The Walls of Jericho

Dragon

Through the haze of his demanding assault on my mouth, I’m keenly aware of Drake’s breath coming in irregular pants that I hear in between his loud groans, both savage and agonized at the same time.

Unlike Channing, with Drake, there’s no teasing. No toying. Nothing delicate. Nothing sensual. Instead, he reacts with superhuman speed, violently forcing his hands between us. Gripping my hips bruisingly, he flings me down on the bed, then he’s upon me again, pinning my body with his own.

As if he knows the guilt that cripples me, that binds me, he gives me no opportunity for second thoughts. There’s no chance to struggle because the instant I move, he adjusts in a synchronized flow, trapping my hands and legs securely, then crushing my lips beneath his, ravaging my mouth with his own until I’m light-headed. The animal carvings that twine the great bed’s arching posts march in a silent procession, unspeaking witnesses to my epic failure.

Because I’m not having second thoughts. Frankly, I’m not having any thoughts, or if I do, I lose them instantly in the violence of his embrace and in his overpowering attack on my senses.

When he’d pounced on me, instinctively, my hands had flown up defensively between us. And utterly ineffectual. By comparison to me, Channing is large, but Drake is larger still, and in the case of either man, what they want, they can take whether I resist or not.

Only I’m not resisting and the delirium-inducing heat Drake gives off that's making me swoon isn’t the only reason.

With my hands between us, what I can do is touch. My self-guided explorations encourage him, and the barrage of his lips and tongue gentles. His teeth nip at the tender flesh along my jaw, the stinging bites soothed immediately by the caress of his hot breath. It’s sending conflicting signals shooting into my brain. I arch my back, drawing a cold breath and fan my fingers over his chest.

I shudder, feeling the unyielding hardness of his body, and crave it at the same time. He groans, a quivering ripple racing through him, when my hands slip under his shirt and find the unnatural heat of his skin. Caressing over his burly muscles, I toy with the curling hair that covers his chest, rough by comparison to Channing’s smooth muscular body. I itch to have it against me.

My fingers curl, my nails biting into his flesh and I rake them over the hard beads of his raised n*****s. Drake’s breath exhales in a whoosh, singing across my neck and chest, so hot I try to jerk away from the burn and cry out. Arching his back like an angry cat, his large fingers fumble with the buttons on my suit jacket, then struggle with the tiny buttons along the front of my blouse. When he finally succeeds in opening both, he flings the sides apart, exposing my skin to his seeking gaze.

Exposed, the tips of my breasts tighten, even in the warm air trapped between us. Drake growls his appreciation, then his hot mouth closes over one as his fingers pinch and squeeze, rolling the other in a new assault on my already reeling senses. Delirious with it, I wad my fingers in the back of his shirt and yank hard, as demanding as he is. “Take this off,” I pant.

Immediately compliant, he releases the aching crest he’s tenderized with his fingers to pull the shirt up and drag his arms from the sleeves. He waits until the last possible second, sucking hard and raking my other pebbled bud with his teeth. He makes me writhe and moan, then releases it only long enough to throw his shirt aside.

With that flimsy barrier between us gone, I wrap my arms about his neck, arching to him. He yields, shuddering at my breathy moan as the rough wooly hair scratches lightly over my bare breasts. “So warm,” I pant. “So hard.”

So strong.

Inexplicably, Drake’s hold on me begins to soften. “I’m sorry, love.” He kisses me tenderly. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or frighten you.”

Except he’s already released an antagonized beast. 

Just not in him. 

In me. 

“No, I want it. I want it that way.”

His breath hitches and his eyes bore into mine, mesmerizing and as fiery as his superheated body feels against me. In silence, he searches my soul through them, the unnatural glow in his gaze bathing me in the heat of his hypnotic and irresistible stare. His powerful presence engulfs and overwhelms me and my own breathing hitches, terrified he might find me wanting.

Then he seems to find the object of his search and his desire swells, inordinately hard and large between us. Fear surges into my veins, crackling along my nerves and lighting up my brain with an acute awareness of what I’ve just admitted. What I’ve encouraged. What it’s aroused in him.

