Safe

I want to be your monster. The terrible thing you make a pact with to hold you in the night and keep you safe. Who keeps you close and warm and safe from all the other bumps in the night. The man who's presence can lull you to sleep or wake you up with a gasp, merely from where I touch you. To keep you as secure in my grip as you are in my thoughts.

---

Something about you rouses me from sleep and I find my hands sliding through your hair in the scant light of the pre-dawn. It takes a moment to adjust, to really come back into focus, so I let my hands do my thinking for me. They travel the length of you dark hair to the end and a few extra inches over your ashen skin.

You stir, emitting a pleasant moan. And with it I am brought back to life instantly.

My blue eyes open to scan over you as my hand slides down your back, over your spine, and back up your side. I make small circles and designs playing over it as I become aware of heavy breathing, my elevated heart rate. The cock you've made insufferably hard just by being as desirable as you are.

This time, when my hand slides over the nape of your neck and you moan, I growl lowly and feel my cock stretch in a painful jut forward.

There must be some expectation here because you do not move at all. No shift or waking in any way. How many times have you made me growl for you before its even light outside? How often have I painted little invisible symbols on your back so that you don't even wake when it's happening?

I move closer to you, my left hand snaking up to reach under you so I can slide my index finger up and down the front of your neck. My right hands surfs along your curves, from your knee up to the middle of your thigh. From your hip to the small of your stomach and up your ribs and over your arm. It's a journey I've made a thousand times and want to make a million more. I am only a man though, and my hand drops to move over the side of your right breast.

There is no way I can avoid touching them, not if I can help it, and often if I can't. I wonder how any man could. My fingers trace along the outer rim, touching both your breast and the skin of your chest, doing my best to avoid your nipple. I trace a concentrated circle around the edge before drifting aimlessly across your torso, your thighs and up again as a second finger begins to stroke the front of your neck.

My cock is too hard and full to hide, so I press the whole of my body up against yours, and let it fall between your thighs. There is just the hint of heat of and wetness without touching and knowing it's there, how close I am, makes just the tiniest bit of human escape through hot, wanting breath.

You mumble something in sleep talk, but I do not hear it. And it doesn't matter what it was at this point—the outcome is set.

Fingers stop stroking your neck and instead my hand slowly clasps around it, not to tighten or choke in anyway, just to hold it. To claim you. To have you in hand because I can't get any closer to you.

Something dark rises to the surface. It wants to talk from the back of my throat and move hot blood through my body like I'm running in the summer. Like I'm dying of thirst and I need to squeeze water out of you. As though there is no other way for us to be. It ramps up the sensation of your skin on mine, of my touch on you, of the closeness of our bodies and the cold comfort of the night. It tells me to smell you.

And it is so right to do so. This is when you smell best. When there is only the after-hint of perfume, when the shampoo has all but left. When the only thing I get, truly sense, is you. The smell of your hair. Your skin. It is intimate and close and I wouldn't trade it for any other thing you can give until I need the next part of your more.

Lips press into your shoulder. Long, slow pulses pressed into you before I suck the tiniest bit. Move and repeat. No quick trail, no rapid burst, just me trying my best to get some of the taste of you in my mouth.

You shift and the tip of your pussy lips rub against the top of my cock before it slides between your thighs again. Innocent, or so I think, but it exercises a little bit more of the man right out of me.

I growl and you shift again. You start to turn so I pull back and let you move towards me. Your eyes are small and covered in fog, but you give me a smile and say hi.

Hi, I say back.

You lean your head up expectantly and we kiss, lightly, morning breath and all. It deepens a little but you pull back and look at me. You hold my gaze for a moment before your eyes close again and you nuzzle into my arm, ignoring my hand around your neck like its not even there. And after a moment, you fall black asleep.

My right hand plays up and down your thighs, the full of my palm sliding against your skin, pulling and coax one leg towards me and the other away. I repeat the process a few times until I've opened your legs enough to slink in between them. I release my grip on you as I slide out from under your weight to place a kiss near your navel. I place a small trail of them leading your chest so that I can place a few short, quick ones on the side of your beautiful breasts. But I can't resist, and the kisses become longer, slower, more needy. Before I know it I'm taking small pieces of you into my mouth and have to stop from sucking you, from waking you before I'm ready.

After a deep breath I come back down, kissing as I go. I make a little figure eight on your spread thighs, kissing in a semi circle on your left, finishing on the right, and ending with a single, firm kiss against your pussy. Nowhere near the top, as I don't want to touch your clit, not yet.

You taste wonderful in the morning, despite how much you fret. A full day and a half without a shower and I would still love to eat your pussy like we had just met, with hands on your ass and face buried into you deep enough that you can feel just the hint of my beard and the full of the warmth from my skin. But just like your clit, not yet, not today. Something else is stirring in me and its far too hungry to wait.

