I have always wondered what would have happened if that explosion and the Lord Master hadn't happened that night under The Burren. The sexual tension, the pent up lust between us, was it real? Was it the unseelie flesh within me amplifying the sins I kept on tight lock and key? All I know is the man named Jericho Barrons haunts my dreams occasionally, with promises of what could have been that night. He was a leftie, and boy could I tell that night. The grinding, it was harder than normal... but I could with stand the extra pressure, I was stronger. The tight grip in my hair, his tongue thrusting in my mouth, his hot skin, the ripping of clothes, his and my shirt... the thought of it all sends tingles down my spine. I mean not V'lane tingles (or were his shudders, convolutions?), but by lord I swear if Barrons tried, he could make me let loose almost as much as the seelie prince could. Though I do feel V'lane, unfortunately, will always be number one in my book.
Through all of this, upon returning to the bookstore, every night when I didn't have nightmares or my conscious or my afternoon (or is that month?) with my sister on my mind, I dream of what could have been with Jericho. I am MacKayla Lane, and I think I may actually like the man who seems to save my life - a lot, Jericho Barrons. I always remember the dream, it is so vivid I either expect he will be next to me, slumbering or starting with amusement at me, but I wake up to the cold lonely bed that is my own. He is never at the book store when I open for shop, but that is usually for the best. Although I still cannot look in his molten eyes without remembering that kiss, the heated, intense kiss shared between us... then the dream surfaces.
I starts as it was, the argument over who it was to have killed Malluce, now I do regret not killing him but I have the Lord Master to try and wrestle, then 'blows' were exchanged, Barrons really was holding back, so was I mind you, and then he said the magic words. The ones that set me off, I had pent up frustration and what better way to relieve it... "Fuck you, Ms. Lane" ah how I wish now. The fistful of hair that he grabbed was deliciously painful, with the unseelie in me, I realised I kind of liked the pain. His mouth moving against mine, the handful of hair we had of each other, seeing who would pull back first, but it just egged us on. Ripping his shirt to reveal the wondrous body he had, has I suppose, oh how I wanted to see where those tattoos went. The frantic kissing between us, but in my dream this didn't end, there was no explosion. Eventually I punch him, roll over and straddle him. He is no little boy either, evident when I press myself onto him, pressing my torso to his, smashing my mouth against his once more. We resume the bump and grind, oh how constricting clothes are when all you want to do, for lack of a better word, is fuck. Rolling us over once more, he pulls his mouth from my own, trailing wet hard kissed down my neck to my breasts, where I swear he groans (I know I know it is my dream but hell I can't tell!) and takes one hard nipple in his mouth, all the while one hand works the other breast and his remaining arm snakes its way around my back holding me in place, and at the same time unclips the bra to remove it. I grab his hair, thrusting my chest to his eager mouth and pulling him closer. The grip I maintain is none to gentle, so when he bit down on my almost neglected nipple I almost yanked some of his hair out. This does nothing to stop his onslaught on my chest. I can do nothing but yield to the pleasure he brings me, and wonder if he is this good with his mouth elsewhere and if he is better with other appendages. His hand left my breast to fumble with my trousers which ends up torn off my body in his impatience, and with that I am rolled over once more, to straddle this hunk, which his mouth back on my own. Now only in none too modest (I need to feel sexy in one way or another, why not underwear?) thong, he stops kissing me, and with an appreciatory smirk, he thrusts up. The friction of his trousers and hard member under my core, I can help but moan aloud. My hands go to his waist band where I don't even attempt to unbutton the trousers and rip them open. I smother my hands up his black (What else) boxers, up his torso to his own smaller tight nipples, and further to his shoulders. His eyes close, a groan forced out and an involuntary thrust, I snake my way up his body to allow for the trousers to be removed. Now on equal footing in terms of clothing, this war for dominance begins in the kissing once more. Now as Jericho is so much larger than I am, he sat up, gripping my petu-ass and pulling me closer, grinding me to him. The pleasure is amazing, it sends waves of heat through my body, causing my legs to tremble and I haven't even orgasmed yet! Lifting us both, still gripping my ass tight with both hands, he walks over to the nearest wall; he pushes us both against it. My hands reach his hair again, grabbing handfuls; I pull him closer, earning another thrust. This is just glimpsing to what could happen between us. We both need release, and we will damn sure get it tonight. Dropping his boxers, and tearing my thong away from my body, I feel his swollen head at the entrance to my core. With anticipation, I gasp pulling back from the kiss.
No backing out now
I asked for it
Yes... yes you did
Fuck me
And with that, all it took was a wordless look and he trust up into me, filling me to the hilt. All the biting, pulling of hair, fighting for dominance got me so wet he didn't even need to do it himself. I swear I will make him work for it harder next time... if there is a next time (Or is that a first time?). The steady thrusting in and out was glorious. It felt so good to be filled to the max once again; it really had been so long.
Faster, harder fuck me Jericho
As you wish Mac
These glances were all it took for us to get into the swing of this. He pounded into me, thrusting with an inhuman speed, but I kept up with him, matching his thrusts. It wasn't long before the orgasm crashed down on me, digging my broken and battered nails into his shoulders, screaming my orgasm to the caverns of The Burren. Jericho's face was buried into my neck, kissing his was to my throat, it was bliss, the thrusting and the kissing. It felt amazing.
"Fuck Mac, do that again and I will end this" He said, muffled by my skin at his mouth
"That was all you big boy... definitely all you" I mutter back breathless, one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. He must have liked that, but knew he wouldn't last if he kept up the pace so he sat on the floor, back to the wall.
"The lets see you then, shall we?" He had a devilish smirk, one that could get you to do anything and god I wanted to do him. I set my rhythm, slow but steady, smirking at Jericho, his hands flexing on my hips, urging me to go faster. I built my pace, till it was hard and fast and he was pulling me back onto him. He hit that sweet spot that he couldn't quite reach in our previous position; I could feel another orgasm building with every thrust that hit me. I leaned forward, nibbled his ear and whispered,
"Still not me, but it can be if you let go" his hands relaxed from my hips and went to my breasts. Kneading them, and not my hips, I could roll them, obviously to Jericho's pleasure as he momentarily stopped his ministrations on my chest, his eyes sliding closed. I kept the fast pace, the rolling of my hips, though to aid in the angle, I leaned back on one arm, the other thrown haphazardly behind his neck. I could tell he wouldn't last much longer, and when he opened his eyes again I could see behind them that this was the point of no return. I brought us closer and closer to the edge till we were teetering on the bliss that was the end. It didn't take long before I rolled my hips one last time, and brought myself and him with me over and into that awaiting bliss. He grabbed my hips once again and he jerked a couple of times, emptying his seed in me. I slumped forward, leaning on his muscled chest, breathing heavily. I could feel his heart racing a mile a minute, thundering as fast as my own, after such an intense session of sex. Amazing, ah-ma-zing, sex, but that's where it ends, the smiling at each other, slumping to the side and sleeping in each other's arms. When I awake, I realise it was all a dream, and what my body wants, I am not bold enough to take for myself. Luckily this dream is not every night, however he does give me funny looks every now and then, especially after a night with the dream, almost as if he knows that I dreamt of him. He has occasionally hinted that I may have screamed in my sleep and he has heard... but either way... it is my dirty little secret. For now. Watch out Jericho Barrons, I will have you.