CHAPTER EIGHT
867 Words
General Lestor drew back slowly, a sensuous slide until only the tip of his shaft still remained within the Lucia’s body. Then he thrust all the way back inside. Lucia's channel throbbed wildly, spasming in a futile attempt to push out the massive invader. However for Lestor that drive him mad from ecstasy. He moaned with pleasure, holding the little girl ever tighter against his larger body.
“Oh f**k, so tight, so hot. Dear gods, but you feel so good…”
Lucia flushed, wishing she could see her master's face in that moment. But she did not dare twist around, but she longed to see the pleasure reflected in the older man’s expression, to know that she had put that look there, that the general wanted her, her the little servant girl, Lucia.
The little misfit.
A whimper broke free of her lips as Lestor pressed deeper, changing the angle of his entry. It was tighter, more uncomfortable—but all of a sudden an intense pleasure broke over Lucia's consciousness, and she cried out, her legs nearly collapsing, trembling under their double weight.
Lestor tilted Lucia's head back and took her lips, drinking Lucia’s moan within his own mouth, his own groan of need breaking free, his haunches beginning to thrust with more vigor.
Lucia was so out of it, that she hardly felt her arms rise up to encircle Lestor. She would have been horrified at her temerity if she had truly realized what she was doing. The sense of intimacy made her want to touch, to reciprocate what she was feeling.
Leaning back like this, she could see Lestor's face, parts of it anyway, and the expressions there enflamed Lucia's own passion. The fierce curl of Lestor's lip, his bared teeth, and the wild expression in his eyes made her shudder, and an untamed need beginning to pool within her.
She braced herself more firmly, pressing back against each thrust, feeling his shaft begin to ooze liquid that dripped to the floor. The sensation made her whimper, and she clenched her fingers upon Lestor's waist, clinging to anchor herself in the maelstrom that seemed to encircle them both.
Was this what she had been missing all this time?
No wonder others sought this out with such vigor. It was—beyond all words.
Her body tightened, her breath coming in gasps. Her wobbly legs slid a little on the floor with the force of Lestor's thrusts, and she leaned back farther, wanting more, needing more…something she doesn't know what. She was so close to a precipice she had never known…
Lestor's piercing gaze pinned her, made her feel a tightness in her chest, a coiling in her center that made breathing impossible, made her want to cry out, to reach…
Suddenly she was flying, pleasure bursting over her. Then she watched with dim amazement as Lestor's expression froze into a rictus of intense sensation, a deep, rumbling cry escaping his lips.
Lucia could feel his shaft pulse and felt his hot seed spurting deep within her body. The feeling of ownership, of possession, made her keen, furthering her own o****m.
As though in response to that thought, Lestor leaned over her, wrapped his arms tightly around Lucia's torso and growled with low menace, as though claiming her for his own.
Tears sprung to Lucia's eyes. That momentary feeling of belonging, of being linked to another… and it felt... It felt so beautiful. As the sensations slowly faded, she became aware of the discomfort of the situation: the weight of her lover, the weakness of her legs that threatened to fail beneath her, the soreness of her sweet channel as it twitched around the huge shaft that dominated it.
The comforting arms released her, and she almost wept at the loss. To know such a thing, and then have it taken away again… She had no illusions that the touch had meant anything beyond the moment—this might never come again. It could have been a temporary madness on Lestor's part, and he might well be disgusted once he realized what he had done.
Lucia'l fought to control herself. She could not dissolve into a weeping mass in front of her master. She had to be stronger than that, and maybe, just maybe, she might make it through this, however it ended up.
Because Lucia knew it in her heart, that she could not possibly hope for more.
Lestor moved upon her and shifted his weight as he pulled off of Lucia’s. He backed off slowly, though with a lack of grace that showed he was still affected by what had occurred.
Long fingers curled around Lucia's chin and lifted her face up for a kiss with a gentleness now that the passion was spent. Lucia closed her eyes, savoring each moment, the taste of her master sweet mouth upon her tongue.
“Come.” Lestor's voice held no harshness for once. “Lie with me, to rest. I will want you more this night.”
Lucia gulped. She' having a hard time believing her master's words. What does that means? Lucia was confused. Thoroughly confuse...
He still wanted her? But why??
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- Writer