Two more long, giving kisses on your pussy and I'm on my way back to you, to look at you for a moment. Gun to my head, I couldn't tell if you were actually asleep or not, but my need doesn't care. I reach a hand down between your lips and stroke the outside to gauge your wetness before moving a single finger in, no longer concerned with being delicate.

You shift, but do not open your eyes, and I pull my finger immediately out. I am satisfied that you are ready.

My left hand returns to your neck to grip it as my right grabs the base of my cock, grabs it tightly, and points the head against your slit. I exhale as I push just enough into you that I can release, move my body close to yours, into your yours as my right hand pushes into the mattress to keep myself propped up.

I take a long, slow breath as I shift the weight my palm to my elbow and begin to slide into you, inch by slow inch.

Your cunt feels amazing, every time I enter it. I pity every many who hasn't been with you and what they don't get to feel. Every fool who thinks that sex with a woman becomes less special over time. If they could only spend a little time inside you.

You shift and I groan, and that seems to bring you closer to rousing, but you say nothing, just emit little noises.

Once all the way in I move my hand up to the side of your face to stroke your cheek as I begin to slowly move myself in and out of you. Long, slow pushes and pulls, the tip of my cock shuddering violently as I torture myself. It's sweet, but at the same time, the motion strains the last of the humanity out of me.

It doesn't take long before the shift comes and I start pushing in harder, faster. Pulling out with anticipation of the next push. It builds, so much quicker than I'd like to control, but that's what you are to me—the woman that makes me crave and lose centeredness at the same time.

My eyes are narrowed, hot daggers focused on your face. I'm just waiting for them to open now. They do not shift to your bouncing tits or deep breaths or parting lips. They just wait for your eyes to open. It's all I want now. And so it stops becoming about being in you, and becomes fucking. Long, full strokes into you that stop with a jolt so I can ram into you again and again.

And the moment your eyes open I'm ready and put my hand over your mouth.

I tell you to be quiet. That you belong to me. That you are mine and I'll do what I want with you. That I'm the biggest, baddest god damn monster you ever met and this what I'll take from you to keep the shadows at bay.

You moan into my hand, some mix of words and deep breath, eyes open wider as I start to rail in and out of you, growling and convulsing as I do. Long full slams into your sublimely wet pussy. I'm still doing it in my own rhythm, for me, so that there is a pause after every thrust. I want nothing more than to cum into you, fill you up with it, but I force the wait so I can take you, have you be mine, for just a few moments longer.

When I get to the point that I can no longer stand it, that it feels like cum is going to burst out of me, I slow inside you, back to little slow strokes as I side my hand from your mouth and replace it with my lips, kissing into you so hard I feel just a hint of your teeth beneath them. It makes me growl, and I only notice when I'm done that it made me tighten my grip on your neck.

Say you're mine, I demand. And it's only when you comply that I loosen my grip.

I pull out of you with a growl, move away from your legsand flip you onto your stomach with a single, harsh turn of your hips. I slap your ass once and am on you before you can do anything but whelp. I shove your legs apart and press down into your back, then push into your pussy slowly.

I instruct you to say that you're mine with every single push. I fuck so you can keep the tempo as my hands slide up to your shoulders. I grip them and push into them all at once for the leverage I need enter at your favorite angle.

I start pushing faster and faster until you can no longer keep up. I demand you continue saying it, even as your breath fails, even as it comes to quickly. I laugh when you fall behind, and I go faster, demanding it again. Say you're mine. Say you're mine. Say you're mine.

My left hand moves back to your neck as my right slides down to snake between the sheets and your skin to move to your pussy, and to reach up and stroke your clit.

You've given up saying anything now. Both of our worlds have become so small that they fit inside you.

My body presses against yours, molds to it, until we are as close as can be, my fingers tightening around your neck, rapidly sliding back and forth across your clit as I pound you from behind. Little hard strokes, not going anywhere near fully in or out, sacrificing everything for the speed as we both edge closer and closer.

I scream out your name, my face only inches from your ear as I push past my climax and get the final few strokes into you. And then I'm cumming and cumming before collapsing into your skin.

We lay there for a moment, my body on top of yours, heavy and dead, panting and breathing slowly.

I pull out soft, wondering how long we've been there. Not long, since it's still dark out. I reach for you when I'm back on my side, and you come, pushing yourself, giggling a little, moaning a little, and probably still cross from being woken that way.

You pull into me easily, and I'm spooning you again, your slightly damp hair brushing against my chest, both of my arms tight around your torso. You put your hands atop them, grip them and whisper "My monster."

And I am nothing else before I fall back asleep.