The Black Onyx Pact by Morgana D. Baroque Page A

flairs his nostril like a wild bull ready to gore, while he tries to refrain from assaulting her like an animal. With her he feels like a teenager again, unable to control his bestial instincts. On one hand this bothers him, but on the other hand it excites him a lot! He must have her. Immediately. He unbuttons his pants and frees his hard member penetrating her slowly, since she is too tight to be taken violently. She holds her breathe, trying to relax to let him insinuate inside her warm body. Drakkar grabs her firmly by her thighs and begins to push her on his potent masculinity. In few minutes he is pushing hard in her while she moans and begs him to push even harder. He looks up to the sky, trying to control the vital energy that moves his body now. He enjoys the warmth of her delicate body, loving every second in her. His strong arms draws her to him in a regular rhythm, filling the air with the sound of her pink skin banging hard against his testicles. He grabs the dress and lowers it roughly, revealing her delicate breast, then slaps it to the side many times, growling like a beast. His other hand caresses strongly her neck, her face, her hair; then he grabs her by the throat and squeezes just enough to make her moan. With two fingers touches the clitoris, increasing the pleasure for both. Sibylle touches gently the hand holding her throat, caresses his arm and then holds his big wrist with both her hands — whit her fingers barely touching — and begins to suck his thumb. Soon she feels the orgasm approaching, so she moves her body faster against him, sucking harder his finger.
    «Drakkar! Oh y — yes, yes, yes! I'm coming!»
    The man pushes deeper and few moments later Sibylle is writhing in the pleasure of the orgasm, screaming gutturally. Drakkar growls loudly in her helmet, moving her against him with such force that he almost fears of hurting her. The man comes discreetly, with his usual raucous noises that Sibylle loves so much. He gets out of her and wet her with his warm jet on her smooth stomach. They both stand still now, panting, looking — supposedly — in each other's eyes.
     
    ~
     
    Late that night, Sibylle is still up painting. On the canvas begins to come alive the image of a woman in 1920 's style, with a crystal bottle in one hand and a peacock on her right shoulder, which in the plumed tail there are many small colored spirals. She puts down her brushes and goes to lie down on the bed, but just after she closes her eyes the phone rings.
    «Yes?» she responds with a hoarse sleepy voice.
    «Good evening, it's Saphir. Forgive me for the time, madame Améthyste, I'm calling to tell you about the details of a rendezvous, if you're interested.»
    «Hmmm, no thanks, I do not think I'm — »
    «With Drakkar.»
    She sits up straight, suddenly totally awake.
    «Oh!»
    «Yes, I was even more surprised, believe me. So, are you interested?»
    «Yep. Please, tell me more.»
    «Very well. So, from your personal folder it results that you have an erotic fantasy about a burglar who sneaks into your house at night, is that so?»
    «Yes, that is correct.» she confirms, a little ashamed.
«Good», continues Saphir in a very professional manner, «Drakkar will be that burglar. He will arrive at night. You will be informed on the day but not on the precise time, just to make it more realistic.»
    «How will he get in? Do I have to let the keys somewhere?»
    Saphir laughs softly.
    «Don't worry, he knows what to do. He wants you to know that it will be a role-playing rendezvous so he wants you in role, madame Améthyste. Since you may need to get out of role there will be a secret word. If you want to talk to Drakkar instead of the ‘ burglar ’ you should simply say: Tijuana. It is similar to a safeword , but — while that serves to stop the game when it becomes too difficult to sustain right for one's own safety — a secret word can be used just to make a comment not related to the ‘ character ’ or to