The Villain Ch. 06

Plenty of time for that in the future.

It took a little work to peel the stiff material off of her without causing too many aftershocks. Cupid didn't worry about the sticky mess that practically poured from between her legs without the tight outfit to hold it in. There would be plenty more by the time they were done. Besides, he expected a fair portion of it to be smeared across her back and the shower in his private bathroom would take care of that.

She wore no underwear. Cupid had felt that when he first slipped his hand beneath the fabric. Given the skin-tight nature of the outfit, even a thong would leave an impression for all to see. Besides, the material could offer more support than the best designed underwear ever produced.

Even knowing the truth did nothing to prepare him for the sight of her completely bare and half-sprawled on the couch before him. The tight costume left nothing to the imagination. And yet, somehow, even his deepest fantasies of this moment proved no more than a flicker compared to her brilliance.

Cupid's pulse raced. His fingers fumbled with his slacks, desperate to be divested of any clothes that prevented what was now inevitable. She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the pleasure so far to form a more coherent reply. Her body echoed his burning need but lacked the strength to aid or deny him.

Finally, Cupid managed to work his pants open, despite the engorged obstruction. He unceremoniously kicked off his shoes when he realized they kept him from removing his clothing fully. He caught one of her legs as he climbed onto the couch and shifted her body to lay along the length. He hooked her heel on the back of the couch to spread her wide before him.

Cupid forced himself to drink in the sight. For more than a year he had dreamed of this moment. His plans had been slow to culminate but her mocha skin, and the dark triangle of fuzz that pointed directly at the glistening red heat that beckoned to him, made it more than worthwhile.

Even though she clearly lacked any strength, and her foot remained firmly hooked on the top edge of the couch, Cupid shifted his leg up until his thigh nestled behind her knee. With his body planted on the couch, her legs were now trapped open. One arm draped off the edge of the couch while the other trailed up to fold beneath her lolling head. If anyone saw her like this they would likely demand a test for drugs. The knowledge that he had brought that about simply through pleasure was as almost intoxicating as her bare and willing flesh.

Sparrow felt the change in atmosphere, likely through the added weight on the couch, and rolled her head weakly to stare down her own body at him. Dim eyes widened slightly at the sight of his naked lower half. A flicker of fear passed across her face but could not hold beneath the weight of knowledge he had already born upon her. After the moment passed, she bit her lower lip and her breath shortened in nervous anticipation.

Cupid leaned forward. His face dipped toward her chest. His mouth closed around one firm nipple and her breath hitched. His teeth cemented its placement and her voice began a wordless tone, as if her body literally hummed with the tension that rapidly built within her once more. The first flick of his tongue sent her head back into the cushion and her back arching. Her body thrust her breast towards him; eager for everything he could give her.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't plunge right in. Cupid knew he would need to soon, or else he would spill himself over her dark skin. Given her revelations, however, he needed her a bit more ready, if he wanted her to leave with nothing but the best memories. So his solid length found her folds but used them as a guide to rub across her clit.

She was so wet he barely felt her flesh as it parted smoothly beneath him. His hips beat against hers, familiarizing her with the sensation before she took the full measure of him. Her arched back quickly began to buck as her screams started anew.

That was what he needed.

In one fluid motion Cupid slid back and plunged inside her. Her muscles could not hold him, as well lubricated as she had become. A brief pressure blocked his path but proved an obstacle, not a barrier. Sparrow let out a yelp as he broke through but quickly lost the pain beneath the layers of pleasure he had built within her in stages.

It was glorious! Everything Cupid had imagined and more. He began to pump his hips, thrusting himself hard and fast in and out of her. Despite the evidence of her lust, likely mixed with blood from her broken flesh, she clung tightly to him. He filled every inch of her and pushed back against those tender walls. His tip brushed against the rear edge of her with every pounding attack.

Sparrow's nipple pulled from the light grip of Cupid's teeth as she began to buck and writhe. The grin that split his face spoke of feral triumph. His legs penned her in place for his rough thrusts. One hand pressed against her shoulder, pinned her down, while his other held her bent elbow against the back of the soft couch to open her upper body to him as fully as her lower was.

Cupid allowed his power full release and lust, desire, and need filled her overflowing senses and splashed over onto him. Fire burned through his nerves and lent his muscles greater urgency and strength. His hips crashed against hers; pounding him as deeply as his body could manage. His groin filled to unbearable pressure. Electricity ran beneath his very skin.

One last time, he threw his body forward. Cupid wasn't so much buried within her as entrapped by her. On the very edge of his own climax, he swelled to the very limits of his skin and stretched her well beyond their ability to smoothly glide across each other, regardless of the lubrication she produced.

Sparrow's barked screams, now shading to horse, held more than a hint of pain once more. Cupid was beyond caring. The furnace, the supernova star, that was her lust radiated its heat directly into him to ignite the volcano within him. All of the built up heat and pressure raced out of him and exploded inside her.

Instinct forced his hips to begin thrusting once more, despite his predicament. Flesh ground against flesh, unable to pull away. Cupid groaned and sighed, euphoric over the depths that he poured his essence into; untouched territory. He marked her, not only claimed by right of primacy but through psychology. She had submitted to him and would thank him for despoiling her and beg for anything he chose to do to her.

Cupid collapsed on top of her. It didn't matter that he weighed nearly twice as much as the young heroine or that his leg accidentally pushed hers nearly to the limit of articulation. She was a fire beneath him and a solid mass on which he could recover. As maddening as he had found the need to delay his own gratification, to draw her more fully under his control, it had been worth it. Even if he never again fucked her, that had been one of the most pristine orgasms he had ever experienced.

Even as Cupid began to get his breath back under control, he began to soften. Without the unrelenting pressure that had filled him, he could once more slide free of her. Now that he was a bit more in control of himself, he pushed off of her more gently to collapse against the opposite corner of the couch.

"How do you feel?" Cupid asked with a self-satisfied smirk. He doubted she could even form a thought, much less answer him. He was right. She mumbled something unintelligible. She had yet to move despite the opal essence that began to pour out of her and seep between those perfect cheeks.

"Ah. In that case, I shall take the first shift in the shower." Cupid continued. "You are, of course, free to join me. If you can find the energy and courage for much more of the same."

Truthfully, Cupid wasn't certain he had it in him for another round so soon after such an Earth-shattering finish. He could, of course, always use his power to revive himself, if she did manage to join him. He suspected that she would remain immobile on his couch well into the evening, however.

As for her courage, it didn't much matter. He knew from experience how addictive sequential multiple orgasms could be. Even the most repressed personality would eventually fight to find a reason not to return, rather than the other way around.

Besides, as helpless as she was now, he might even offer her to one of the more versatile dancers. There were one or two who enjoyed women, even one still spoiled by the remnants of a male lover. Cupid smiled to himself and nodded in confirmation. That would work well, especially since those dancers provedvery grateful for the opportunity. Later, he knew, his seed would coat front and back of another woman.

Not a bad reward for a night's work. Cupid thought as he glanced out the window on his way to the shower.

Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx