Read Online Dark Enchantment by Janine Ashbless - Free Book Online

under her on a bed so narrow there was only room for one. He was still hard. He hadn’t come. He sat her astride him, impaling her anew on his length, and he put one hand on her breastbone to push her up into a sitting position. She wanted to curse him then, and tears burned in her eyes. He couldn’t be ravishing her if she was on top, could he? She looked down on his broad chest, glazed with sweat. She tried to get off him but he grabbed her hips and rammed her down on his cock, deep enough that she saw stars.
    ‘Bastard!’ she hissed, sinking her nails into his skin.
    He bared his teeth. ‘Still not good enough for you?’
    He licked his thumb and pushed it between them, where his body joined with hers. He need not have bothered with the extra lubrication; the junction was steaming hot and as slippery as an oil bath. She groaned and twisted on his thumb as he found her pearl and began to rub it. She forgot she was being forced. His hips moved beneath her. His cock stirred her within. She arched her back and pressed against him and opened to that brazen length. He reached beneath her damp chemise to stroke her breasts as he made her come for a second time.
    Only when she was wrung out did the Chief Engineer take his own reward. He was not delicate about it. He rolled her off him and manhandled her into position on the bed, on hands and knees, with an urgency in his movements that – despite all his forcefulness – had been lacking before. He knelt up behind her to plough the narrow furrow of her sex. She pressed her hot face to the blanket and let him have his way, his hands tight on her hips, his thighs pummelling hers, his scrotum slapping her puffy lips. His thick cock pistoned in and out and she thought of the movements of mighty steam engines, the slickness of oiled steel, the burning phlogiston fire. His movements quickened and she thought, He’s going to come now. And despite everything somehow she welcomed the thought.
    ‘Bloody hell, yes,’ he said.
    Then he pulled out and took himself in hand and with a grunt sprayed dollops of spunk on her splayed cheeks, one on the small of her back, one that slopped on the crack of her arse and dribbled down to her anus. Heaving for breath, he put his hand on her bottom and massaged his jism into the pucker of that hole. Charlotte, incredulous, felt the iris soften and yield. With a push he popped the first joint of his oil-stained thumb into her most intimate orifice, and she felt her legs give way. It wasn’t an orgasm. Could an orgasm begin at the back entrance and flare up the spine like that? It flashed through her limbs like lightning and she collapsed upon the bed, tissues pulsing, head spinning.
    He followed her down, covering her body with his. He wasn’t heavy any more. He ran his hand down her side and pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder.
    They were still lying there panting when the klaxon began to blare.
    Two months later the war was over. The homeland had held on for long enough. Their colonial allies had came through.
    The official victory celebration was held in the Royal Hippodrome, though it spilled out into all the streets and taverns of Victoria City. In the gilt and plush interior the various military and auxiliary companies were paraded and presented before His Imperial Majesty so that all they had done might be publicly acknowledged. Each combatant received the newly struck Cross of Victory. Several members of the Volunteer Air Corps were awarded the Imperial Star – though none of those honours went to the Ornithopter Brigade, who had after all been
paid
to risk their lives daily.
    Charlotte joined her brigade for the fly-past and display, then the presentation of the medals. The engineers in a fit of solidarity wore their brown overalls instead of their Sunday suits for the presentation; the pilots wore their flying kit.
    After the rest of the ceremony, which they watched from their reserved box, surrounded by gilded plaster cherubs