Bending Tyme Read Free

meeting its mark, that sweet pain sending adrenaline rushing through her system in synergy with the pleasure fuelling a slow burn between her legs. Esme started moaning. He caressed her other cheek with his free hand as he brought the crop down again, then he slid his fingers, tentative at first, then sure, into her wet cunt.
    The first orgasm left her gasping. Esme pushed herself up from the bed, but he moved quicker, spinning her to face him now, flexing rock-hard biceps to pull her against his chest—his mouth so close to hers. Esme felt his heated breath between her own parted lips—then he threw her down again, onto her back on the feather-filled mattress.
    Esme scrambled up, pushing him down instead, the mattress sinking under his weight. Esme straddled his legs, the coarse dark hairs that covered his thighs teasing her pussy lips, sending electric jolts of pleasure to her engorging clit. His eyes widened at her strength, his mouth curving into a faint smile, yet he offered no resistance, lost in the scent and sensations of her moist cunt rubbing his thighs. He stroked his fingertips along her taut abs, encircling her well-toned biceps with his broad palms as if he fondled something novel, unfamiliar—entirely intoxicating.
      “I want to ride,” she murmured, distracted by his eyes—they shaded from that striking aquamarine to a deeper cobalt blue, his golden mask emphasising their brilliant colour. Esme looked away, swept up in a passion she fast lost control over, mesmerised by the lust in his eyes mixed with some other emotion—was he infatuated with her? Not cool for a one-time rendezvous, she thought. Still…Esme ran her hands across his belly and down the length of his rock-hard cock, the ache in her pussy begging for release, pushing any other concern away.
      Esme straddled his hips, running one finger along the ridge of his cock, his hard length hers for the taking, sliding ever so slowly down each substantial inch of him as she took him inside her. He sat up, the heavy muscles across his torso straining as he supported them both, those magnificent biceps flexing again as he took her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes while she rocked her hips back and forth, her rhythm deliberate, driving them both to the brink.
    “Make me come,” she moaned.
    He lost control, falling back to the bed, the spasms from her tight walls squeezing him dry, his hot cum filling her up, spilling out over them both into the damp, twisted sheets.
    In spite of herself, Esme reached up to remove his mask, but her hands shook, vertigo washing over her again. The last thing she remembered, he was leaning over her, touching her face again in that intimate gesture. Esme protested, then capitulated, surrendering to his caress, his touch soothing her as she sank into some dreamless place.

Chapter Two

    An acrid stench of unwashed bodies mingled with low-grade tobacco and even cheaper alcohol assaulted Esme’s nostrils. The smell, wafting through the open window, carried on the cacophony of voices rising from two storeys below.
    “Party moved to the street, huh?” Esme mumbled, wincing, pain shooting through her muddled brain. She lifted the first item of clothing she reached—his ruffled shirt—and slipped its voluminous length over her head. She sat up, willing the room to stop its riotous spinning, and walked unsteadily to poke her head out of the window and watch her friends below. The effort proved too much—Esme vomited, the contents of her stomach splattering a couple of party-goers below.
    “Watch yerself, you stupid tart!” the woman yelled, shaking her fist. Her hair, a rat’s nest of tangled knots twisting around her lined face, a perfect frame for the dirt streaking her coarse features. Esme’s eyes widened—the woman sported several missing front teeth. Esme noted the few she still had displayed various states of decay, evident even in the dim light from the windows below.
    Busy groping her