Courts and Cabals 2 by G.S. D'Moore (best novel books to read .txt) 📕

“Yes, Cameron, yes!” she screamed in sheer ecstasy. Her mouth had gone a little slack, and her eyes were slightly rolled into the back of her head.

I felt her walls tighten around me in her first orgasm, but I didn’t let up. The pressure inside me continued to build. She adjusted her legs mid-thrust; positioning her feet behind her own head in a display of flexibility that only drove me forward harder. My cock felt so huge, and the pressure built so much, I could swear I saw the outline of my tip poking up out of her abdomen as I stabbed into her with abandon.

“Aah . . .” it was her turn to moan nonsensically as I felt my own orgasm building.

All the fire and lightning rampaging through me was heading south, and it was going to burst forth in an explosion that would make Hiroshima look like a sparkler.

“I’m . . .” I could barely form words as I felt it begin.

Suddenly, Venus’s eyes snapped open, and she looked deep into my soul. “Cum inside me, Cameron. Give it all too me,” she commanded.

“Ah!” I didn’t even respond, just gave three final thrusts and busted a nut of epic proportions deep inside her.

“Yes!” she roared, a cross between human ecstasy and some long extinct creature of the Jurassic period.

“Ugh . . . fuck,” I grunted as my balls continued to constrict and dump seed into her.

Her legs flew from behind her own head to trap me and pull me closer. All the fire and lightning had exploded out of me and into her. I felt very-human weakness seeping into my body. My legs shook uncontrollably from where they were spread out behind me, and with my final thrust, the table had enough. Its back legs collapsed and we went tumbling onto the ground. She kept me held tight, milking every last drop out of me.

When I was spent, she didn’t let up. My flaccid cock remained inside her as she breathed heavily and muttered something under her breath. I didn’t have the strength to move, much less pull out.

“Good boy, Cameron,” she stroked my hair. “You don’t disappoint.”

“Yeah,” I managed a weak smile. This was without a doubt the best sex I’d had, or would ever have. That was a sad thought.

“Don’t worry,” she read my body more than my thoughts. “You will not remember this. You will remember a home-cooked meal and stirring conversation. Nothing more,” she continued to stroke my hair, but now she started applying pressure to specific places, and pushing power into them.

“Wha . . .” my vision started to narrow, and darkness pressed in all around me.

“Sleep now, sweet prince,” she kissed me on the forehead, and I faded away.

Chapter 11

Aveena exhaled as she rolled her eyes in the elevator’s mirror. “Everything in this fucking town has mirrors,” she whispered to herself.

She found everything in Las Vegas to be an experiment in venality. Every man needed to have a chiseled jaw, sculpted physique, and perfectly coiffed hair. And the women . . . she felt sorry for the mortals that had to strut around this town on six-inch heels, in a size zero, a miniskirt with no maneuverability, perky tits, and a smile. None of it was real.

She could feel the toll it had taken on the natives. The same thing happened when you smiled for so long that your jaw ached. The entire town felt like that; a forced smile for everyone from the uber rich to the midwestern couples here to see Celine. Everything was an act to keep the blood of the city flowing: money.

She had to admit, they were damn good at it, and it played into her mission. She needed people that could only operate in Sin City without drawing a second look.

The person that stared back at her from the mirror wasn’t the Aveena Foxbelle on her UN ID. The woman in the mirror – and it was a woman, not a girl – was slender and half a foot taller than Aveena. Her strawberry blonde hair came down to her shoulders in curls, and her face was cute as a button; not the high cheekbones and regal nose of the Fae that attended St. Vincent’s Academy. She was wearing a little black cocktail dress, but none of her assets were as pronounced as before. It was always easier to reallocate mass than create it from nothing. The only thing that hadn’t changed were her eyes. Stone, cold gray stared back at her just before the doors slid open.

A fit man in casual attire sat in the small lounge with a magazine in his hand. It allowed him to look at the elevator without really looking at it. Most people would miss the clear earpiece in his ear, but she didn’t. She nodded to him, but he was too professional to acknowledge the gesture. That was a good thing. She didn’t want anyone unprofessional at this critical juncture.

She’d chosen the Flamingo as the HQ for this operation, and had the resources to rent out several rooms for privacy; as well as the rooms surrounding them as a security buffer. The hotel thought they were hosting a bunch of suits here for a conference. A dozen men had shown up in suits, but they weren’t accountants. They’d also shown up with cases designed to defeat metal detectors, and the other systems the casinos had put in place to discourage people from carrying firearms in the hotels.  Those systems were enough to stop the occasional nutjob with a hunting rifle, but it didn’t stop people whose job it was to defeat those types of precautions.

Aveena strutted down the hall to her room and knocked. The spyhole in the door darkened for a moment before it opened. “Ma’am,”