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My whole fucking body spasms and wrenches, twisting and bucking and seizing as Iscreammy release. The orgasm tears through me like a firestorm, utterly destroying me, melting me down to nothing as I collapse on the floor.
Mal roars, fucking my limp, battered body until his fat cock swells and pulses violently, pumping his hot cum deep inside of me.
Holy. Fucking. FUCK.
I’m dimly aware of him pulling slowly out of me. I wince at the soreness that stabs through me. But fuck me, it’s a sweet, sweet pain.
Mal gently rolls me onto my back on the floor. For a second, I’m not sure what’s happening as he drops down between my legs.
Then I find out.
Oh, shit…
I mewl quietly, my eyes fluttering shut as I feel his tongue drag gently through my battered, swollen, bruised pussy lips. He groans into me, tonguing my aching clit and then pushing his tongue deep into me.
He doesn’t give a shit that he just came in there. He just slowly and gently devours me. Ten seconds ago, I would have sworn onmy life that I’d need a month to heal and re-sensitize before I could even think about orgasming again.
But a minute into Mal’s tongue between my legs, I realize I was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
When I come again, it’s a soft, rolling, wave that washes over me, tingling and teasing though my body as he tongues my clit. I’m still shaking and quivering as he slides up between my legs and over me. He holds himself there, his face inches from mine and his piercing eyes cutting deep into me.
Then he kisses me.
Hard.
My eyes fly open in surprise when I feel the warm, salty taste hit my tongue. Then I realize what’s happening, and it’s quite possibly the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever dreamed of.
Mal is pushing his own cum from my pussy into my mouth with his tongue.
I mean not evenmyfucked-up mind could have thought up that one.
His tongue wrestles with mine for a moment, our mouths locking before he slowly pulls away.
“I did tell you I was going to feed it to you.”
That he did.
That. He. Did.
26
MAL
The dreamalways starts the same.
I’m small again—just a boy—standing at the edge of the pool at my family’s estate. The night air is thick and suffocating, the smell of blood and smoke mingling into a bitter haze that clogs my lungs.
My hands shake as Uncle Lars shoves the garden hose into my hands.
“We’ve practiced this, Maleqqi,” he growls, his voice tight. He glances behind him, and I watch the glow of fire shade the tense lines of his jaw before he turns back to me.
“Hold onto the drain at the bottom, just like I showed you, so you don’t float back up. Keep the hose to your mouth. Breathe in, cover the end, exhaleslowly, so there aren’t any bubbles. Mal…”
I’m staring past him, my face ashen and my heart racing in my little veins as I watch the roof of our house erupt in an explosion of sparks and flame.
“MAL!”
