Chương 45: 1.44. My Best Shot

Seth sat next to Lisa on the bed.

"So," he said.

"Should I still be wearing this wet towel, or…" She opened it like a gift and dropped it on the floor. He was naked before her.

"No towel, young man. That'll get in the way of the cock-sucking." She hovered above him and caged him between her knees.

"I'm going to suck your cock now," she added.

"If the implication was unclear."

"I know I got a little rattled in that rat-hole you sent me down," he said.

"but if you'll recall correctly, you're the one in possession of a rotten brain."

"You are a quick-tongued young man, aren't you," she said.

"That's all right. My tongue's quick, too."

"I'm not so young."

"That's such a young thing to say. I'm old enough to be your mother, you know."

"Yeah," he said, and bent his knees to shift her further onto him.

"But you're not."

"You're incorrigible, aren't you?" She let herself be moved, though he knew it was only by her volition, until she was lightly straddling him.

"What's a woman to do with a lustful little thing like you?"

"I dunno. Any ideas?"

"I made you a deal. And you held up your end. But Seth." The lines of muscle in her thighs deepened. The bed creaked. She was letting more of her weight onto him.

"My wonderful thief. You went so far beyond what I thought you'd do." The fabric on one side of her dress grew taut. On the other it folded and creased. She was moving her hips in a slow side-to-side, like the liquid motion of a stalking panther.

"What if," she whispered, "I did, too?" His hands slid along the silk atop her belly.

"What do you mean?"

"That's my sword, right over there." She pointed to its long shadow in the corner.

"Its animaxis is empty. Waiting for a soul to fill it up." His palms left a smudge of sweat on the dress's material.

"Would you like that, Seth? Would you like to know what you'd look like with eyes of black? What your Darkness would be?" More weight again. Something slick and hot and pliant pressing against him.

"Or maybe you're just curious how a woman with thick Orwinese thighs and a few good miles on her can make a man feel." The slit on her dress rode up as she rocked forward and back across him. The lacy black line of her thong appeared, digging a groove into the plush luxury of her hip. She rested a hand on her stomach, right below the divot her bellybutton made in the scarlet fabric.

"This womb brought two babies into the world, Seth," she whispered. She framed it with her fingers. A little heart.

"And it's been waiting and waiting for someone new. It's been waiting decades. You could hold on. Just like this." She took his hands and carefully placed them on the violin curves her obliques formed where they flowed into her wide, fruitful hips.

"And I could fuck the soul out of you," she whispered. His exhale rattled as the last of his cockiness abandoned him. Between her wide, smooth thighs, he twitched. She let out a pleased little sigh and sank further into her gyration.

"Well," she murmured.

"I know part of you wants it." He tried to keep his mind above the molten ocean of need that her slow, deep circling was flooding him with.

"You're not playing fair."

"Fair?" She smacked her painted lips.

"Suddenly you want it fair. How much have you stolen from the world, little thief? From me. Someone should show you how it feels. Someone should show you what happens to cocky little boys like you, when they take from the wrong woman." His hands snaked around behind her, and filled themselves with as much of her big beautiful ass as they could hold. She flexed for him, turned the cushion to steel and back again, and something squeezed in his lap and he saw stars.

"Someone should steal you." Her broad fingertip booped his nose.

"Steal you away and take you somewhere soft and dark. And hold you down, and snuff you out, and keep you." He breathed a mesmerized echo.

"Keep me."

"People keep dogs and cats. Why not a fox?" Her hands came down on either side of his head. Her thumb caressed his hair, tucked a strand behind his ear.

"Why not be mine, Seth? You want someone to take care of you. That's why you came running to me that first day. You wanted me to kill the bad men and save you, and I did." The exquisitely carved pillars of her arms bunched the soft flesh of her chest together. She was divine. Her body was a love letter from creation in the perfect shape of a woman. Every piece of her extraordinary, either in its coiled, predatory strength or its voluptuous, nurturing softness, or both impossibly at once.

"And I could keep doing that, Seth," she crooned.

"I could do that for the rest of your life. Just let yourself be owned. A lifetime of hard choices. This could be the last one. No more thinking. No more fending. I'd take care of you. My little fox. My black-eyed treasure. And anyone who wanted to hurt you, or take you away from me, I'd make them disappear." He clung to the last scrap of flotsam he could find.

"We—we had a deal." Her weight shifted. She giggled.

"Sorry. I know. Sorry, Seth. I got carried away. I just love teasing you so much. I love this face."

"You are such a—" He cast about for an Annalise word while Lisa's hips slowly, firmly ground him further into the bed.

"Such a pest."

"I am such a pest. Forgive me." She slid off him.