Drake’s breathing steadies. The regular warm exhalations and the cool rush of air into the warmed space with his inhalations feels as conflicted across my senses as the thoughts tumbling like a landslide in my head. I shiver, despite the heat rolling off him in waves.

“Are you sure?” he asks at long last, the unusual lilt of his voice loud and gruff in the room filled only with the quiet hissing of our breath.

I close my eyes and swallow hard, winging an unspoken apology to my mate. “Yes. I want it all,” I whisper.

A whimpering moan escapes him and he brushes his lips lightly over mine, then freezes again. “Jericho,” my name sounds like a plea, “you have to be sure. Are you?” His golden-orange eyes dance with flames.

Inhaling his breath stings my nostrils with sweet-scented, woodsy smoke and I can’t tear my eyes from his. “Yes! Give it to—.”

My words are cut off as his lips crash into mine. The air between our bodies cools as he lifts above me, shoving a hand into the small of my back to fumble with the fastenings on my skirt. As the zip descends, he busies his lips taunting the pebbled tips of my breasts with flicks of his hot tongue, then forces his other hand beneath me to scrabble with the button. In frustration, he gives a strained growl.

“Remove this now, or I’ll destroy it,” he says unemotionally, yet the trembling of his hands betrays his struggle to maintain control.

Abandoning my sensual explorations of the hard lines of his arms, I ease my slender hands beneath me before my resolution vanishes. Bracing himself with both arms on either side of me, he watches my body arch and twist as I work at the stubborn button, ready to pounce the instant I attempt to escape him.

Belying my thoughts, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jericho.”

I realize then, vaguely, that should I refuse him, not oblige. It’s a heady thought that he would attempt to submit himself to my will.

“Our fates lie in your delicate hands.” The room rings with the sound of his words.

Tamed.

Unbidden, the thought enters my consciousness and, on my finger, SOFie twinkles brightly. Tamed the dragon.

But there’s no chance to process it. His eyes follow as my hands work the skirt over my hips and thighs, his presence re-exerting its overwhelming and dangerous power, surrounding and trapping me like a separate, living entity. He catches one ankle as the skirt slithers over my feet to the floor and his hand sears a burning sensual path up my leg as he presses it to his side.

Had he said that I control our destinies? Had I revealed who I am? I should stop this! The panicked thought routes adrenaline into my veins.

But could I stop it? Under his burning gaze, it seems impossible to move. My agitation grows as he stares at me in interminable silence, my heart pounding so loud the blood thundering past my ears is all I can hear.

He ducks his head, his mouth tasting the berried tips of my breasts as his breath sears over them. Immediately, they harden at his touch and a moan escapes him as his mouth closes over first one, then the other, sucking hard. His hands close on my hips, brutally strong, his grip unbreakable and I writhe, wrapping my smaller weaker hands over his as my flesh burns and tingles.

I feel the powerful surge of his muscles before his hands forcefully slide me further onto the bed. His mouth moves over my belly as his thumbs hook into the elasticized lace of my panties. Tossing them aside, he spreads my legs wide enough I feel the strain in my inner thighs, then there's nothing but hot pleasure as he buries his tongue deep inside me.

My body reaches flashpoint and I cry out as he takes possession, his lips kissing, his mouth sucking, his tongue licking and tasting every hidden niche and crevice between my spread legs. I burn under his ministrations, wriggling uselessly as he holds me firmly, making my resistance futile and my surrender inevitable.

Lifting the burden of my guilt away from me and shouldering it himself, he erases the last of my inhibitions as his lips close over my swollen aching hooded bud, sucking as his tongue flicks over it. I tremble and shake as he drives the tension into the stratosphere and cry out in anguish as he slips a thick finger into me and massages the sensitive bundle of sister nerves to the hooded bud outside of me. We both shudder as his finger glides into and out of my soft, silky wetness, his reward for his masterly efforts.

