Hungry

She wasn’t hungry. She was starving.

A creature made of heat and menace, driven by a need that didn’t give a damn about patience or mercy.

She hauled him in like she was dragging prey, nails scraping hard over his skin, marking him as hers before he could breathe.

Her mouth slammed into his. Violent, messy, a kiss that tasted of smoke, sin and nights that never end clean.

His heart kicked up. His breath faltered.

He’d fantasised, sure… but nothing prepared him for being hunted.

For being chosen by the woman who burned like a fuse.

He wanted her. All of her.

But the question throbbed at the back of his mind — could he survive this?

She tore open his shirt, buttons flying, the fabric discarded without a second’s thought.

Her mouth dragged over him, hot, reckless, hungry, her tongue a streak of heat down his chest.

Then the brutal flick of his jeans button, the brutal unzip, the brutal shove, everything she did was urgent.

He stumbled out of his clothes, giving himself up without knowing how to stop.

And she stood there. Naked, unholy in the neon bleed from the street.

Skin gleaming like metal fresh from the forge.

Red hair wild, untameable, fire at the edges.

Breasts heavy, full, daring him to use his teeth.

She seized him by the jaw, dragged him into another devouring kiss.

Wanting. Taking. Claiming.

She shoved him onto the bed. Not a suggestion, not an invitation, but a command written in heat.

She straddled him, locked his wrists above his head, and bent low, her breasts brushing his face like a threat and a promise.

His cock throbbed painfully, frantic for her.

She slid forward, her pussy slick and open, lips framing his shaft, her clit grinding hard against the head of his cock.

She rocked slowly at first, torture disguised as tenderness.

He strained beneath her, balls tightening, breath broken.

Her pace shifted, faster, rougher, her moans dragging out of her like something feral and ancient waking in the dark.

He was close. Too close.

Her scent, her heat, the squeeze of her pussy, the hunger twisting in her voice.

She stopped. Abrupt. Cold. Dangerous.

She stood him up and turned him to face her.

She sat on the edge of the bed. Dragged him by the hips as if he weighed nothing.

Opening her mouth, swallowing him, taking him deep, aggressive and wet.

Her hand worked his length, pre-cum smearing across her lips. Salty, sweet, musky.

He reached for her breast. She growled, a low animal warning. He pulled back, fingers disappearing into her hair instead.

She worshipped him with her mouth and ruined him with it. Licking, sucking, taking him to the root, then down to his balls, drawing out sounds he didn’t know he could make.

Then she stopped again.

A wicked, lazy smile, her fingers stroking his shaft with an almost tender cruelty, guiding him down from the edge but not letting him fall.

She kissed him, slow, soft, deceptive.

Is that it? he wondered. We haven’t even—

She didn’t let him finish the thought.

She slipped onto the bed, onto all fours, back arched, arse high, looking back at him with a dare that hollowed him out.

Her pussy glistened, her clit swollen and desperate.

He moved toward her carefully, stroking himself, breath ragged.

He tapped his cock against her entrance, seeking permission, trembling with want.

She moaned, low and broken.

He pressed in gently, a knock at the gates of paradise.

She shoved back, opening for him in a way that stripped the thought from his skull.

He grabbed her hips and thrust deep.

A gasp. A savage moan. She pushed back violently, meeting him stroke for stroke.

He groaned as her pussy clenched around him, ripples of heat dragging him deeper into madness.

She moved harder, faster, demanding he match her.

He thrust with everything he had, harder, deeper, losing himself.

She screamed, raw and primal as her body convulsed around him, her cunt gripping him like it wanted to keep him forever.

The force of her orgasm tore a matching one out of him, brutal, overwhelming, spilling him in violent waves that left him shaking, gasping, barely standing.

She rose smoothly. Smiled, soft, wicked, satisfied. Slipped her dress back on and padded out the door...

Mirands xox

I don't know about you, but that made me as horny as hell to write!

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