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“Harder.”
Again, I increase the strength.
“Fucking. Harder.” Before another attempt is made, he adds, “Clamp down on it.”
Yet again, as if no longer in control of my body, it does what it’s told.
“Those are my goddamn teeth, little prey,” insists my fiancé, “marking my territory.”
It’s impossible not to whimper and whine.
Rock my hips forward in spite of their being nothing waiting for me under the water.
“Marking my mate.”
Heavier and headier moans propel me closer.
Cause him to rub faster.
And faster.
Savagely snarl to the same sadistic speed of his stroking. “I wanna mark my fucking mate, Bryn.”
“Mark me,” I echo and continue to creep forward. “Please, fucking mark me, Wes.”
The instant I’m within reach, he snatches a fistful of my hair, yanks my head down to his thigh, and smashes the tip of his dick against my lips. “Open.”
Creating space is swift.
“Wider.”
Expanding further happens even quicker.
“Swallow.”
Sweltering rushes suddenly begin running rampant across my tongue in their race for the back of my throat while his animalistic bellows are barked into the star riddled sky. The feeling of my predator’s legs tensing against my cheek combined with his toes lightly teasing the very edge of my nipple not only has me eagerly guzzling but greedily moaning for more.
More pain.
More pleasure.
More Wes.
Chapter 5
Wes
The writing in Batman: The Long Halloween?
Incredible.
Intriguing.
At the very least, enjoyable.
As for Jeph Loeb, its author?
He’s a pure genius.
