49. The Right Kind of Trouble
49
THE RIGHT KIND OF TROUBLE
ODETTE
C lothes flew as we undressed in Wyatt’s room. My body wanted him to fuck me now . I didn’t imagine I’d arrive, and we’d immediately get down to business, but it felt right. I pulled off my clothes, then my bra, and was about to throw my knickers to the side when Wyatt stopped me.
“Leave the panties on for now.”
I cocked my head.
“I just really like them,” he said. “And I’d like to have some fun first.”
“Oh… okay,” I said.
Glad to have worn one of my nice lingerie sets, I tucked into bed as he locked the door. Wyatt climbed next to me, pulling me over in one strong motion until there was no space left between us. He pressed me back against the bed. I stared up at him, a little nervous but mostly happy. I debated telling him the truth but decided against it. I didn’t owe him an explanation.
Wyatt kissed my neck, then pulled back. “You are so fucking beautiful right now.”
I blushed.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want to find out if you taste as good as you look,” Wyatt said.
I had no idea what that meant. He kissed down from my collarbone to my knickers. There, he hovered, taking me in. Over my knickers, he used his thumb to play with my engorged clit. My centre buzzed with anticipation. I wanted him inside me now . I pressed my hips up, offering my knickers to him obediently.
“You’re very well-behaved, Odette. And oh so patient.”
“I’m impatient right now,” I said, unsure what spirit possessed me.
“You’re soaking through these panties.”
“I know,” I said, out of breath. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”
“Well, since you begged…” He removed my knickers, tossing them off the bed.
I expected him to push his body between my legs and enter me. Instead, he parted my legs slightly and slung them over his shoulders as he kissed a part of me no man had ever touched like this before. Wyatt’s touch—gentle at first—devolved into licking—then sucking. And then, his fingers slowly slid into my pussy, creating that pressure I’d craved on the bed at the Queen’s chateau.
I moaned, unable to keep my voice low. The more he worshipped my body, the more a fire burned within me for more. I lapped up his praise and adoration as if it would slip through my fingers any moment. I gripped the rustic wood headboard with one hand and his hair with the other. As I grew closer and closer to the point of sweet inevitability, he stopped and looked up at me.
“What?” I panted, confused.
“Is that good?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes,” I said, playfully pushing his head back down. “Don’t stop now.”
He bit my inner right thigh and then continued on his quest to get me off. He was so wonderfully giving. With every stroke of his tongue and thrust of his fingers, Wyatt brought me closer to climax. But by the time I was cumming, crying out to a God I didn’t know, I felt ascendance. We hadn’t even begun, but the foreplay was next-level fun.
Wyatt looked up again, watching me come down from my orgasm. His eyes showed satisfaction with a bit of curiosity. The intensity of his gaze should have unsettled me, but I loved it. I adored how much he wanted to focus on me . Everything he did, he wanted me enthusiastically on board with.
“Was I good?” I asked.
“You were good, too demanding, and overwhelmingly sweet.”
I bit my lip.
“You’re delicious. Even more than you look. I could do more?—”
“No, I want…”
Do I say it? I worried it might make me dirty or desperate to use the word, but Wyatt’s face suggested he wanted me to be dirty and desperate for him.
“I want you to fuck me, Wyatt. I can’t handle it anymore.”
“ I can handle that,” Wyatt said.
He crept back up, giving me a swoony, long kiss, before crawling over to the bedside table to get a condom. He handed me the gold sachet and tossed his boxers off. Then, he took it back. I let him manage the rest and watched in both admiration and agony as he rolled the condom over the head of his cock and down his shaft.
“What, you look surprised,” Wyatt said. “Are you okay?”
“You’re circumcised, right?” I asked.
“Ah, that,” Wyatt said. “Yes. Is that… okay?”
“It’s your body. That’s fine,” I said. “You’re lovely. It’s just… I have never seen one before… a….”
