Sweetest Rot — Part 2
My heart is trying to beat its way out of my throat. I can feel it in my cock. And Laura's looking at me like she knows it. She’s straddling my thigh and she’s already dripping, and I haven’t even touched her yet.
The fight's done. We're alone. She grabs my face like she's going to tear it off and kisses me so hard our teeth clack together.
She breaks off, panting, red hair all in her eyes. “Not bad, tough guy,” she says, voice lower. Her fingers are already undoing the buckles at my chest, which is funny, because I’m still holding her up by the ass.
“Keep up, or I’ll leave you behind,” I say, and she smirks, diving back into the kiss.
“Wanna bet?” she says, but she doesn’t wait for my answer. Her hands get the latches off my breastplate. It clangs onto my foot. It hurts but not enough to kill my boner. She goes straight for the padded undershirt, jerks it over my head, and goes to work on my belt.
She shoves me backwards, straight into a black, yawning hole in the hillside: the cave mouth we spotted on the approach, probably goblin storage, but now it’s a fuck palace and neither of us cares if it smells like dead animal. I let her take point, backing up until my ass smacks a stone shelf and she’s yanking at my waistband like it insulted her family.
“Inside,” she says, voice a little desperate, and I laugh in her face, which only makes her madder.
“You first,” I tell her, and she knees me in the thigh, hard enough to make me stagger.
Fine. I grab her, half-carrying, half-dragging her deeper into the cave. It’s cooler in here, the air thick and humid. Water drips somewhere in the dark. My boots crunch on bone. I glance down. Human femur. Whatever. Her hand is on my cock and danger can fuck off.
She slams me against the wall. “Take off your pants,” she says.
“Say please,” I reply, just to watch her lose it.
She grabs my hair, yanks my head back, bites my jawline, and says, “If you don’t fuck me in the next minute I’m going to do it myself.”
I love her.
I get the pants off, barely, before she’s kneeling in front of me, hands already fishing out my cock. She looks up once, and her pupils are black and wide, animal as hell. I could push her down, fuck her face until she begs. But this works, too.
Her hands are cold at first, then warm up as she works me over. She spits in her palm and rubs it in, mouth hanging open, tongue out. My cock jumps in her hand, and she laughs like she’s tamed a wild dog.
“Did you miss me?” she says, voice mocking, but she’s already stroking, slow at first, then fast. Blood’s still smeared all over my chest, and I wonder if she’s going to lick it off.
She does, actually, dragging her tongue across my ribs, tasting sweat and old metal and whatever passed for lunch. She leaves a red streak behind, then latches onto my nipple and bites it, sharp and sudden.
“Fucking Christ,” I grunt. “You’re going to rip it off.”
“That’s the idea,” she says, and drops her mouth to my dick.
The first touch is a shock: she goes deep, no warmup, hand braced on my thigh so hard I can feel her nails digging in. She's sloppy as hell. Spit everywhere. She gags on the first push, then does it again, like she’s challenging herself. I lean my head back, thump it against the cave wall, and let her go to town.
Her other hand comes up to cradle my balls, rolling them around with zero finesse, squeezing like she’s checking for bruises. She gets into a rhythm, sucking hard, then twisting her hand near the base, and I almost lose it in the first thirty seconds. I’m tougher than that, but not by much.
She pulls off, breathless, wipes her mouth with the back of her arm, which leaves a gross streak of blood and drool.
“Bet you can’t last,” she says, grinning.
“Bet you can’t make me,” I shoot back, but my voice cracks on the last word.
She takes that as a challenge, goes back to work, slower now, tongue swirling around the tip, hand pumping, face tilted up so she can watch me struggle. If I play dead, she’ll punch me in the dick.
Behind her, the cave is pitch black, but I can see her in perfect focus. Red hair, flushed cheeks, those fuck-off shoulders, and the way her breasts press against the tight leather of her vest, even though it’s half-unlaced. I reach down, palm the back of her head, force her deeper. She gags again, and I let up, don’t want her to suffocate. Not yet.
She pulls back, gasping, spit everywhere, and says, “Getting close, tough guy?”
“You wish,” I lie.
She goes at it with both hands this time, twisting and squeezing, tongue flicking the underside, and I lose track of time. My legs are shaking. My balls are tight. I look down and see her looking up, eyes locked on mine, and I know I’m about to blow.
She knows, too. She goes in for the kill, mouth all the way down, nose buried in my pubes. I explode, and she takes it, no flinch, no hesitation, swallows everything like a fucking champion.
She pulls off, wipes her chin, and grins up at me.
“Not bad,” she says. “But next time, you’re eating me out first.”
She doesn’t look away. There’s still blood on her face, and now there’s cum on her lips, and I’ve never wanted to ruin someone so hard in my life. The cave can collapse. The world can burn. I don’t care.
I haul her up and kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue.
My pulse is a drumline in my ears. Thump-thump-thump. Louder than his grunts, louder than anything.
He’s still up against the cave wall, hair wet with sweat and spit, face slack like he’s about to pass out, but he’s too stubborn for that. I watch his chest rising and falling. There’s a new scar brewing under his collarbone, and I want to put my tongue on it. So I do.
