Free ElyriasEcstasy by Amber Jayne and Eric Del Carlo Page B

again and Rune felt his orgasm lurking
tantalizingly close. Just out of reach, as it had been for several minutes now,
despite the steady plowing he’d been giving her. He released his grip on
Lavinia’s hips, brought his hands to her shoulders, shifted himself, pulling
her up onto her knees. He planted his own knees between hers as she settled
onto all fours.
    She made no protest when his fingers crept in from her
shoulders to curl around her throat. She was accustomed to his proclivities.
Immediately, as he applied pressure, he was closer to completion, waves of
warmth and pleasure in his groin spiraling outward and up his spine. He jerked
Lavinia upright onto her knees with a low growl. She didn’t struggle, though
sometimes he liked that, too.
    He pulled her against his chest, her backbone pressing onto
his sternum. He felt the sweat-dampness of her flesh. His hands still clasped
her throat. His hair, as dark as hers, blended with her locks as he dropped his
forehead onto her shoulder. She fell back onto him and he found himself even
deeper inside her. She rode his cock hard, grinding her pussy on him and
gasping urgently. By the motions of her shoulder he could tell she was sliding
her hand up and down her clit, spreading her wetness onto him as she started to
come, and he was set to join her—
    Just as the alarms let loose.
    These were followed by three sharp bangs in the short
distance, all coming from different directions. Gunshots? No, of course not.
Doors slamming. The corridors of the Shadowflash wing were suddenly alive with
commotion.
    Bootsteps were moving in the direction of his room, quickly.
ETA, one minute, forty-five seconds. That was, however, a genuine estimate.
Rune could only pick out sounds with absolute razor certainty when Urna was
involved. Otherwise his senses were merely extraordinary, not superhuman. Another
reminder of that treacherous affinity they could never seem to escape.
    “Stop,” Rune ground out. “Get off .”
    But there was no stopping Lavinia as she relentlessly rode
the waves of her orgasm, delirious with pleasure. Her vaginal walls gripped him
like a slick fist.
    “I said, off!” The urgency of his own body’s needs had been
canceled out by the sounding of the alarms, which continued to wail in the
nighttime. He finally managed to shove her roughly forward. She offered a small
yelp of surprise, sprawling across the mattress as he wrenched his
still-rampant cock from her. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and
reached down to retrieve his discarded clothing.
    His denied orgasm was meaningless, he told himself grimly,
even as he found some difficulty wedging his rigid shaft down into his briefs.
Duty called.
    Lavinia rolled onto her back, cast Rune a disparaging
glance. He paused to eye her vaguely up and down. With her knees spread and her
pussy dripping, propped up on her elbows with her breasts heaving, she still
managed to look oddly dignified, more offended than ridiculous.
    “What is it?” she wanted to know.
    Not knowing why he deigned to reply, he said, “Someone’s
coming.” He pulled his pants up one-handed, not bothering with the drawstring.
With a curt snap of his other arm he tossed Lavinia the gauzy garment she
always wore on these visits.
    He’d once briefly entertained the idea that all of the women
who’d come to his room over the years—and, he knew, to Urna’s room as well—were
first taken to a changing area somewhere containing nothing but this same
flimsy dress and a hundred like garments. Color and size would vary slightly to
accommodate individual preferences. Did some female who Urna routinely fucked
also wear this same sheer garb he always thought of as Lavinia’s? The notion
had troubled him when it first occurred to him. Why? Did it bother him that
women were sent to pleasure Urna too, if that was even the accurate verb to
apply to what these females did? He and his Weapon partner never discussed the
matter in depth. Of course