"It's not quite the same, and it can't be tonight on such short notice, but we could bring the backdoor into it, if you'd like." He propped himself up on his elbows and watched her lower her legs to the floor.

"I can never tell when you're serious."

"Of course I'm serious. You're so good to me, Seth. Such a good boy." Her breath thickened as her fingers closed around the hard, hot ache.

"Oh Saints. You're perfect." Her pearly-white teeth bit her lower lip.

"My little fox isn't so little after all, is he?" This was happening. Nobody was about to stumble through the door. No crisis, no interruption. If Lisa was pranking him or testing him, she'd probably have stopped before she had his dick in her hand. Stolen novel; please report.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, Seth. Okay?"

"Okay."

"And you just do whatever feels right. This is your reward." A ribbon slipped from her wrist into her hair. She bound it back, into a long dark ponytail with a fetching streak of silver at its base.

"Any time you want to take over, just hold me still and use me however you like." She took his legs and pulled him, gentle but firm, to the edge of the bed. She knelt before him, and grasped his knees, and coaxed them apart.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he said. She beamed. Her kiss left a plum-colored ghost of itself on his belly. Then another on his hip. Then— --click the spoiler box for explicit content-- Then she kissed the head of his cock, and kissed it again, deeper, and then her plum lips parted and he was engulfed. He exhaled sharply. She winked, and hummed, and he nearly went cross-eyed. He'd gotten his dick sucked before. He was no lothario, really, but he'd had a few partners, enough to think he knew what a mouth and a hand could do.

On the whole he'd had the lurking suspicion that fellatio was, in fact, overrated. He'd known nothing. Everyone else had been painting fences. The woman whose mouth and tongue now worked him was illuminating a mural worthy of the Basilica Necropolita. Sensations danced across him. The nimble tightening of her fingers, her smearing, softened lips, her acrobatic tongue. She was a virtuoso. She was God. He clung to her sculpted shoulders as her head bobbed and twisted.

She held herself at bay, mouth hovering close, breathing heavy against him as her tongue marked trails of tingling heat in the chill of the room. Then she took him whole, and the lascivious gagging sound she made as his head punched past her soft palate into her throat nearly ended him. His underarms were slick with perspiration.

"Oh fuck, Annalise—" A pause. Seth broke it with a laugh, full of nerves, and the corners of her mouth turned up, and she kept going, and the final strands were pulling taut.

"Wait," he stuttered.

"Waitwait. Stuh. Uh. Slow down." Her lipstick streaked across the length of him, her dark mascara beading and running at the edges.

"Hmm?"

"I just… I'm backed up, I guess. I want to last." She reclaimed the use of her mouth and tongue.

"No gallant restraint now, Seth. We're going for speed here. The quicker you cum, the less light I siphon. You already dazzled me with your endurance in the sewers." A bravo's boldness came over him, at this warrior woman kneeling before him, nuzzling his cock.

"All right, then," he said.

"Hit me with your best shot."

"My best shot." She gave him a tap on the thigh.

"All right, rascal. You asked for it." She stood, and with an exaggerated sway and a dip at the waist she picked through the steamer trunk in the room's corner.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"Shhh. Catch your breath, little fox. You'll need it." She turned around with a little jewel-tone red bottle, and popped its stopper. She folded back down to her knees, arched her back, and upturned its contents across her chest. Seth watched in horny disbelief as glistening, rose-fragrant oil ran down her collarbone into the canyon of her breasts.

"Your dress," he mumbled.

"What about it?" she asked, evenly. She cinched something, and the crimson tightened, sending a jiggle through the mounds of shining plumpness it caged. She rose further up and Seth saw the pressed-together flesh of her cleavage's underside.

"Now, I've never actually done this, but this skull of mine is full of lovely experiences. So…" She took his cock in her oiled hands, lined it up, and sank her chest down. Seth let out a strangled groan as the hearthstone-warm pillows of flesh parted with a slippery smooching sound to give him passage. The head of his cock poked up between them, blushing so red against her milky skin.

Then with torturous slowness, she lifted herself, and it disappeared back into its lush, smushed confinement, and he groaned as it started again.

"Here, now," Lisa whispered.

"Has anyone done this for you before, Seth?" His voice was too trembly and insubstantial for his "no" to be more than a rapturous whisper. He shook his head. She tutted.

"I was afraid of that. Such a healthy, handsome young man, and nobody has dealt with you properly. These flouncy, fumbling girls your age. They don't know how to give a boy like you what you need." She was gradually picking up the pace. Her heart beat against the underside of his cock. Her pectorals bumped her breasts, a muscular twitch into a playful jiggle, and he moaned, and she laughed and did it again.

