Calla

BY : gentleferocity
Category: Beyblade > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 892
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade/Bakuten Shuuto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Beyblade/Bakuten Shuuto and its respective characters are (c) to Takao Aoki. Taissa Ivanov (c) R. L. Kinghorn.

Tongues toying, undivided in their attention, the two made their way back into the sitting room, mostly blind, with Bryan guiding Taissa backward through the doorway. The sound of the plasma screen and the programme which Bryan had previously tried to distract himself with lay drowned beneath quick breaths and the frenetic racing of his pulse.

 

    Taissa connected with the arm of the two-seater and she fell back onto the seat cushions, taking Kuznetsov with her. They slumped, he atop she, with their body now free from gravity they smothered one another unashamedly. Slender legs parted around his hips, the light fabric of her skirt inched higher then it could afford.

 

    Bryan pressed himself against her just as aggressively as he had in the corridor, his toes clawing at the leather as he indulged himself on the heat nestled high between her thighs. He groaned as her most intimate warmth washed through the tent between his legs to scald the flesh underneath, his thrust stopped from penetration solely by a veil of grey polyester. The candied scent of her caused the finest hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

 

    He threw her bodice open, fully exposing her torso to the mellow lights and canted his head to better view her. Small pale breasts jounced upon her ribcage with every breath wracked with carnal excitement, and when she arched her spine they upraised to gently press against his chest. A sight to behold she was, Bryan mused, cupping them none too mercifully in each hand and squeezing. He watched as the already white flesh blanched further from the force.

 

    “I’m going to destroy you,” he uttered in a gravelly whisper, turning his lips to her exposed ear. He snaked his tongue over the sterling ring in her cartilage and felt her shiver beneath him. “Y’hear me? Destroy you.”

 

    Taissa said nothing. She blushed at his flagrancy, funnily, given her obvious wanton and craned her neck to catch his smirk in her lips. One collection of fingers tangled themselves into the lavender tresses of his hair whilst the others drifted across his sculpted ivory shoulders. She hoisted her pelvis, thrusting into him gently, authorising him to do with her as he desired though stayed quiet, meek.

 

    Releasing her breasts, Bryan ran his clammy palms down to her hips, feeling her writhe with urgency in his hands. Fuck. He tugged the sheer peach material up around her waist and watched her inarticulately awaiting domination. But her silent compliance wasn’t good enough for Kuznetsov, no. He was still set on her begging. He lifted himself off her just enough to slip a hand down between their bodies and pressed his fingertips to the crotch of her underwear.

 

    Or rather, that was his intention. Instead his fingers came into contact with wet, dripping skin, her glistering sex bare to his touch, hairless and baby soft. She was full of fucking surprises, Bryan mused. He could hardly conceal his elation, the familiar smirk haunting his lips creeping ever higher.

 

    An emotion torn between abashment and thrill crossed her eyes for a moment before Taissa turned away from him, letting her head loll to one side. The soft red waves of her hair fell across her equally-red cheekbone, masking her eyes from him but not her quivering lips. He inserted the very tip of his middle finger and tightened his jaw when the soft muscular walls of her vagina drew snugly around it. Seemed Hiwatari had taught her a thing or two. He withdrew and slid it slowly, teasingly so, back inside. The Ukrainian mewled much to Bryan’s delight and felt her fur-clad heels grind languorously against the back of his thighs.

 

    “Beg,” he instructed.

 

    Ivanov must have seen the breadth he was holding back on when she looked to him; the vehement fire of wild arousal behind silver eyes. He withdrew his finger again and she fluttered her sex like the wingbeats of a moth. Bryan grumbled, causing Taissa to crack the faintest smile of triumph. ‘Che...! He shifted his hand and slid his moistened digit up passed the elaborate petals of her vagina to the cloistered nubbin nestled at its crown. He flicked it in the same torturous manner he had her nipples, but garnered a far more vivid response. With a vocal pant she jerked against him and clenched her teeth and hissed.

 

    “K-Kuznetsov...”

 

    “No,” he warned. “Properly.” 

 

    Bearing his thumb against her clitoris he started to move, quick, circular motions that caused her voice to crack like glass in seconds. Velvety skin spasmed against his scarred knuckles as if hit by lightning. It took considerable effort to swallow back the hefty sigh that rose strong in his throat. Her beauty broke on him like some exotic floret. He was dangerously close to just mounting her but fortunately moments like this were rare and few between and if Kuznetsov was anything, it was strictly disciplined. Training and general monotonous shit occupied all of his time. Sex, when it rarely rolled around, was something he preferred to savour. He wouldn’t give into base needs so easily. A little longer.

 

    “Beg. Beg me for it.”

 

    Taissa’s surrender came without a pause, spine-tingling and musical to his ears. She kissed his forehead with hot, lingering lips, her breath serrated and shallow. “Trakhni menya.”

 

    Fuck me, she had requested. Bryan bestowed a sole kiss to her windpipe and pulled up into a kneel between her legs. “Get on all fours.”

