Creatures

TWENTY-EIGHT

He caught her just outside the building, walking to her car.

Tristan spun her around, grabbed her by the waist and dipped her low. He did what he wanted to do the second she walked in the door. The scene was enough to get a few cheers and whistles from the busy neighboring restaurant.

When he finally swung Chrissy back up, she was completely red faced. She hit him in the chest and he chuckled. "I opened your fortune cookie. That was cute."

She looked more embarrassed than anything else. "It was stupid. I spent like thirty minutes trying to get the original fortune out and putting the new one back in."

He pulled her in close. "You are in for the night of your life, my queen."

"That's a pet name I don't mind." She murmured.

"My queen," he repeated, "my iron-willed queen."

Tristan dragged Christine back up to his apartment, slamming the door behind them. He wanted her over the closest piece of furniture, right now. He started to the couch but Chrissy had different plans. She got his his belt out of the loops and his pants down in moments. She pushed him onto the cushions and dropped to her knees in front of him.

What he really wanted was to have her ass up on the couch but it wasn't often she offered him oral.

She wrapped her hands around his cock, giving him a little devilish smile. She stroked it a minute, slowly working her mouth around him. He groaned as she pressed her nose up against his lower belly, running his hand through her hair. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, which drove him apeshit. He pulled on the hair at the nape of her neck. He could only take so much, didn't let it continue for long, just long enough to get blood flowing. Tristan picked her up by the arm and unbuttoned her skirt before yanking it down off her hips, little thong included.

He wanted her rough. He wanted her screaming. He wanted her now.

Tristan shoved her forward over on the couch. She grabbed onto the back cushions and found herself kneeling. Tristan kneeled behind her and she shuddered. He pressed the head of his member into her, placed his hands just beside hers, and thrusted into her hard, fast, and deep. She swore in a voice an octave higher than her usual pitch.

Christine liked his hands and arms a lot, found them very attractive. Tristan seemed to know this fact and liked to use it to his advantage, pinning her between his arms, watching them tense and relax, feeling his movements behind. Her breasts and belly abraded the couch's fabric. He groaned, breathed, and hissed near her ear, leaving it to layer kisses on the back of her neck. His lips pressed just below her hairline, behind her ear, the curve of her shoulder and the interior edge of her scapula. She bit into the cushion to keep her voice down, but Tristan didn't like that, wrapping one of his hands around her neck to keep her teeth out of the upholstery.

He grabbed one of her inner thighs, parting her legs further to expose more. He wrapped his hand around the front of her body so he could hold her still the way he wanted and rub her clitoris. The hard thrusts and stimulation had her trembling. She couldn't keep herself independently upright anymore. Her knees sank into the cushions, and her hips buckled back. His angle of penetration somehow became deeper.

Christine really didn't appreciate the lack of her own bodily control and giving it to Tristan. She usually would stop him from making her climax but he wasn't having that today. "N-no," she cried breathlessly, "oh, no, stopstopstop, fuck- Tristan-! Tristan!" She came in a mess, gushing all over him and spitting out several more expletives.

It was very much enough to send him into orgasm as well. He held her to his chest until her body relaxed. Tristan looked down at the mess, grinned and started whispering in her ear. "Is that why you won't let me give you intense orgasms? You cum all over yourself?"