Chapter 334: Lip Service (3)

Kane didn’t put her down.

He carried her the short distance to the bed, still buried inside her, Sira’s legs locked around his waist, her breath coming in broken pulls against his neck.

When the backs of her thighs met the mattress, he followed her down, braced on his good arm, and kept thrusting without giving either of them a pause to recover.

The shift in angle dragged a startled, oversensitive sound out of her throat.

"Kane— wait— I just—"

"You said harder. You said debt."

He hooked both of her legs, folded them up toward her chest, and pinned them there with his forearm, so she was open and folded under him.

"I’m not finished collecting."

Sira’s eyes widened.

The new position let him drive deeper.

Every stroke bottomed out with a wet, heavy plap that filled the chamber.

"Ah! Ah! Ahn!Ah-ha..."

Sira’s hands scrambled for the sheets, then for his shoulders, then for anything solid while he fucked her into the mattress with short, relentless thrusts.

The red marks on her ass pressed against his hips.

Her orange hair spread across the pillows in a bright wreck.

"Too much—"

Her voice cracked on the end of a particularly deep stroke.

"It’s too much, I can feel you in my—"

"Good."

Kane leaned down and kissed her, open-mouthed and messy, swallowing the rest of the protest.

Sira kissed back like she was drowning, teeth and tongue and the wet sound of it mixing with the plap plap plap of his hips.

When he pulled back an inch, she chased his mouth, still folded, still taking every thrust.

"Look at me," he said against her lips.

Sira’s eyes were already half-gone, pupils blown, the usual sharp brightness drowned under heat.

He thrust harder.

"Ugh-ah!"

Her eyes rolled back on a broken moan, lashes fluttering, mouth falling open as another orgasm tore through her without warning.

Her cunt clamped down in hard pulses.

Kane fucked her through it, grinding deep at the peak of every stroke so the climax stretched instead of breaking clean.

Sira’s voice went raw and wordless.

Her legs shook in his grip.

He did not stop when the shaking eased.

"Kane— I can’t— again—"

"You can."

He adjusted his hold, kept her folded, and changed the angle so the head of his cock dragged against the front wall of her on every stroke.

Sira’s back arched off the bed.

The sound she made was almost a sob.

"You waited through Thora and Misha and every serious face at that table. You tore into my room and shook your ass in my lap. You don’t get to decide we’re done because your eyes rolled back once."

"You’re evil—"

"You’re loud."

He kissed her again, sloppy and deep, while his hips kept the hard, wet rhythm.

"The whole wing can probably hear you. Let them. You wanted the debt paid in full."

Sira’s nails dug into his back.

Her cunt was still fluttering from the last climax, oversensitive and greedy at the same time.

Kane could feel how close she already was to another peak, the way she tightened on every withdrawal, the way her breath hitched into short, desperate sounds against his mouth.

He kept her folded and kept the pace brutal, plap plap plap steady as a drum, until her thighs started trembling again in his hands.

Then he did something new.

He pulled almost all the way out, leaving only the head of him inside her, and held there while she made a broken, protesting noise.

Before she could form a proper complaint, he pushed two fingers into her alongside his cock, stretching her wider, filling her fuller, and thrust back in to the hilt with the added pressure.

Sira’s eyes flew open.

A raw, startled cry tore out of her as the extra fullness hit every overstimulated nerve at once.

"What are you— ah— Kane—"

"Something you haven’t had yet tonight."

He fucked her like that, cock and fingers together, the stretch making every stroke feel thicker, deeper, impossible to escape.

Sira’s head thrashed against the pillow.

Her mouth fell open on continuous broken sounds.

"Come on. One more. Give it to me, and I’ll let you breathe."

"I can’t— it’s— too full—"

"You can."

He curled his fingers inside her while he thrust, finding the spot that made her entire body seize.

"Right there. That’s it. Stop fighting it."

Sira came apart.

Her third climax hit harder than the first two, a full-body convulsion that locked her legs against his chest and forced a scream into the mattress.

Her cunt spasmed around his cock and fingers in violent waves.

Juices slicked his hand and the sheets.

Kane held the angle and worked her through it until she was shaking and gasping and half-sobbing his name, completely wrecked under him.

Only then did he pull his fingers free, grip her folded legs tighter, and chase his own release with a final series of deep, punishing strokes.

He buried himself to the root and came with a rough groan, flooding her while her cunt still pulsed around him in aftershocks.

The plap of their bodies slowed, then stopped.

For a long moment the only sound in the room was their breathing and the faint creak of the bed settling.

Kane carefully lowered her legs.

Sira stayed where she was, thighs open, orange hair a disaster, ass still carrying the red prints of his hand, his cum already leaking out of her onto the sheets.

Her eyes were half-lidded and unfocused.

When she finally managed to speak, her voice was wrecked.

"Compatible... states," she whispered.

"I take it back. You’re not evil. You’re... worse."

Kane braced over her on his good arm and kissed the corner of her swollen mouth, slower this time.

"You asked for the full debt."

"I did."

Sira’s hand found his hair and tugged weakly.

"Now I don’t think I can walk again."

He huffed a quiet laugh against her cheek and eased out of her.

The mess he left behind was obvious and filthy.

Sira made no move to close her legs or clean up.

She looked exactly like what she was: a woman who had collected every hour of corridor waiting in full, and intended to sleep in the proof of it.