Daphne
The loud, crashing sound jolted Daphne out of her deep sleep and sent her springing out of bed. Within moments of waking up, her heart pounded so hard that she thought it might just burst through her ribs. She ran to the window, made sure it was locked, and looked out.
Nothing.
Gotta get Xander, she thought, fear running through her body.
Was this it? she wondered. Was that biker asshole finally making his move?
Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she saw that she was wearing nothing but her skimpy bra and panties, but she knew she didn’t have time to cover up. She pulled open her bedroom door and rushed out into the hallway. Sweet relief washed over her when she saw that Xander was already up, a baseball bat in his hand.
“What the hell was that?” she asked, her eyes wide and panic in her voice.
“No fuckin’ idea, but it sure as shit didn’t sound good.”
Xander rushed to the window and looked out. Daphne watched him eagerly, her hand over her mouth. And despite the circumstance, she couldn’t help but notice that, like her, he was wearing nothing but his underwear; a skin-tight pair of boxer-briefs was the only stitch of clothing on his body. His bare torso was bathed in the ghostly moonlight that poured in through the window.
Goddamn, she couldn’t help but think. He’s gotten so fucking … big.
She scolded herself right away, realizing that this was absolutely not the time for thoughts like thi—especially not with Xander.
“Stay right here,” said Xander, holding out his palm. “I’m gonna check the roof. Stay right where you’re standing, and don’t go near any windows.”
“Okay,” Daphne said in a meek voice as Xander rushed out of the apartment and up the nearby ladder.
She waited in place, her heart still beating. Fear coursed through her veins, and she began imagining nightmare scenarios of the biker waiting for Xander up on the roof, ready to quickly kill him in an ambush before coming down to finish the job, or distracting Xander on the roof while the biker snuck in through the fire escape.
Just calm down, Daphne told herself. Just chill the fuck out; Xander’s here, and he’s going to make sure that nothing happens.
The thought calmed her. She realized that, normally, talking herself out of being anxious was a pointless thing to try. But now, knowing Xander was here to make sure she was safe, it actually seemed to work.
Daphne’s eyes stayed fixed on the door, and after a few more minutes, Xander returned. He walked into the room at a slower pace than he’d left it, and more relief washed over Daphne; she realized that this meant the news was good.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I saw down in the alley some big pane of glass that’d been leaning against the side of the building fell over and smashed. The sound just echoed up the alleyway and sounded worse than it was.”
He set the baseball bat on the table and ran his hand through his long hair. Daphne watched Xander’s chest rise and fall, her eyes scanning every bit of his bare torso, from the fearsome tattoos that covered his skin to the keen definition of his muscles. Between those features and his long hair and beard, he seemed almost larger-than-life to Daphne, as though he were some kind of warrior from another time.
A warrior wearing jockeys, she thought, letting a grin form on her face.
Xander’s breath slowed. He strode over to Daphne and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked. “This is some scary shit, but there’s nothing to be worried about. I’m here, false alarm or not.”
And as he spoke, Daphne couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, eyes that were a striking blue even in the dark. Something about Xander’s presence, something about his strong, rough hands on her shoulders, just made her feel calm, safe, and secure. She knew she should’ve been fearful of a man like Xander, knowing that the hands on her bare shoulders were hands that had likely taken lives. But instead, all she could feel was a sense of reassurance, as though everything was going to be all right.
Then, without thinking, she moved closer to him, so close that her cleavage pressed against the hard, warm muscle of his chest. They stood like that for a moment, Daphne taking in the feeling of his body against hers.
But Xander wasn’t content to just stand there. Placing his hands back on Daphne’s shoulders, he pushed her away, stared at her for a brief moment with a hard glare of animal intensity, then kissed her. The feeling of Xander’s lips on hers was just what Daphne wanted at that moment. She needed him, needing his lips on hers, his hands on her body, his warmth on her skin. She fell into the kiss instantly, her hands now pressed against her back and moving over every square inch of the wide span of his shoulders. And Xander was just as eager to get his hands all over Daphne’s body. He took off her bra instantly and took her breasts into his hands as their tongues intertwined with one another’s.
