Rapture by AydenMorgen (+outtakes), O - S
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Rapture by AydenMorgen
Prologue - March, 2010
The music poured through the gaudy club in waves, the bass vibrating through
the floor and into the soles of her feet. It weaved through her body, awakening
her and enticing her to lose herself in the trance-like beat and move.
She obliged, raising her arms over her head and swaying her hips carefully to the
beat. Long dark hair cascaded down her back, glinting deep reds and dark browns
in the pulsing, orbiting lights.
To the casual observer, she was simply enjoying the moment.
She knew differently… and so did he. She danced for him and only for him these
days; her body priming her, opening her every sense… and leaving her poised
and aching for what she knew he would do to her.
The music called to her like a Siren, hypnotizing and mesmerizing. It took over
completely as her hips circled and her lips parted, her head thrown back to
expose the soft flesh of her throat. The room fell away from her, erased
completely in that moment of enrapture,. It was no longer enough just to move
to the beat, though. She needed more.
She needed him.
Her modest little skirt rode up her thighs as she swayed, oblivious to everything
around her. Her backless halter flowed across her body with the movement of her
arms, revealing flashes of pale, satiny skin to his absorbed gaze.
No matter how many times he saw the exact same scene unfold before him, the
effects were the same. Lust stabbed into him, tightening muscles deep in his
stomach and hardening his already aching cock. The same compulsion that left
her gyrating alone and aching on the dance floor swept through him.
It was animalistic, what she did to him. Primal. It demanded he mark her, claim
her, give her what her body sought with every beat and pulse of the music
winding through her body. He stalked across the dance floor toward her, his eyes
locked upon her form and his attention closed to any but her.
She didn't notice him weaving toward her, of course, but she felt him. His
presence was a physical touch caressing across her skin and licking at her
heightened senses. Energy unfurled inside, spreading outward to cocoon them
both.
Muscles tightened.
Moisture flowed.
His hand slid around her waist, his fingers sliding across the inch of skin flashing
in the pulsing lights as he pulled her back against him. She pressed her legs
together, reveling in the jolt of pleasure that shot through her body like an arrow
at his touch.
"Edward." His name was a sigh of relief, an acknowledgment... an affirmation.
Her arms wound around his neck as his hand pressed against her hip, fingers
curling around the bone and gripping.
"Beautiful," he breathed into the skin of her neck, pressing his lean, hard body
against hers.
She moaned as his cock rubbed against her and continued to sway to the beat,
too far gone to still her movements now. She wouldn't have even if she could.
This, music and need and desperation, was what they were. This was what they
had always been.
"Do you want me?" he questioned, nipping at the pulse in her throat as she
swayed against him, her ass rubbing time and again against his straining cock.
His own movements matched hers until they all but flowed around one another,
swaying and in their own little bubble of bass and need.
"Yes." One hand wound into his bronze locks, tugging and twisting.
"Here?" His hand inched down her hip and onto her thigh, sliding down the fabric
of her skirt inch by tantalizing inch. "Like this?"
Her blood sang louder in her veins, thrumming for him, for the music, for the
moment.
"Yes." It was a breathy exhalation, a plea.
His fingers splayed across her marred thigh, skin to skin, and swept beneath the
black fabric.
She whimpered; the call of the music muting and making way for another. For
him and what he did to her. Every part of her focused on him, attuned to his
every breath, his every movement and his every touch.
The rough fabric of his shirt whispered across her exposed shoulder blades.
Heat licked at her where their bodies touched. Even through the fabric, she could
feel his warmth calling to her, taunting her to wrap the heat around her and let
them both burn again.
She wanted to. She wanted to burst into flame and explode into ash with him.
"Please," she begged as his hand crept up her thigh, seeking and searching for
what was his and what would always be his. "Please," she begged again,
anticipation and desire building in her chest and radiating outward until
everything was swept into the feverish maelstrom he had always created in her.
"Please what, beautiful?" he asked, his velvety voice lowering, darkening, as his
palm slid higher. He could feel the slippery silk of her desire on his fingers where
moisture tracked slowly down her inner thighs to coat her in her own sweet
juices, but he needed her to say it, needed her to open her mouth and tell him
what every part of her craved from him.
Her hand fisted in his hair. Her lips parted invitingly.
His hand slid higher, fingers stroking lightly over her aching center. "No panties,"
he breathed softly, pleased. "Good girl." His palm pressed firmly into her center,
rewarding her for her boldness.
"Edward," she groaned his name as another jolt of pleasure shot through her,
more intense than the last.
One long finger danced along her folds, teasing.
"Tell me," he commanded softly, his breath coming in harsh pants in her ear.
"Touch me." She shivered as the plea spilled forth.
"Like this?" His finger slipped between her folds to ghost lightly across her clit.
She whimpered, her head falling back against his shoulder as the fire within
threatened to consume her whole. "Yes," she hissed between her teeth as he
stroked again.
Another elegant finger joined the first, rubbing tight circles. "Like this?" His teeth
raked across her earlobe, the sting a sharp counterpoint to the pleasure his
fingers was providing her.
"Yes, yes," she groaned.
"Or like this?" His fingers slipped inside her opening, pressing and spreading.
