Heavy is the Head | A Striker x Reader Story

Bonfires on a Starry Night

In two strides, Striker was right in front of me, his arm encircling my waist to pull me flush against him. A small gasp escaped me as my palms pressed against his chest. I could feel his heart beneath my fingertips and I wondered if he could feel mine hammering in my own chest. 

Striker's lips found mine in a hungry kiss that conveyed more than words ever could. He tasted like whiskey and something I couldn't quite place, but it reminded me of bonfires under a starry night sky. My hands ran up his chest to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer. I wanted that sensation to swallow me whole. 

Picking me up, Striker moved towards an embroidered couch by the fire. I wrapped my legs around his waist, noting the hardness against my inner thigh. Just from the feel of it, I was not going riding tomorrow on a hunt. 

Sitting me on the edge of the couch, Striker knelt before me, a wicked grin on his lips. I felt breathless as his fingers slid beneath my skirts, pushing the fabric away. With a quick glance at my flush face, he disappeared beneath the skirts, fingers pressing gently against my thighs, bidding them to part for him. 

I laid back on the couch, letting Striker have access to the most private parts of my body. I anticipated the touch of him against my already slick folds but gasped as I felt his tongue. Two fingers slid effortlessly inside me as his tongue found my clit, working expertly until I was a mewling mess on the brink of an orgasm. 

Just as I was about to tumble over the edge into the sweet abyss, he pulled back just enough to prevent me from tipping over the edge. I moaned in frustration and I could feel his chuckle vibrating against my clit. The sensation made me all the more desperate for release. 

But instead, Striker pulled slowly back. When he emerged from under my skirts, he kept a grip on my thighs, grinning that wicked grin of his and said, "Let's get that damned dress off of you."