Blurred and blissful, dizzied from the power of the climax, I draw my cock out from between those lush lips and watch her throat flex as she swallows my cum. She wipes her mouth and chin with part of my discarded shirt, then gets to her feet.
“If you think we’re done, you’re fucking insane,” I tell her raggedly. “You’re next.”
“But we should—”
“You’re next.” My tone leaves no room for debate. “Into the pantry, now. Take everything off and lie down on those linens.”
A glint of rebellion sparks in her eyes. “So bossy,” she says, but she heads for the pantry.
I take a moment to check the drawers and look for an item that suits my plan. Luckily I find a silver spoon with a thick, rounded handle that’s perfectly smooth and well-polished. I wipe it off with soap and water, then stride into the pantry.
Devilry is reclining on the linens. Her expression is half dark defiance, half sweet anticipation. It hurts to see the bruises, bandages, and cuts on her body, and to know that she gave that healing candy to me, when she could have used it herself.
Her expression darkens more the longer I stand in the doorway. “I don’t want your pity, Ravager,” she says sharply. “Stop thinking and come do bad things to me.”
I can’t help a wry laugh. It’s so like her to resist sympathy and crave ferocity. And it’s unlike me to feel sympathy foranyone at all. I’m generally a callous person. I feel mild compassion for the young and the helpless, for children or animals, but beyond that, I generally assume that people either deserve their misery or that it’s not my problem. Maybe it’s because I see so much misery in my line of work, and if I allowed it to be my problem, I would lose my mind over all the pain in the world.
Devilry sighs and shifts her body like she’s impatient, like we simply don’t have the time for this, but I plan to make the fucking time.
“Do you want me to violate you, Devilry?” I ask.
Her eyes light up with profane delight, and she nods.
“Then open your fucking legs for me, sweetheart. You know what I want to see. How slick did you get while you were sucking me off? Use your hands to show me.”
She spreads her legs wide, each foot braced against the opposite rows of cabinets. Her fingers probe between her thighs, finding each plump lip and stretching them apart. They’re glossy with her arousal, and so are her inner thighs. She’s so wet she’s dripping as she lies there, holding herself open for me.
Never before have I been able to get hard this quickly after an orgasm, but the blood is definitely surging to my cock again. Maybe it’s the air of Faerie. Their magic is connected to sex, after all. It makes sense that it could influence human physiology too, especially in a place as magically charged as this fortress.
Whatever the reason, I’m getting another hard-on. But I don’t plan to indulge myself again until she has come at least once.
I take the silver spoon from behind my back, and Devilry’s eyes widen. I can practically see her gauging the length and width of its handle and figuring out how I’m planning to use it. She starts to close her legs, but I stop her with an abrupt, “No. If you move, I’m tying you in place. Trust me, like I trust you.”
She glares at me like the naughty girl she is, but she remains spread out, open to my touch. As I kneel between her legs, I notice the eager quiver of her pussy and the tightness of her nipples. She’s flushed, her pupils dilated to wide, dark circles.
Lightly I touch the end of the smooth silver handle to her clit.
“Oh,” she says in the tiniest voice, and she trembles.
I keep the rounded end of the handle there for a moment to let it warm against her flesh. Then I slide it down through her slippery center and glide it back and forth at her entrance, lubricating it well.
“Relax, love.” I touch her thigh, and she yields, her muscles loosening. As she succumbs, I slide the silver object into her body. She gasps with soft pleasure.
Carefully I pulse the silver length in and out of her, admiring the contrast of its shiny wet surface with the pink suction of her pussy.
“I wish you could see how pretty your cunt looks right now,” I tell her. “How does it feel?”
“Like magic,” she whispers.
“Good.” I keep thrusting into her, holding the improvised toy with my left hand while my right fingers find her clit. I squeeze the little bit of flesh with my thumb and forefinger, and she whimpers.
“Hush, sweetheart,” I croon, massaging the tender nub with my fingertips. I watch her expression, adjusting the angle of my touch now and then, switching between rapid little rubs and rhythmic petting to keep her titillated.
“Right there,” she pants at last. “Oh, just like that. Yes, yes, Ravager, Ravager!” She’s nearly screaming, and then her cunt begins convulsing around the silver handle. I press two fingers over her clit while I watch her pussy flutter through those prettylittle spasms. Nothing has ever given me as much delight as watching her come.
I slide the silver object out of her opening and drape myself over her body, sucking on those trembling little tits with my mouth. Her fingers dig against my scalp, raking hard, curling convulsively into my hair. She’s still panting beneath me, legs spread wide as she comes down from the orgasm.
“You perfect fucking beauty.” I kiss her collarbone, then her mouth. My cock, freshly hard, rubs along her clit, and she whines at the contact.