I crawl up him slow, palms splayed over his abs, my nails raking the sticky blood. I bury my face in his neck and bite him, not gentle, and he grunts, one hand already digging into my hip like he’s worried I’ll float away. He drops to his knees, taking me with him.
“You’re all mine now,” he says, voice hoarse.
“Who’s on his knees now?” I pant, trying to purr, but the words come out breathless.
I straddle him, knees braced on the weirdly soft ground. It gives under my weight, like a waterlogged mattress. Not what I expected from goblin real estate. I put a hand down for balance and my fingers brush something hard and smooth just under the surface.
Curious, I press my fingers into the gel. It's a skull with its jaw missing. A cold spike of run shoots up my spine. But Michael's hands are on my armor, and a hotter, dumber thought shoves it aside: Bet he screamed. I can make Michael scream louder.
He fumbles the first buckle, swears, and goes for the next one. It sticks. He yanks, nearly yanks me sideways, and we both collapse in a pile. My shoulder smacks the ground, and I yelp, but I don’t stop laughing. He’s on top of me, half naked and cursing.
“Armor’s a bitch,” he mutters.
“Better men have tried,” I shoot back, arching up so he can get at the straps. He pops one loose, then another, and my vest peels away, sticky with sweat and rain. I slide out of it, tits spilling into the cold cave air, and his eyes go wide. I swear he’s seen them a hundred times, but you’d think I had a new pair every season.
He leans in, buries his face between them, and I squeeze his head with my arms, making a show of it. He lifts me up, hands under my ass, and walks us deeper into the cave until he finds a flat spot. He slams me down on the bouncy surface. It flexes and I bounce. We both laugh, then go back to kissing, sloppy and hard.
He slides his hand down my thigh, finds the knot in my leggings, and pops it with one yank. My pants slide off, and I kick them away, toes curling in the soft, rubbery stuff beneath us. I dig my heel in to feel it. It’s addicting.
He drops to his knees between my legs, runs both hands up my thighs, and bites the inside of my knee. He loves leaving marks. I let him, but I pull his head higher, right where I want him.
He pauses, gives me a look. “Need something?”
“Use your tongue,” I tell him, and he smirks at me.
He licks up the inside of my thigh, slow and warm, then blows a cold breath on my pussy. It makes me twitch. He grins, then goes in, tongue broad and flat, burying his face until his nose is pressed against me. I grab his hair, hard, and grind into his mouth.
Cocky bastard. He alternates slow laps with hard flicks, every so often looking up to see if I’m watching. I always am.
Every sound we make bounces right back at us. He slams me down and the ground flexes, bouncing me right back up into his mouth. The dark is full of little pink glows. They pulse every time I clench.
I want to make him work for it, but he knows all the shortcuts. He hums against me, tongue stiff, and I lose my shit. I grab his hair and ride his face, clenching so hard my vision whites out.
He doesn’t stop until I’m gasping for air, slick all over, and my thighs are shaking so bad I have to lie down flat.
He sits back, chin shiny, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You always this loud?”
“Only when you earn it,” I shoot back, voice shaky.
He drags himself up beside me, flops down, and we lie there in the cool dark, the only light that weird pink pulse from the floor.
“What is this stuff?” I ask, digging my finger into the rubbery ground.
“Don’t care,” he says, rolling over to pin me again. “I’m not done.”
I laugh and it echoes into the dark until it sounds feral. He grabs my hips again. Good. He should. I’m not done with him either.
She’s sprawled out, chest heaving, face still twisted up from the last orgasm, and I climb over her like a neanderthal. She runs her fingers through my hair, then tugs hard, yanking my face down to hers. Her mouth tastes like stolen liquor and blood and I want more. Fuck winning. I just want this.
The cave floor gives under my knees, soft and unstable. This ground is wrong. Every push, every shift of weight, the surface squishes and rebounds, adding an unpredictable rhythm.
Laura wraps her legs around me, ankles locking above my ass. She’s strong, squeezing like a vise. I feel every muscle, every tremor. She bites my shoulder, nails digging in, and I almost lose it right there.
“You’re mine tonight,” I murmur, and she arches closer, urging me on.
I pin her wrists above her head and she fights me for half a second just to feel the struggle before she melts into it. The ground pulses pink under us like it’s watching, and I realize the light is real, a soft bioluminescence spreading wherever our bodies meet the surface.
Weird, but not my problem.
Her whole body arches under me, and she’s so slick I slide right in, no friction, no resistance. She drags me in, greedy, like she owns my cock already. I push deep, bottom out, and she gasps, head snapping back to smack the cave floor. I watch the pulse of light under her, and for a second it feels like the ground itself is trying to fuck her, too.
She bucks hard, meeting every thrust, and we’re both grunting now, no room for pride or dignity. The floor keeps flexing, making every move unstable, so I double down, bury my face in her tits, bite the skin until she hisses and writhes.
Her hands break loose, grab my face, pull me up so she can look me in the eyes. “Don’t stop,” she says, and I never would.
The cave gets warmer. The air thickens. Our bodies slide against each other, filthy and raw, but I can’t imagine anything better.
She comes again, whole body shaking, and I ride it out, barely holding back. The sound she makes is feral, echoing. Loud enough to draw every fucking monster in the woods. Let them come. I don’t care. I chase her over the edge, pump until I'm empty, and fucking unload.