Evil Cupid, Part Three
Content Advisory: Includes m/f sex, graphic language.
Continued from October 15, 2011.
Pixie is fighting her Cupid for control… little does she know how much is at stake. Read on for the conclusion.
He begged me to surrender, to admit defeat. I refused and his fingers found the answer instead. I cried out as they plunged within me, and then buried my head into my bicep, biting myself to keep from giving in as his fingers danced within me. I teetered on the edge of another orgasm as my hips joined in the battle, grinding against his hand.
Suddenly his hand withdrew and he pulled away. I looked down my body to find him kneeling back on his ankles, watching me. I cursed and bucked against my restraints, my legs flailed but missed. His erection bobbed telling me how hard he fought his desire. The vision of it painfully amped up my own need.
A cry burst past my lips and he looked relieved. His body covered mine again, delicious against my skin. My tongue raced along a collarbone, inhaling and tasting that wonderful cinnamon aroma that was all Adam. I battled for control of my own body, murmurs escaping between tastes.
“What was that?” he asked, tugging on my nipples.
“Go to hell,” I spat out, arching into him again. My body now burned with need, the flames racing along my bloodstream.
“Now, now… you have to ask, nicely.”
Mr. Sweet and Loveable Cupid disappeared, replaced by something mortals would find foreign. He attracted me like a lightening rod in a storm. He became the conqueror, the alpha, the warrior. Everything a pixie finds irresistibly hot and I couldn’t hold out any longer. The flames racing through my body had converged at my center, taking away all hope of holding out.
“Pleease,” I whimpered and cried out, bucking against him. “I need you, now. Please, Adam. God please!”
Those words unlocked a floodgate of emotion. The flames pooled in my center raced outward, lighting my soul on fire. A pixie only gave in once in a hundred years or so, depending on how long the conqueror survived. My cry made an oath in a way, but it held such sweet rewards.
My nerves sparked to life with passion and everything around me became clearer, crisper, and more vibrant. I felt every taste bud of Adam’s tongue rasp over the skin at my neck. The frantic rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in my own chest. And, very soon, I’d experience the best orgasm since the year 1523 AD. I rarely gave in, but a Cupid made an interesting choice. At least I’d only need to deal with him on Valentine’s Day and Sweetest Day.
Adam’s mouth closed over my nipple and pulled with a long, wet suck. Effectively shutting off all my thoughts and lighting my passion further. I heard another slide of metal and realized the handcuffs were gone. It didn’t matter - I fought no more. Instead my hands ran over his body in excited strokes, pulling him closer and urging him on without words.
My need rose to a fever pitch and my core throbbed from wanting to be filled. I parted my legs farther and arched my hips. His erection slid across the wet core of me and I moaned low in my throat. I’m robbed of speech so I used my body to demand what I want. My hands glided over his hips and between us to his erection.
I used my own moisture on the soft, hardened skin to ease my trail up and down his cock. I only managed three strokes before his groan stopped me. Adam’s hand moved mine away as his hips pressed against me. My eyes closed, anticipating the moment he slammed home.
They opened in wonder to the slow glide of his cock into my core. My wetness created an easy entry, but he still moved slowly. I felt every tiny adjustment of my body to him. As if the submission of my soul wasn’t enough- he needed my body to surrender too.
I wrapped my legs around his hips trying to force him deeper but his hands pinned my hips to the floor. The squeeze of his fingers into my sensitive flesh increased the feeling of capture and I loved it. I moaned to protest the slow slide of him, wanting it hard and fast, needing that elusive release.
Finally his slide completed, my every crevice filled to capacity and I whimpered with joy. That is, until he began to withdraw. My body rose against his, trying to draw out the delicious contact, and then he slammed home. His head rammed my sensitive spot and I cried out in pleasure, my nails scoring trails onto his back. Again and again he repeated the maneuver until I writhed on the carpet, dying a slow death as my fever grew within.
He pulled me up into the safety of his arms. I allowed the manhandling, part of the agreement of my earlier submission. I was completely in his power and thankful for a second I was treated with care. Gratitude flew out the window as the change in position forced him deeper within me. I leaned forward and bit his shoulder, suckling at the red welts.
Adam climbed onto the bed with me, oddly fixing me in a position of power. I stared down at him in confusion from my perch on his hips. A lift of his hips wrenched another groan of ecstasy from my lips. I ran my hands down his chiseled chest, digging in around his pecs.
“Dance, Anna... take control,” he moaned, gripping my hips and directing me.
Never in this ritual have I been in control and it excited me. My body took over, riding him in a rhythm set by instinct, feeling, and need. A shot of electricity sizzled up my core as his thumb rubbed over my sensitive clit, rocketing my bliss into overdrive.