 

    Taissa abided, swinging her right foot across Bryan’s chest and turning over onto her stomach. She braced herself up as instructed, manicured hands clutching the thick leather arm of the sofa, and upraised her backside. He took a moment to admire the fresh outlook she provided him, tracing his eye over the dusky flesh of her vulva smeared with the pearly fluid of her arousal. The intricate folds convulsed expectantly. The light caught the moisture, shimmering like silk. She looked tight and inviting. Bryan’s gluttonous eye wandered higher as he smoothed a hand over the right cheek of her backside, parting the ample globes with a thumb.

 

    He felt Taissa flinch and she glanced back, worry etched on her features. Bryan didn’t raise his gaze to meet hers, his affixed to the taut rosebud of her anus. The erection he concealed twitched.

 

    “You’ve got the sweetest ass, y’know.”

 

    Another time maybe.

 

    She turned back, placing her head down into the arm and grumbled something he didn’t quite discern. He imagined his comment had induced a vibrant wash of colour to flood her face. How cute.

 

    Keeping his grip on her rear with one hand, the Russian plucked loose the drawstring of his pants with the other. The molten need alive in his gut was held at bay. Bryan savoured each moment best he could, given the likelihood of this being a repeat occurrence after all was little to never. He was going to enjoy this.

 

    Taissa gasped into the leather as his freed phallus sprang forth and slapped against the dripping valley of her sex. He felt the sting of her body’s heat and shuddered. Like sweet fire. Instinctively she pushed herself back to claim him but Bryan snatched himself up in hand. Playfully he clicked his tongue, holding her off by the rear.

 

    “Don’t tease me,” Taissa murmured, rubbing her thighs together as they itched with delayed urgency.

 

    The motion caused her backside to rock enticingly from side to side. Absentmindedly he stroked his hand up and down his length, watching, listening.

 

    “Give it to me. Give it to me Kuznetsov. Show me how much I make your blood boil.”

 

    “Say please,” he smirked, satisfied with the assertive tone his voice bore. He shifted his hips forward and snaked the soft underside of his erection between the cushions of her outer labia, bathing himself, lubricating in preparation for the ride he was about to take her on.

 

    She reached a hand back and touched his hard abdomen with shaking fingers. “Please.”

 

    Bryan shoved her hand away and she splayed her thighs wider to better accommodate him. His hand wrapped the back of her neck through her hair like a band of iron and pushed her face down into the arm. With a thrust of his groin, Bryan embedded himself inside of her. Even though she was wet and susceptive, she was incredibly narrow. His glands brushed the neck of her cervix before he extracted, pulling from her almost his entire length, and then hammered back. There was no easing in, now mollycoddling. He kept his pace fast and changeless, stringent as ever, smirking victoriously down onto the back of her skull, listening to her winded gasps as they became sobs of pleasure.

 

    Indeed, this did suffice over beating the fuck out of her.

 

    “Tak!” She choked, the sole Ukranian word Bryan understood came broken and delirious.

 

    Hearing her rapture-laced pleas sent wave after wave of intoxicating pleasure over him. She surrendered beneath him, her intimate juices coating his thick shaft, making each thrust smoother. “Yes, yes! Come on—show me what you can do.”

 

    The cloth over his puckering scrotum brushed the back of her thighs, his stomach connecting against her upturned backside, with each stroke. Her muscles milked him every time he drew back, as if resolved to keep him implanted within her. The sensation it caused was indescribable. Yes, Kai had taught her very well. And now he was stealing that, indulging in it for himself. He used her for his pleasure, for the most part ignorant to hers, forcing her lithe form back and forth on his cock, fingers sweaty on her skin, Bryan watched her backside ripple.

 

    She pressed her face hard into the sofa. Still held in place by his unrelenting grasp, she rocked with his merciless abandon, impaled and writhing. All she could do was stifle her screams, wailing inchoately for his hands, to be touched.

 

    Out of spite for her earlier behaviour, or because he quite simply liked to witnes her lost to such despair, Bryan didn’t abide to her requests. She pushed back against his assault, meeting each thrust with one of her own.

 

    His hand trekked higher into her hair and grabbed a handful from the crown. He pulled her face up and the air filled with her coital shrieking.

 

    “Sing for me, you little shlyukha. Fuck harder! Faster, you hear me?”

 

    Bryan’s breathing laboured, his momentum becoming unapologetically furious as his climax gained on him far faster than he could stop it. It gained on him, throwing him toward his insatiable release. Taissa could feel it, he knew, his hardness swelling inside her body, set to erupt. Bryan felt her tense up, though if she were in the mindset to protest it appeared her lust had rendered her tempoaraily mute. No words of coherent language came, just the selfsame hard breathing and animalistic gasps.

 

With a grunt and a profanity Kuznetsov came hard, prick palpitating against her burning velvet walls like a sledgehammer. He didn’t care to withdraw, filling her raw cavity with each jet. Holy fuck, he'd needed that, more then he had realised. Still hard he pulled himself from her and abruptly released her. She slumped, almost lifeless, on to the sofa with a hefty a slap, unable to locate a mote of strength within herself.

 

    Bryan rocked back on his heels and sprawled himself out at the opposite end of the two-seater. His ire and otherwise ill mood had completely passed him, the vehemence it had stirred spent elsewhere. Elsewhere being a hot little redhead's pussy, he mused, watching the thick, translucent fluid he had pumped deep within her emerge and ooze its lethargic way from her reddened sex to the leather cushion beneath her.

 

    His smirk twitched. “Still fucking up my furniture.”



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