“Cock? You can use the word Odette. It’s okay for you to say whatever you’d like in bed. I like the idea of corrupting you a bit.”
“Fuck!” I thought to myself. Except I didn’t. I said the word out loud.
Wyatt laughed and pulled me by my hips and parted my legs with his torso. He pressed the tip of his cock to my centre. My wetness made it slide in a way that left me shivering. I moaned.
“I intend to fuck you, yes,” Wyatt said. “Is that what you want?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” Wyatt said, voice hungry.
He pressed against my opening, sliding just inside. My body fought with him a bit. I tried not to wince but knew I couldn’t cover it up.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, meaning it. “It will be worth it. ”
A moment later, pressure and pain turned into pleasure. Wyatt pressed deep within me. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, digging my nails into his back. He kissed my neck and bit my ear as I fell back into the heavenly, perfect place he’d taken me earlier. This time, though, the fullness within me only enhanced the feeling.
“Your pussy is so tight and wet, Odette. Fuck, this feels good,” he whispered.
Knowing I wasn’t a total disappointment, I moaned in French, “You feel so good, too.”
I had nothing to compare this to. It was novel, all-encompassing, and electrifying. All I knew was that his cock was doing everything for me and to me right now. I couldn’t speak English—I could barely say anything at all!
“I’m not going to last long like this,” Wyatt said. “Get on top. I want to watch. I’d like to see my cock make you come undone at the seams.”
He rolled onto his back. I hesitated a moment, afraid it might not work. Then, my body took over once more. Anything my brain couldn’t compute, my body somehow knew. I climbed astride him and slowly lowered myself onto his full length, kneading his chest for stability. The novelty of his chest hair and strong pecks aroused me more than I wanted to admit. I realised the little things about Wyatt—the unexpected things—that ground my gears the most. From the curl in his lips when he thought about solving a problem to how his eyes always filtered to mine, the little things made me melt the most.
“Wyatt, don’t let me stop,” I growled, still in French.
Nothing to date had been better than this position. It was as if his cock hit the best spot within me. I’d only been there a few moments before I was ready to cum. I wrapped my pussy tight around him, moving up and down his length. I ground against his pelvis with every stroke, racing closer and closer.
Then, I screamed, “Oh, Wyatt. Oh, merde !”
He smiled broadly as I came back down, pulling me into a kiss as I bent forward, grinding my pussy against his pelvis and almost playfully rolling my hips around.
“You’re amazing when you cum,” Wyatt said. “Always say my name. ”
“My English is… failing…” I panted.
Wyatt unexpectedly flipped me onto my back, pulling my ankles up to his shoulders. “It just means I’m doing my job, Princess.”
Every time he did that—dropped something that made me feel like the object of his desire—I should have wanted to stop him. Instead, it made me feel like a naughty girl. And, at this moment, I wanted to be depraved. What came over me, I didn’t know. As I watched him pound into me, holding onto my legs for stability, I marvelled at how gorgeous he looked and how wonderful this made me feel. He wanted to possess me, and I wanted to be his more than ever. I panted and bit my lip, trying to cum again.
Wyatt slowed for a moment so he could play with my clit with one hand. It felt wonderful. I knew he was delaying his own orgasm so I could cum again. It was a meaningful gesture, one that made me even more horny.
“ Baise-moi plus fort ,” I moaned. “ Et fond !”
He thrust harder—again and again—until my body writhed once more in sheer pleasure. Then he fell forward, letting my legs fall like jelly to either side of his hips. He kissed my neck and nibbled at my ear again lovingly. Wyatt stroked my face, saying nothing as he caught his breath. Somehow, just the look said everything it needed to. I thrilled him.
“I have no idea what the fuck you said. But it worked?”
I giggled. “It worked. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. That was amazing, Odette. Better than I could have imagined.”
“I wasn’t… bad?”
He kissed my neck. “You were… fucking perfect.”