Exton

The Manse is quiet. The children are sleeping, as are their parents and guardians. For once mi amor is not taping his show, nor does he need to review any movies. I wait in the shadows as he hangs up his cape. He knows I am there even before I slide my hands along his chest.

His hands cover mine, stilling their movement. He watches my tongue as it slides along my bottom lip. I burn for him, and it isn't the Succubi in my bloodline. My nails lengthen as I slip my hands from under his. I pluck at the buttons of his silk shirt, slipping them open one at a time. The sight of his bared flesh pulls me forward until I lick a slow line along the tantalizing strip.

He says nothing, but the rippling sensation in his muscles tells me he is not unaffected. I nip lightly, tugging at the wealth of chest hairs until a low growl rumbles and his hands sink into my hair. He grips tight, twisting the unruly curls into a hard knot. I moan softly and scrape my nails along his waist. He pulls my head back by the handful of hair and tugs me upwards. His mouth finds mine and there is no gentleness in the kiss.

We feed at each others mouths, bodies pressed close together. I can feel his mounting excitement as he nudges a leg between my thighs. It isn't until the wall presses into my back that I realize we have moved. I slide a leg up his, wrapping it over his hip. The position presses his bulge against my own heat. I smile as his breath hitches. Thin silk disguises nothing. I am as wet as he is hard.

His hands slide under my thighs, lifting me. My lips curl, eyes slitting as he rubs against me. His words are low, intense. "You are a dangerous woman."

"Then ve are a mated pair, mi amor. For you arre just as dangerous, if not more."

There is more purr than syllables, but he understands and heat fills his eyes.

He thrusts, making us both moan as the fabric between us rubs. My hands grip back of his shirt and there is a ripping sound as my nails shred it. He laughs, not the laugh that makes people shiver in fright, but the low husky chuckle of a man who has what he wants, just the way he wants it. The kind of laugh that sends a shiver along my spine and heat rushing to my core. I arch, writhing against him.

He steps back, letting my feet hit the floor. I look up at him, my breathes shallow and panting. He stares at me a moment, then down at himself. The sign of my excitement is as obvious as the wetness staining his trousers. The touch of his hands at my waist has me closing my eyes, only to open them with a start as I find myself flung over his shoulder as he strides down the hall.

The grip on my thighs is bruising. I moan as Magnus shifts a hand.  He slides it up over the curve of my ass as he takes the stairs. I gently rake sharp nails through the rents in the back of his shirt. He growls something and slaps. The sting makes me writhe and he kicks a door shut behind us. It isn't until he drops me on the bed, that I recognize our room. I push my hair out of my face and push myself up to watch him rip off the last of his shirt. His muscles ripple and I lick my lips.

He is on me seconds later, shoving me down on the bed and I fight him for dominance. Well, I don't fight hard. Just enough to stir his hunger. My skirts are forced up my thighs and I feel him grip the fabric of my panties. One hard tug and they are nothing but silken scraps that he holds high. I twist and he is pressed between my thighs, rubbing against me. I moan, arching into the roughness of the fabric. My hands slide down and he pauses as I undo his zipper, I reach inside and grip his hard cock in my hand, pulling him from the tight confines of his pants. I stroke, sliding from base to tip. He jerks in my hand, body stiffening. He wraps his hands around my legs and pulls hard. My skirts bunch up at my waist, baring me to his eyes.

He thrusts his hips, forcing his solid length through my tight grip. I can see the control it takes to let me hold him like this. I know it won't last long. Magnus forces my legs wide, pressing forward. His hand covers mine, guiding his cock until the tip brushes against the wet folds of my slit. He flexes his hips, rubbing his head along my wetness. I shudder, arching my hips. It is all the invitation he needs. Pulling my hand away, he shoves forward, thrusting into me as hard as he can. I moan and buck up, taking every inch. I arch, shuddering and cumming as his pelvis slams into my clit.

He leans over me, hands holding my shoulders down as he pounds into me. I writhe, rolling my hips under the welcome assault. He shifts, forcing my legs upwards until he can shift them over his shoulders. The change in position has him gliding over different nerves. It isn't long until I am panting his name, begging for him to bring me again.

He slides down my body. I whimper at the loss of his hardness, only to moan as his mouth covers my clit in gentle kisses. Teeth scraping over sensitized flesh soon has me moaning again. I rock my hips, wanting more, needing more. His tongue begins to lap, delving deep into my wet slit. One finger, then two press into me. I moan as he begins to slide them in and out in time to his licks and nips. It isn't long before I am shoving my hips at him, begging.

He urges me to turn and I crawl to my knees, offering myself. His talented tongue explores my exposed sex, fingers pressing, teasing, until I mutter over and over, "Fuckme. fuck, me, fuck me....."

He growls something that sounds like "My Pleasure" and I find myself being pounded into the mattress. My muscles clench around him, milking him on each stroke and I buck back, slamming into him. He begins to shake, hands gripping my hips as he takes me hard and fast. I reach beneath myself, reaching back to play with his balls. With a roar, Magnus rams deep. I feel him pulsing, throbbing as he cums, and it tumbles me over the edge. My vaginal muscles clench around him, milking out every drop as I melt around him.

He wraps an arm around my waist and rolls, keeping me well impaled. Shifting, he rolls us to our sides, I moan softly and wriggle back. Magnus moans my name softly, "Nadji... Nice homecoming...."

There are still clothes to remove. They are tangled around my waist and his legs, but right now... who the fuck cares....