Mark of the Damned | 18+

Wildfire

Song - Wildfire by Cautious Clay

Lying on the floor in his arms as light from the newly risen sun shines through the small window, I feel different. Everything I thought I understood about myself and life in general, has completely changed overnight.

His heart thumps beneath my head, a slow, steady rhythm that makes me feel peaceful.

I feel transformed. I never knew anything could feel so good. Sitting up, I wince at the deep, tender pain between my legs and deep in my stomach. The ache is only a physical reminder of our bodies together, of the hours of pleasure he gave me.

His large, heavy hand comes down to rest on my stomach as he grumbles something.

"What?" I whisper.

"I said, where are you going?" His voice is thick and tired.

"I have to make breakfast for the crew."

He mumbles something before sliding me across the floor and lifting his head into my lap. His nose and mouth are dangerously close to my bare sex.

He inhales a deep, slow breath. After last night, he is well acquainted with my intimate areas, but it still makes me blush. A low, rumbling groan instantly warms my blood. I'm not sure how this is supposed to work, but I'm burning for him. It doesn't seem to matter that he had his way with me all through the night. The heat is no less scorching.

Gripping my thighs, he spreads my legs open.

"Cooper," I protest so weakly that it comes out more like a breathy whimper.

"You smell like me," he growls before licking a slow, wet strip from the bottom to the top.

Gasping, I try to close my legs, but his head is in the way. "Cooper! Everyone will hear us."

"I don't care. Let them hear. I want them to know. I want them to hear the way you sound when my cock is buried inside you. I want them to smell me on your skin."

"Won't we get in trouble?" I know well enough by now that the men outside that door are not going to care even in the slightest. I just can't shake the nervousness ingrained in me from a lifetime of listening to my mother.

He chuckles before burying his face between my legs again.

The self-consciousness is lost in the background as he licks and sucks me until I can barely contain myself. I'm trying to be quiet, but I'm losing control of my body. My chest arches up all my muscles burn. Instinctively, my legs try to close, to force him away just so that I can take a breath, but he pins me down. His hands hold me, spreading wide open as he eats with ravenous hunger like the men eat their meals.

The pressure in my stomach bursts open, and a flood of heat pools between my legs. Gripping his hair in one fist and biting into the other, I desperately try to bite back the scream that is pressing on my throat.

His hand comes up, yanking my arm away from my mouth, and a piercing, shaky cry fills the small room.

Moving quickly, he sits up on his knees. When he grips himself in one hand while plunging one of his fingers into me, I cry out again.

He groans loudly as spurts of creamy white fluid shoot out of him onto my stomach and chest.

"Fuck," he grunts, using two of his fingers to spread me open. "What a perfect little cunt."

Bucking my hips forward, I open my mouth to beg him to slide into me. No matter how good all of this feels, it's not enough. I want him so tightly pressed between my legs that we can't physically be closer. I want him to spread me open and fill the empty place inside me.