Filthy logo

Homecoming

The Urgency of Coming... Home

By Pandora DarkbloodPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
Like

The train pulled into the station and she began to breathe heavily. It had been 8 long months since the last time she was near him. An eternity for souls that have mated. The steam from the engine surrounded her, causing her blonde locks to tumble further to her face, and the screams of the whistles barely drowned out the pounding of her heart. People began to shuffle off the platform and with each new shadow, her pulse quickened. She fears she may faint soon. Suddenly, she felt woozy and took in a sharp breath. He was near. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on her truest and deepest weakness. He had already seen her, for his penetrating eyes were already fixed. He glided through the mass of people as if they parted ways for him. His tall and slender build made him less than overwhelming, but his gait and movements commanded others to cower and gape, which they did. He crossed the distance between them and embraced her quickly. Spectators turned as such a public display was considered wanton. She cared nothing for the eyes that leered, only his arms around her. She softened against him and whimpered a sigh of rapture into his ear. He was hard immediately. She pulled back and looked into his strange colored eyes.

"Dimitrious?"

"Lorna." He spoke her name as if it was the answer to every question known to man.

"I..." she started but lowered her eyes down with a blush, so overtaken by his being. He corrected this by grabbing her chin and jerking her face upward toward his. She gasped in pleasure and her emerald gaze met his.

"Have you missed me, my Dove?" he purred, a flash of animalistic desire in his voice. His Dove replied in the way she should, by grazing her white-gloved hand over his erection and sweetly licking her luscious pink lips. Looking around swiftly, he chose to steal her back onto the train in the locked dining car.

The minute their mouths touched a surge of turbulent delight swept through them. He was nipping and licking her lips. She was touching his shaft and leaving hot trails of kisses over his neck and chest. He threw his head back, lost in the sensation of her. She fell to her knees and took him into her mouth, tasting his essence. He moaned aloud and plunged his hands into her hair. Her wicked mouth played him until he feared losing himself there. Lifting her onto the table, facing him, and placing her feet on the stools, he spread her wide. She was writhing and arching for him to enter her. He held back, only rubbing the head of his member against her opening and swollen need. She wiggled for access and he held her hips solid.

"What do you want?" he taunted. She only whimpered in response. He pressed harder against her.

"What do you want?" he asked again. This time she tried to push hard into him. He pulled back completely, pulled her hair back, and settled his lips a breath from hers.

"What. Do. You. Want?" he growled, each word separated by a devilish lick to each of her lips.

"Dimitrious!" She cried. It was all he needed as he filled her to the core. She growled in turn now as she lay back onto the table and he rhythmically drove her to insanity. As he felt her orgasm rip through her, he plunged harder, then grabbed her golden hair and pulled her mouth to him so she could drink every drop he had saved for her. She took many mouthfuls, looking up at him, the smoldering passion and true love in her eyes. She wiped her lips clean and said, "Welcome home, my love."

erotic
Like

About the Creator

Pandora Darkblood

Just a naughty Librarian with a fire in her soul.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.