"You don't need some blushing maid. Or some skinny Tuthimi twig who'll expect a thank you for lying there like a fuckable pillow." A shadow-gray nipple rose from the dress and poked its firm arousal against his pelvis as she pumped and squeezed.

"You deserve a woman. You deserve someone who knows how to treat you. Something to grab onto." She arched her back to show him the full curves of her breasts, and laughed breathlessly as his hands smushed into their ripe softness.

"You know what you deserve?" Her breasts had bounced all the way out of their silken cage now; her nipples were tight and thunder gray at their peaks. Pressed and pumped in their voluptuous cleavage, his cock twitched. A pale bead crowned it now. Her hungry grin broadened.

"You," she said.

"Deserve." And she leaned further forward.

"To coat me, Seth. All over me." Gravity was pressing her snow-white breasts fully against him now, so fat and full that they spilled out around his hips.

"On my face. Or on my chest. Or down my throat. Wherever you want. You've earned it. Beautiful boy. Let me feel it."

"Your dress—""I don't give a fuck about this dress. This is the second time I've ever fucking worn this dress. This is your dress. Ruin it." The tension sharpened to a narrow point. Like a diver's leaping flight, arching down toward the waiting water.

"Use me, little fox," she whispered.

"Use your Auntie Lisa." His fist clamped down on her ponytail." Seth —" she gasped, shocked and delighted, and that's all she got out before he plunged her face-first back down onto his cock. Her dainty upturned nose bumped into his lower stomach and inhaled sharply. A greedy, unspeakably explicit groan rose from her plugged-up throat, and a mascara'd tear dripped from the edge of her black eye, and Seth stopped thinking.

He fucked Lisa's face like it was the final act before the third Emergence, or the legion of the hundred saints returned. Her sodden voice rose in pitch as he pumped into her, from a basal hum to a high, whining, rhythmic moan, her hair pulled back, her expression wide and blinking and eager. Her throat tightened. Her tongue coiled around him. He lost his grip and his rhythm but she didn't care, she kept going, and going, and Seth came with the kind of cry he'd always thought was faked. It wasn't.

The first jolt went down her throat; she pulled back, and stared with hypnotized infatuation, open-mouthed, strands of drool trailing from her agape lips to his spasming cock. The second pulse splattered across Lisa's face, then fell thickly back to glaze her shining breasts. Some animal frenzy seized him and he grabbed the back of her head and it was like a spell had snapped, the way her eyes filled with horny joy and she moved with his hand as he plunged her face back between his legs.

She let out a guttural hkk and Seth yelped, he cried aloud, Saints help him, as her throat sealed back around him and he spent the rest of himself down her esophagus, pulse after mind-emptying pulse, his skin on fire, his hips beyond his control as he ground them into her face. She shoved herself forward, and her huge gorgeous shoulders caught his legs and flipped his knees up onto them. Her vast hands encompassed his chest and pinned him down.

Her tongue swirled at the root of his cock, neck flexing, and the fluttery, almost femme sound of his moan shot embarrassment through him, but only spurred her on. She swallowed, and the soft palate rippling against the head of his cock drew a last back-arching gush down her greedy esophagus. He drooped like a dying flower. She settled with him, cozying closer, with his cock still in her mouth, cheeks hollow, lips vacuum-sealing him. Her tongue slowed from its sloppy frenzy to a silky, feline lapping.

Her coarse fingers gently cupped his balls. A mumbling little aftershock tremored through him, and another, as she coaxed the last few drops from him, like they were liquid gold. Finally the pressure lessened, and she released him with a pop so wet that it turned his gasping breath halfway into a delirious laugh. She laughed, too. A light, silvery laugh, like a woman half her age.

"Perfect," she whispered, and kissed his shaft as it softened.

"My perfect thief." His wrecked brain managed to attach a Lee to a suh and shoved it out the door.

"Seth," she breathed back, and lowered his legs, and crawled all the way onto the bed with him. Her heavy, tattooed thigh broadened out as it folded against him. Her arm draped over his shoulder and bent round again to lay its hand in his hair. That feeling. That over-the-shoulder feeling, the murky threat whose breath always tingled his neck. It was gone. Not just recontextualized or fed, like it was when he stole. Gone. He was safe.

He was entirely safe, for the first time he could remember, and it was in the sorcerously inked arms of a Legion murderer whose skin was slowly sucking out his soul. But it didn't matter. He was safe. He wanted to cry, it felt so perfect. So right.

"I'll get up in a second," she whispered.

"I have to."

"Nn." His arms wrapped around her with sudden urgent imperative.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm ready," he said.

"I want it. Unlight me."