Xander’s hands then moved to Daphne’s ass, and after giving the ripe flesh a hard squeeze, he lifted her into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist as he did. They continued to kiss as Xander held her effortlessly. A rush of excitement ran through Daphne’s body as she felt Xander’s cock harden through his shorts, and all she could think about was having that massive prick buried deep inside of her. She didn’t want foreplay, she didn’t want lovemaking, and she didn’t want tenderness—she wanted to be fucked by this beast of a man who held her in his arms; she wanted to be ravaged and taken like she belonged to him.
Xander must’ve been of the same mind as Daphne, as his next move was to carry her over to the kitchen table, clear everything off of it with a sweep of his arm, and lay her down on her back in front of him. Daphne looked up at the man now looming like a giant, the outline of his marble-carved body silver from the light of the moon. He leaned forward, placing his hands on her breasts as Daphne’s chest rose and fell. He rubbed her nipples forcefully but not clumsily, and the crackle of pleasure from each point rushed through her body.
Daphne’s eyes were glued onto the bulge in Xander’s shorts, and as soon as he noticed where her gaze was fixed, a little smirk formed on his lips. Slipping his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, he pulled them off with a quick yank, his thick, long cock springing out and pointing right at Daphne’s pussy. Then, before Daphne had too much time to appreciate the view, Xander reached forward and repeated the process with her underwear, grabbing them hard and pulling them down her smooth, curvy legs.
Now, they were both nude. Xander clapped his hands down onto Daphne’s hips as she writhed in pleasure at his touch, and he pulled her close, his cock now mere inches away from her sex. He moved his hands along her legs again, and took hold of her by the ankles. A moan already slipped from Daphne’s mouth; she realized that she was about as aroused as she’d ever been in her life. Then, removing his right hand from her ankle, Xander grabbed onto the shaft of his prick and, with a swift, plunging motion, shoved it deep inside of her.
Daphne was a little surprised at just how wet and ready she was, but her curiosity was quickly replaced by intense, nearly overwhelming pleasure. Just as before, the sensation of being filled by Xander’s massive cock was so intense that she could hardly stand it, and she was glad to be lying down; she knew that if she were standing her legs might’ve just buckled under her from the sheer intensity. Xander held hard onto her ankles, spreading her legs apart as he began driving into her over and over. The view for Daphne was sublime—she watched as the tight, thick muscles of Xander’s torso flexed and released with each pump, and she had a perfect view of his member entering and exiting her over and over.
The pleasure taking hold of her, Daphne spread her arms and grabbed onto the sides of the tables, holding herself in place as though the ecstasy running through her body might send her flying. But Xander’s grip was firm, and she stayed right where she wanted to be.
Xander’s hands moved down Daphne’s legs, the feeling of his touch against her skin beyond compare. Then, he clasped hard onto the soft, curved flesh of her hips and pulled her even closer, leaning forward in order to have a deeper angle from which to pleasure her. From this new position, he drove into her without mercy, penetrating her, burying himself to the hilt inside of her pussy. He was like a machine, his thrusts deep and relentless.
Soon, Daphne knew that she was about to cum. She screamed and moaned, feeling as though she’d been possessed by some kind of spirit entering her through Xander’s cock. It was as though she had no control over her own body—and she loved it.
The steady rhythm of Xander’s penetration did exactly what Daphne needed it to do, and soon, a powerful orgasm tore through her body, the pleasure so intense that she felt she might come apart at the seams. Xander’s own orgasm followed, and, as always, she savored the sweet sensation of his cock exploding inside of her, each drop of his manhood spilling deep into her pussy.
Once they’d both cum, the pounding slowed until it stopped. They caught their breath, and Xander slid his rod out of Daphne, and she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed; part of her wanted that cock to be buried in her until the end of time.
Xander stepped back and collapsed on the couch, still catching his breath. Then, Daphne heaved herself off of the table and onto her feet.
“Thanks for the lookout,” she said with a sly smile, “but I really do need to get to bed.”
She walked off with seductive strides, flashing one last playful look over her shoulder before stepping into her bedroom and shutting the door. The last she saw of Xander that night was him shaking his head, a knowing smirk on his face.
Once she was under the sheets, Daphne slept better that night than she could remember sleeping in years.