Page 53 of Dark Elf's Good Girl
“Now, I’ll ask you again. Who does this beautiful cunt belong to?” he asks as the knife reaches my underwear which must be soaked through by now. I gasp as he drags it slowly over my sex.
“Y…You,” I manage, and hope that it’s audible. “You, Aiken.”
He looks up at me, his golden eyes almost alight though his features and tone still carry that intoxicating air of darkness. “Good girl, Isla. That’s right. It belongs to me,” he says.
The dagger is now at my hip, slicing off my underwear, first one side then to the other and somehow, he manages to pull my legs even wider apart so that I’m completely naked and exposed to him.
He dives between them like a starved animal, eating at me, his tongue plunging inside me, his lips everywhere. There is no part of my sex he leaves undiscovered with his mouth and once he has tasted me completely, he finally lands on my sweet spot.
He rolls his tongue over it softly, until I am begging him for release, and this is what he gives me. I arch my back as his mouth envelops the apex of my sex, sucking at my clit, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from my desperate body.
I’m screaming his name as I explode, no part of my being untouched by the waves that rip through me. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going and going until I’m at the precipice again.
My hands are in his hair but then he’s moving backwards, and I open my eyes to see him on his knees, pulling his shirt open and unbuttoning his pants, his huge, hard cock straining to get me.
“Fuck!” he cries as plunges into me, the parts that he was unable to reach with his fingers and tongue gripping onto him, desperate to be stroked by his incredible length.
Oh, gods he can own all of me, just as he says if that is his wish. Because I’m beginning to think it is mine. As he plows into me, his breathing heavy, his strong arms encasing me I look up into his eyes, his face more beautiful than I’ve ever seen it.
“Aiken,” I say, my voice almost lost now as he works me to another climax, this time the pleasure rising from deep within me, where his flesh and mine meet. I close my eyes and lose myself to the bliss, my body showing me things I never knew possible.
All I can hear are his cries as he calls my name, spilling into me, filling me to the brim. Then he’s whispering into my ear, his skin hot and moist with sweat.
“Isla, you’re mine. Please be mine.”
Before I even say it, we both know I’m his.
22
AIKEN
Time is quickly running out. Each day that passes is a day closer to Calix finally getting his hands on Isla, and having his way with her.
I cannot afford to let that happen, I think to myself, pacing back and forth in my office. I need to get her out of here somehow.
There’s not much time left to formulate a solid plan. I gaze out of my window in deep thought, mulling over each and every possibility. The pressure is on to get Isla to safety before it’s too late.
“I’m going to do everything that I can for you, Isla.”
I run my eyes across the garden below, eventually coming to a stop at the stable. It’s that sight that sprouts within me a devious plan.
I can buy more time to get things ready by stalling Calix however I can, even if it means having to play a little bit dirty…
Sometime later, I’m out in the gardens under the guise of a stroll as I make my way towards the stables. I walk by it a few times, checking to see if it's clear of any staff.
Once I see it is clear, I take a quick glance around me before proceeding. I step inside, greeted with whinnies and neighs from some of the equus.
“Hey there,” I say to one of them. “Don’t mind me, I just have a little business to attend to.”
From my pocket, I pull out a loose cryot and feed it to the beast. I throw a couple more into the enclosures for the others before venturing deeper into the stables.
Stowed at the rear are a few carriages, closed off by a small gate to keep them out of reach from the animals. Each one is large and pristine, spotlessly clean both on its exterior and interior.
“Such a shame,” I mutter to myself, running a hand along the polished wheels as I trot to a nearby tool shed. I open it and browse amongst the selection of utensils at my disposal. I fish out a crowbar, twirling it around in my hands like a new toy.
I turn around, glancing at the stable entrance again for extra measure before returning to the carriages. I rear the crowbar back and wedge it in between the wheel and its slot on the main body of the carriage, jimmying it back and forth until the wheel loosens up.
There comes a sudden pop as the wheel comes off. I push it back into its slot ever so slightly, so as to make it look like it came naturally loose from being on the road. I go around doing the same to two other wheels, leaving the fourth wheel untouched.