Page 34 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One
I followed her over the edge thanks to those tendrils, feeling their orgasmic reach without sending myself into a climax so soon.
Regardless, the intensity of their triumph ripped through me as I buried myself inside her, like a form of claiming in every sense of the word.
When the last tremors of pleasure subsided, I released the shadows binding her, catching her trembling form in my arms as she slumped against me.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, her body limp and sated as she gazed up at me with a dazed smile.
“You’re insufferable,” she murmured, her voice hoarse but tinged with amusement.
I smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“And you’re impossible. But I think we’ll manage.”
Her lips parted in that telltale smirk, competitive as always despite the way her chest still heaved, pulling in breath after ragged breath.
Those swollen, ruby-red lips were a perfect testament to the sinful ways she had tested my limits, yet somehow, her lipstick remained pristine.
I tilted my head, half-impressed by the durability of the damn thing.
“I’m impressed it lasted,” I murmured, brushing a thumb over the corner of her mouth. The curve of her lips deepened, her amusement flickering in those defiant eyes.
“Matte non-transfer from YSL,” she replied casually as if I should have known. “Are you going to buy me more?”
A huff escaped me, the sound half-laugh, half-exasperation.
“I’ll buy you all the shades you want if you’re ready to put that non-transfer claim to the test right now.”
Her eyes sparkled with the challenge, and I could see the exhaustion in the faint slump of her shoulders, the tremble of her thighs still suspended around me.
Yet even as her body screamed for reprieve, her spirit refused to yield. It was maddening and fascinating all at once.
She nodded, clearly up for the test, even if I could see her body’s limits creeping closer with every second.
The flicker of concern stirred within me, a foreign hum that I had to forcefully push down.
No. I couldn’t afford to coddle her, not now.
She wanted me, all of me, and I would give it to her. This wasn’t just about pleasure. This was about her proving she could handle what no one else had. It was about showing me she was worthy of every ounce of chaos and dominance I could deliver.
As she slipped from my arms, settling onto her knees before me, I felt a jolt of something visceral and primal.
The sight of her there, her head tilted up to meet my gaze, was almost reverent, like a disciple bowing before their master. My cock twitched at the thought, and I could do nothing but admire her as she worked to gather herself, tying her hair back in a makeshift bun with deft fingers.
The action itself was oddly alluring, practical, and deliberate, but the pout that followed as she realized she lacked a hair tie nearly broke through my composure.
She sighed, releasing her hair, expecting it to cascade down her back. Instead, her gaze lifted, catching on my hand as I held the silken bundle in my grasp.
I stroked the strands between my fingers, admiring their smooth texture and vibrant shine, before flicking my free hand. Shadows coiled around her hair, binding it securely in place with a ribbon of darkness.
Her cheeks flushed at the gesture, and her voice came soft and hesitant.
“Your touch…it was so tender.”
I smirked, dismissing her observation with a tilt of my head, even as I felt her words stir something deep within me.
Tenderness. Such a foreign thing for me. And yet, I… liked the way it sounded coming from her lips.
Her focus shifted, and her eyes fell to where I stroked my cock, my length slick and throbbing as I fought to temper myself.
