Brave by The 12 NAs of Christmas, Zoe Dawson

like
brands.
    “Don’t
touch me,” I whispered against her mouth, panting, pleading.
    But
her hands traveled up my back, and with my open mouth still on hers,
I absorbed the sensation greedily.
    She
pushed at me, and I tumbled, just like I had in my dream, and she
straddled me, her pelvis exactly where I needed her. She thrust her
hips.
    “Oh
God,” I whispered without moving. “Oh, god, oh, god…”
    She
pressed her mouth to mine, not giving me a moment to catch my breath.
It was her pixie magic that consumed me, seeped through muscle and
bone like enchanted wildfire. My hips bucked with the sheer agony of
pleasure that rolled through me like a freight train. My hands
gripped her waist, desperate for something to anchor me in my
violently twisting world of sensations, like rushing air lovingly
filling the vacuum inside me.
    She
gasped for air, meeting my tongue. My hand tightened on her waist. It
slid upward and opened intimately, embracing the full shape of her
breast. My thumb closed against my finger, teasing her hard nipple
through the soft fabric of her sweater and lacy bra beneath.
    Sharp
sensation shot through me as her hips reacted, jackknifing into mine
for relief. I slipped my hand over her back, pushing her into the
grip I had on her nipple, sliding my thumb in a slow, coaxing
rotation. Her body shuddered and she moaned, piercing me with her
ecstasy.
    I
kissed her again, hard, tasting sweet excitement as my fingers drew
little twitches and a deep arching of her body, innocence driven into
untutored lust. My reason was dissolving, and I wanted to take her
completely. Right here. Right now. She was driving me crazy, close
and yet forbidden. I wanted the tempest and I wanted the calm that
came after.
    She
pressed fully along my taut body, triggering a wave of sensation, an
erotic clenching, that knotted every muscle. Her hips moved again,
her pelvis grinding against mine.
    I
made an anguished sound. With another shudder, I rose to meet her
frantic movements, the heavy fullness in my dick expanding with each
thrust.
    I
held her hard, one arm crushed across her lower back, my dick pressed
hard against the fly of my jeans. My teeth scored her neck and she
gasped my name as her body jerked ecstatically against mine.
    “ Fuucckk !”
    My
cry was hoarse, the pleasure so intense made me go liquid inside as
my orgasm released with a stunning backlash of pleasure that went on
and on. A shudder racked me, my hips rocking against her with a
rough, frantic motion.
    I
knew it was a terrible mistake, a terrible miscalculation on my part.
My body throbbing with the pleasure she’d given me, I felt as
if everything had exploded into chaos, all the work I’d done to
make myself numb, she’d destroyed it in a few moments.
Pulsating life slammed through me, and in that moment I realized, dear
god, I was alive. So alive.
    Suddenly
her cries touched off something. Things got hazy, and the world
shifted into that sick sensation I knew way too well. There were
noises that I didn’t want to hear, and I tried to cover my
ears, but they weren’t silenced. I turned my head, and Elsa’s
eyes stared at me, pleading with me. But I was chained. I couldn’t
move. I couldn’t get to her.
    “No!”
I shouted, and in my delusion, I knocked Alissa to the floor. It was
as if the flashback overlaid my eyes and I saw two different
realities. I scrambled off the couch, but it felt like the hard
ground to me. In my haste, I hit my head on the coffee table, but it
was a rifle that connected to my temple. Stinging agony rolled
through me. My raw back stung with open wounds from the torture I’d
received only hours before. The wind caused spikes of pain through my
ruined shirt.
    “Elsa!
Fuck, no! Stop it you bastards! Leave her alone!”
    I
pulled and pulled, my wrist a bloody mess, but the chain held me. I
wanted to kill them with my bare hands, and it shattered my sense of
who I was, the pieces jagged and sharp stabbing through everything