Her knees shook beneath the wanton onslaught. The fire grew, contorting into an
inferno as his fingers pumped into her. The music faded completely, replaced by
a new beat, a new pulse; his heartbeat against her back, her own thumping
disjointedly in her chest. Blood rushed through her in time to familiar, electric
hums.
His free hand tightened around her waist, holding her still and steady to his
ministrations.
"You like this," he murmured in her ear, his voice even darker and more guttural
than before. "All of these people around and not a single one even notices what
I'm doing to you. You like that, don't you?"
She did. Oh God, she did. It was a performance, a wicked dance…
"Look at them, beautiful," he commanded, his fingers pumping into her faster.
"Open your eyes and look at them."
She did as he bid, her eyes opening slowly beneath heavy lids. The strobe lights
flashed, glinting off sweating bodies gyrating and contorting all around them.
Even un-addicted, no one even looked in their direction. No one saw what he was
doing to her; his fingers buried in her center right there on the dance floor.
No one ever saw what he did to her on the dance floor.
Every night, he invaded her body. Every night, he claimed her.
And no one ever noticed. Not even when his cock slipped between her folds and
left her sobbing in pleasure.
God save her, she loved it. She loved the way he played her body, turning her
into someone she didn't recognize and didn't know. Someone desperate and
aching. She loved the way he moved around her, inside of her. He drove her to
madness time and again. Every time.
"Do you want me?" he asked again as her body began to quicken to his touch,
every muscle tightening in anticipation of the explosion about to rock through
her. "Here? Now?" His cock pressed insistently against the flesh of her ass.
"Please, Edward," she pleaded with him in harsh pants and quick gasps, writhing
beneath his touch with her eyes still trained on the oblivious crowd grinding
around them. "Oh God, please."
She was going to explode. Any minute, her body was going to fold in upon itself
in pleasure, her bones melting as he drove her over the edge into mindless,
senseless pleasure. But he would not let her fall over the edge.
It was too soon.
His fingers slowed as her walls threatened to clench and then slid from her body
altogether.
She cried out at the loss of sensation, her hand fisting harder into his hair and
jerking his head backward.
He hissed in pleasure and pain at that rough touch, his hips bucking roughly into
her.
"Taste yourself," he commanded, sliding his hand up her body and to her mouth.
"Taste how sweet you are. How ready for me you are."
Her tongue darted out hesitantly and wrapped around one finger, sucking it deep
into her mouth without question. She whimpered as she tasted herself on him.
Sweet and salty… her taste and scent mingling with his own.
"Fuck." His hips bucked into her again as pleasure at her boldness slammed
through him.
She whimpered again and released his finger before pulling the other into her
mouth. Her teeth nipped at the pad of his finger, sharp and insistent as she
lapped her own juices from that heavenly instrument.
Edward groaned as another wave of lust stabbed through him, holding him in
thrall to her all over again. "Touch me." His words were less commanding now.
They wavered on the edge of a plea and she knew he was caught.
Soon enough, he would wrest control back - command her again - but for now,
he gave it up to her willingly, as desperate as she.
Her hand slid down his neck, heavy and faintly aching from the position in which
she had held it for so long. It slipped between their pressing bodies, dancing
lightly along his erection through the fabric of his jeans.
He groaned again, his fingers digging lightly into her hip.
Her fingers danced along the line of his erection again and closed over the pull to
his zipper.
"Yes," he hissed, urging her on when her fingers stilled, taunting and teasing him
as only she would ever do.
She inched the zipper down slowly, knowing there was no turning back now if
there ever had been. She wanted this, wanted him like this. That never changed.
His breath rasped in her ear. Her hand slid inside, parting the opening of his
boxers with ease.
"You want me," she told him, reveling in what this knowledge did to her. It
empowered her, inflamed her further.
"Yes," he hissed again.
Her lips curved upward in satisfaction as he gave her the word that always made
her heart swell.
Her fingers closed around his length, releasing him from the restricting confines
of his jeans.
His head fell back, his eyes rolling as her hand moved along him, squeezing.
Strobe lights pulsed against his closed lids, flashing light and sensation in
distorted, shaded patterns across his beautiful face.
She pumped and stroked expertly, driving him into the same frenzy of need he
had driven her into with each thrust of his fingers inside of her.
"Beautiful," he groaned and reached between them to still her hand when he
could take no more of her wanton torment.
"Fuck me, Edward," she whispered, turning her head to run her own teeth along
his earlobe as he had so recently done to her.
His eyes met hers, triumph blazing in those vivid green depths at her words.
"Here?" he asked, turning her to face him. "Now?"
She nodded, the ability to speak lost to her as she stared into those blazing eyes.
They stripped her bare, leaving her a bundle of nerveless, senseless expectation.
A wicked smile curved at his lips as his eyes bored into hers. Another jolt of
pleasure shot through her.
"Wrap your leg around me, beautiful," he crooned, sliding his hand from her hip
and lifting her thigh carefully.
Her leg wrapped around him, her hands fisting into his shirt at his shoulders.
"Oh God," she hissed as his cock pressed against her through her skirt.
Edward groaned and steadied her against him with a hand on her ass. "Look at
me, beautiful," he commanded as her eyes fell closed. Her skirt bunched in his
fist and was dragged up, exposing her center to him and only to him. "Open your
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