“Your tight little cunt feels so good,” he mutters against my crown.
I’d answer if I could. But there’s no breaking the spell his cock has cast on me.
Every thrust slams raw, unfiltered pleasure into my core. Every twitch tightens the coil, pushing me further into the pool of euphoria, edging toward visceral and meteoric release.
Colter doesn’t miss that.
“That’s it, baby,” his ragged voice urges. “Come on this cock. Let it consume you. Let me fuck you up.”
My nails dig into the flesh at his sides, as I give himexactlywhat he asks for.
The world around me disappears with hefty sounds barreling out of my chest. My core spasm around Colter, extending to the rest of my body, until every muscle is wound tightly. He slams his hips upward, each time pushing me higher than the last, until I feel like I’m floating in the air.
Cresting over my orgasm, moisture explodes from my pussy. Colter slams into it greedily. He drives his hips into me harder, faster, while a crazed look takes over his features. Still pinned under his arms, I’m at his ruthless mercy for what comes next.
And it is heavenly.
“Ah, fuck,” he roars the words directly into my brain. “I’m gonna come… Fill your warm, wet cunt with my seed.”
I blush at his vulgarity, but it tickles a part of my brain that begs for more.
Then I remember, and my eyes widen so much, I worry they might fall right out of my head.
“Stop, Colter.” I move my hands up to his chest and try to break free. “I’m not—“
It’s too late.
His fierce bucking comes to a stop, and his cock swells and rattles against my walls. He lets out a harsh groan as a flood of his thick, hot, sticky cum splashes deep inside me.
Crumbling on the bed, with my cheek on his chest, we lay spent, panting and feeling over the fucking moon. But lost in my desire and my eagerness to see his release, I couldn’t tell him…
I’m not on the pill.
***
One Hour Later
“Who are you?” I ask, looking into his ever-watchful eyes.
He goes still beneath me.
“I’m not just a Crawford,” he says quietly. “And I’m not the man you think you know.”
“There’s something else,” he says, jaw tightening.
“Something worse?” I ask.
His gaze locks onto mine. “Something older. The Veil.”
The word lands heavy between us.
“They don’t forgive mistakes,” he continues. “And tonight, I made one.”
It was a simple question, but Colter’s answer and explanation of the events that led us down this path and to this point show me how deeply I have been kept in the dark. He tells the tale of the Veil and how they were born to usher in the future, so the rest of the world wouldn’t remain oblivious to what could be. He lays out the history of himself, his training, the abusive early years he endured and the violent life he has led as an adult.
Somehow, I find I can ignore it. I can ignore all of the murder, death and mayhem he wrought on his path to being here, with me. I have felt so much in our short time of knowing one another just from his gaze. I experienced so much that torment, anguish, desire, and longing don’t even begin to describe the state he’s left me in.
But looking into his eyes now, and seeing them bursting with an intense and overwhelming need for me, those feelings melt away. He never meant to cause me harm. It was his reaction to an outside attack on everything he was taught to believe.
