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For a male as big as he is, a gladiator, he’s surprisingly tender. My inner walls clutch him as he slides in, slow and steady.
“Good?” he asks through clenched teeth as he struggles for control.
“Don’t stop,” is my urgent answer.
His response is a satisfied chuckle, and then he quickens his pace.
It’s only when he’s fully seated and I begin rising to meet him on every thrust that the true magic begins. That little patch of thick plating hits right on my clit, giving it that extra hint of pressure that takes this act from wonderful to sublime.
I know we’re both exhausted and won’t get much sleep as it is, but perhaps it’s the promise of tragedy tomorrow that impels us both to prolong the act.
He takes me so close to the edge I’m certain my nails are drawing blood through his thick shoulder plating, but he backs off right before I find release. He slows his pace, then picks it back up again, always skirting the grand finale.
At the beginning, his hips were like a machine, pistoning hard in and out, but now he adds a little hip circle each time he’s in to the hilt.
“Xzavic, don’t stop,” I whisper. My tone is somewhere between an order and a plea.
He keeps taking me to higher planes of pleasure, then backing off. With each new level, my arousal spikes higher until I can’t bear to wait a moment longer.
“Now,” he says in a growly whisper as he thrusts harder and bites the place where my neck meets my shoulder.
My orgasm detonates in my clit, then ricochets deeper into my body, circling my pelvis and sparking like lightning out to my limbs. I wrap my thighs even tighter around his hips, as if I could keep him inside me for eternity while my body spasms in bliss.
As I float back to reality, I hear my own grunting moans. I thought I’d kept quiet. I guess not. Perhaps our audience might not have heard me over Xzavic’s bark of pleasure as he released into me.
I figured I’d never get to sleep tonight, but I guess even if you’re going to die tomorrow, after an orgasm like that your body can’t stay awake.
As I’m drifting off, I realize he’s pulling my pants up and my shirt down, covering me from the camera’s watchful eye. Then he pulls me flush to his warm body, my back to his chest, and slips his arm under my head so I can use his bicep for a pillow.
My last thought as I fade off is that this is probably my last night alive.