A frustrated groan escapes me as he withdraws even the touch of his breath and stands over me. His fiery eyes fix on the exposed petals between my thighs and as one hand unfastens the button and zip on his jeans, he uses the other to tease through my tender folds, deliberately spreading the plentitude of slick evidence of my desire from the top of my opening all the way down to the puckered hole beyond it. I shiver at the wicked pleasure as his finger teases over it, then squirm away with a panicked hum as he applies pressure.

Drake smacks my backside, but not very hard, then soothes the slight sting with a warm caress over the same curve and drags me back to him. His finger draws through my slick folds, then returns to the tight pucker, slickly coated with my own wetness. At a glacial crawl, he works his thick fingertip into me, his teeth clenched to bite back his aroused curses. I can see the outline of his swollen member straining against the thin cotton of his underpants.

I gasp and whimper at his stretching invasion of the snug hole, tensing as my resistance has aches and cramps forming along my spine.

“Breathe, love,” he whispers. The sound of his voice swirls inside my head, dark and nebulous. Onward, deeper, he presses.

“Oh God!” I gasp in mixed pleasure and pain as his finger finally slides all the way in, the tight little hole contracting snugly around its base. The entirety of my nervous system lights up, then explodes with taboo pleasure and my hips arch, the virgin hole trying to swallow him deeper.

“That’s it.” With his other hand resting in the crook of my thigh, he glazes his thumb over my throbbing bud and electricity spikes into my head, short-circuiting my brain.

My need to orgasm overrides all conscious thought and every part of me seems to center and concentrate at the point where Drake’s hot finger burns inside.

I hear his pleased exhale. “You know where I am?” He growls the question, his voice husky and dripping with lust. “Jericho, answer me.”

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Breathe out,” he commands.

When I do, he backs his finger out until only the tip remains inside me. I whimper at the emptiness that fills that tunnel.

“Good. Now tell me where I am.”

“You’re—.” The words catch in my throat, replaced by an incoherent moan as he presses again, sliding in deeply as the stretched nerves spark and flare all the way into my head again.

“Say it.” His finger slides all the way out, the tip caressing tiny circles over my pucker. I arch again as he pushes in. “Tell me where I am.”

“You’re—ah!” All thoughts flee my head as he crooks the finger, stroking the sensitive tissue inside.

“Tell me.”

I pant hard, trembling at the brink of a massive climax I’m desperate for, unable to think about anything but the penetrating heat of him buried inside me and the agonizing tease of his thumb against my aroused nub.

“Tell me,” he reiterates.

“I—ah!—you’re—you’re in my—in my ass.” I force the words out, arching and moaning as he begins to pump his finger gently in and out of me.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I’m in your ass.” He exhales with each thrust of his finger into me and my body tingles with each slow leisurely caress. “Eventually, I’m going to own every part of you like this, just like you own every part of me.”

The electric short-circuiting becomes a burn and my body aches, so close to loosing control. So close to tipping over the edge, yet he holds me there, denying my release.

At last he bends, hot tongue circling the point where his finger holds me, licking up through my dripping petals. Here, his tongue lingers, plundering the sweet hole and tasting my desire. His moans of pleasure vibrate through me and a delicate shiver washes across my fevered skin. Then his thumb stops its tender caresses. As his finger in my back door withdraws, he inserts one into the aching folds above it, gliding in as the other glides out and continuing the alternating pumping with my climax circling in a holding pattern.

“Drake, please!” Frustrated, I cry out, my hands clutching at the top of his head.

Another of his delighted moans vibrates through me. His hot lips close over my tortured bud as his fingers pump. His tongue flutters. Circles. Teases. My mind screams—suck harder! Bite me! Plunge deeper! Take! Use! Give me more! Give me everything! Release me! – but only jumbled slurred cries and moans leave me, ringing loud in the room.

Immediately, he switches the pattern, thrusting deep into both holes at the same time and sucking harder. I scream as torrents of pleasure like a red-hot fire tear through me, rending the world apart as I convulse beneath him, bending as the undeniable climax shudders through me, crashing and igniting and scorching from the inside out.