Tendrils of the coming orgasm whispered through my muscles as the room faded to black in my vision. Still my hips pumped and ground against him, his hips rose to match me, and his thumb continued its persistent slide.
The room disappeared into stars and darkness as the orgasm ripped through my body. I sensed every muscle fiber contract and release in a spasm of pure heaven. My own loud screams barely registered in my mind as my body was thrown taut over Adam’s. His hips continued to grind into me, lengthening my own pleasure.
His roar joined my own as his hot seed spilled deep within me. My body lapped it up eagerly and greedily before falling limp against him. My heart rate erratic against his chest, I gulped for breath. His muscled arms encircled me protectively and I fell into a peaceful, satisfied slumber.
Sunshine leaked across my face, sending rays of light shooting behind my eyelids. My body was completely sated and, for once, all my hungers were satisfied. My arm lifted weakly to counter the sunlight as I thought about my situation. And I was in one hell of a bind.
On one hand, the night was full of glorious sex and I climaxed multiple times, leading to my current weak state. On the other hand, my submission was given as a free pixie. I hadn’t minded my last bonding. It’d been a pleasant but short experience, since I’d been released upon my captor’s death. Of course, nothing in our mating rules said anything against killing the man when you grew tired of him.
I felt no guilt about that deed, he died a pleasant and fast death… rare for a pixie to deliver, even to someone she cared for. Although, I reminded myself, Adam proved a very exciting surprise. Even though he had won the right to do whatever he wanted to me or with me, his every action had spoken of care and respect. Besides, I reminded myself, Cupids only ran amuck on Valentine’s and Sweetest Day. A twice a year commitment was easily handled.
Curiously, my eyes peeked open to study my bedroom. It lay in a serious state of disarray, especially after Adam found my treasure chest of goodies last night. My mouth froze in a smirk at the plethora of items strewn about my once tidy retreat. When I get the energy to rise, I’ll clean it all up.
My eyes detected no trace of my Mr. Cupid and there was no sound of running water from the connecting bathroom. My body lacked the strength to stand and do a thorough sweep of my apartment, but I thought I was right about the twice a year commitment. Not a bad gig for a pixie like me since we were only exclusive when forced to be.
I closed my eyes to slide back into sleep and regain my strength, smiling at the rumble of hunger in my belly. When all other needs are met, we pixies can enjoy the foods of the mortal world and I really did. The different tastes, aromas, and combinations... It’d been too long since I’d enjoyed them. I could almost smell a delicious hot coffee and bacon I was so starved.
The door to my room slammed open, startling me, and I stared. Adam stood clad in only his pants. I hated how my mouth instantly watered, not at the sight of the food on the tray but at the sight of his muscled chest. He sat carefully on the bed, arranging the tray over his legs.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“So you plan on feeding me?” I dryly quipped. “The food is in your lap.”
“As if you could lift the fork,” he chuckled.
“How are you even still here? Sweetest Day is over…”
The evil smirk on his face caught my attention before my words were cut off by food in front of my mouth. I devoured everything he fed me, powerless to stop. His actions demanded, my body submitted – the oath called for this trade.
I no longer minded when he held the cup of coffee to my lips. I sipped eagerly, having missed the wonderful taste of the brew for many years. I brewed pots in the past just for the smell and now it flowed over my taste buds. I sighed in delight.
Adam carefully moved the tray to my night stand and stood again. I watched spellbound as he cleaned up bits of things around my room. That’s right, I told myself- MY room.
“What are you doing? And again, how are you here?”
He turned and again the evil smile flashed over his features. “Oh, I’m not your average Cupid…”
Knowledge dawned dark and deadly and my eyes widened then narrowed. I should have known with his knowledge of pixies. Hell, I should have known when he’d paid me any attention at the bar. No Cupid in his right mind would get mixed up with a damn pixie like me, unless…
“A Fallen Cupid… son of a bitch,” I muttered.
Adam continued to clean. “Get cozy and I’ll take good care of you.”
He hummed a tune and stopped every few moments to feed me more sips of coffee. But the taste went bitter on my tongue. My mind raced at how to save myself.
His humming stopped and his eyes pinned me. “Just so you know it’s impossible to kill a Cupid.”
I didn’t doubt him, but I prayed he was wrong. It certainly explained the Mr. Perfect routine. The problem was, especially for a pixie, it was possible to be loved to death. Sure, the sex would be great but it became a question of who would free who first by their death…
“Fucking evil cupids,” I groaned under my breath as his humming vibrated along my nerves.
Jennifer writes fiction for Digital Digest and Red Hot Publishing. Look for her other series: Finders Keepers with Danielle Gavan and Story of Sebastian. Each posted monthly on Digital Digest. Here’s hoping your Sweetest Day weekend ended well!
If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase the Digital Digest Volume I anthology as an ebook for only $.99.
Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Feuerstein
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.