling back in pleasure, and she hears an impatient growl deep in his throat as his hands find her taut nipples beneath the lace. She gasps in lust as he takes handfuls of lace neckline, ripping it away from her body, leaving the delicate fabric hanging in shreds from her pale shoulders.

A step more and he pushes her against the wall, kissing her passionately. She returns his kisses, one leg traveling up his own. Between his legs, she feels his passion for her. Her eyes implore Him to enter her, knowing it is fruitless to beg him openly. It is always on his terms and in his time, when he is ready. She will wait. He will make her wait, he will torture her which becomes her pleasure and her pain.

Silently, deliberately, he unbuttons his trousers and she feels the Gift: his blood-filled, swollen cock against her thigh. She gasps, her eyes meeting his steely gaze. He lifts her effortlessly, and she wraps her legs around his hips and forcefully slides his diamond-hard member into her wetness. He possesses her slowly at first, feeling her ready to meet him, swallowing him as surely as he would swallow her upon completion.

An ornately framed painting rattles against the wall as he begins pounding her against the wall with greater fervor. Her moans turn louder with pleasure and desperation, begging to be delivered by him. Her head rolls to one side, exposing her creamy-white throat, reminding him once again why he came to her. But he bides his time, thrusting into her repeatedly, owning her, making her his. He does not speak, but stares into her eyes, holding them as he takes her. He is driven on by her hunger, she is driven on by his thirst. His thrusts become more powerful as he feels the walls of her sanctuary close about him. He smiles lasciviously, pushing deeper, demanding her surrender. That surrender comes from deep within her and he is somewhat gratified that she lasts this long. His fingers dig into the tender skin of her ass as he fills her with his own climax. Her body shakes, but he continues driving into her -- over and over and over, his seed spewing out of her, covering them both and flowing out to find the floor below.


He wants more from her. He lowers his face to her breasts, and, as he continues to crash into her, he forcefully sucks her perfect pearls into his mouth through the remnants of midnight lace left hanging from her voluptuous body. She screams as she is brought to climax once again, feeling her nipples being strained between his teeth. She knows the pleasure of his pain has only just begun.

She drags her nails across His broad shoulders, digging into His neck, down His back. And, as she screams with yet another climax, her body convulsing upon Him, He lowers His head to her throat and takes the sweet liquid treasure for which he came. He takes her sweetness, red and flowing; He draws it into Himself, feeling alive once more.

And for a time, both are sated.

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byKennedyFlynn© 6 comments/ 15137 views/ 3 favorites

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