Limp and boneless, I collapse beneath him, aching as the last shuddering waves wash over me then settle into a warm afterglow. I can barely open my eyes, but I recognize the sounds of Drake’s clothes sliding off of him. Then his hands caress my legs.

“No more,” I plead. “I can’t take it.”

He chuckles, hooking my heels over his shoulders. His arms wrap tightly around my thighs to secure me and he drags me to the edge of the bed. “Oh, I have every confidence you can.”

My eyes fly open wide feeling the enormous blunt head of him pressing into me. I cry out, arching against the pain of his invasion, my fingers knotting in the bedcovers. Above me, his whole body shakes as he holds me in place, one hand leaving my thighs to press on my middle to hold me down.

“Breathe. You’ll get used to me. Just give it a minute,” he says in a strangled whisper. He sinks deeper still, agonizingly thick and hot, then a rough groan escapes him and his lids flutter shut as I take him entirely.

I pant in shallow breaths, barely able to breathe when he fills me completely, impaling me on his rigid member. Desire flares up my spine, bursting in my head like fireworks, and I’m conscious only of the point where we’re fused. It’s unbearable. And I want more. I want everything that he’ll give me. My control drains away, surrendering my body to him.

“Too deep,” I pant.

Mercifully and agonizingly, he withdraws. My body sucks and spasms as he leaves me, the rounded tip of him pressed against my tender folds as if offering a sweet kiss.

“Oh yeah,” he groans, his voice saturated with his pleasure. “You’re getting it all though. And you’re going to take it.” He shifts his weight, bracing both hands against my hips, then his eyes open, locking me in his gaze.

I scream both in terror and agonized pleasure as he sinks into me in one smooth drive, forcing the last inch against my resistance with a desirous grunt. Beneath the sparse thatch of hair across his chest, his flesh begins to glow, as if lit from within by a tremendous fire around his heart. It flares, red-hot and plainly visible against his dark skin, lighting up the veins beneath the surface and illuminating the muscular lines of his body. It flashes across his chest and abdomen, down his arms and legs and up into his eyes that ignite and glow, a deep orange with vertical pupils I’ve seen only once before but a thousand times in my nightmares.

I’m going to die, a still quiet corner of my brain says.

Then he moves with superhuman speed. His weight bears down on my trapped body as he pulls away, then rams inside me so hard it drives the breath out of me and ignites ruptured stars across my vision. His wooly hair brushes against my tender nether flesh, sending a hot new excitement through me, just as arousing as everything that’s come before it, but not enough to tip me over the edge.

I cry out again, as he drives into me, then again, and again. And as my excitement grows, Drake increases his speed, pounding into me with relentless joyful abandon.

“Harder,” I hear myself moan. “Give it to me harder!”

I’m over the edge before I quite know what’s happening, hot, brilliant, burning bliss like I’ve never imagined bursting through my broken body. I squeeze my eyes shut as the waves crest and crash over me, then scream again as Drake convulses, flooding my insides with a lava-hot torrent, groaning and shuddering in unspeakable pleasure.

Barely conscious, I feel my legs release, opened around him as he lays overtop of me, taking me in his arms.

“God, you’re trembling like a leaf,” he whispers, feathering tender kisses across my shoulders, over my neck and along my jaw. “Jericho? God, forgive me. I didn’t mean to be so rough. Please, Jericho, forgive me.”

“Am I dead?” I whisper.

Drake chuckles. “No. God, no. You’re perfect.”

I feel his weight lifting to arm’s length above me. Balancing on one arm, he raises one of my jelly arms and presses my palm flat against his chest.

“Open your eyes, Jericho. Look at me,” he orders. “Look.”

My eyes flutter open, then go wide. I flinch, seeing the hot flare beneath his skin and his eyes begin to burn. I tug at my palm as the unbearable heat sears into my flesh, but he holds me. Then something I’m not expecting happens.

The fiery flash zips along the veins in my arms. I feel the scorching flush pool around my heart, then flare along my veins as it did with him.

“You’re not dead, Jericho,” he tells me. “You’re dragon.”