Chapter 50
Anton
Isuck on her clit, and I drive my tongue deep inside her, and a groan escapes me, because this is the fucking life. The mesmerising blonde goddess who’s hijacked my brain and taken my sanity for a ride is fucking my face, and she tastes like heaven.
And when I’ve finished feasting on her, my favourite ice queen will be a melting, writhing mess who’s desperate for my cock.
I could sense her self-consciousness about doing this, but that has to stop, because I have no qualms about wanting this, and nor should she.
I’m not aiming for finesse in this moment.
I’ll tease her later. I’m aiming for total annihilation, for making every single erogenous zone in her beautiful body sing.
So I pull out all the stops. I use my lips and my tongue to suck and lick and fuck.
I swirl and I flick and I probe. And I know my moves are having the desired effect when she starts sinking down more heavily onto me.
Not just sinking.
Grinding.
She’s working her hips as if she really is fucking me, rubbing that drenched pussy all over my chin so she can get as much friction as she can from my stubble.
Greedy girl.
She’s taking what she wants, and I fucking love it.
My dick is a fucking telegraph pole, pointing straight up at my ceiling as I plunder her cunt with my mouth. As soon as she comes I’m going to ram her down on it so hard she’ll see even more stars.
It’s clear she isn’t a flight risk right now, so I release my grip on her hips and work my hands up to find her tits.
Fuck me, they are glorious. She’s holding onto the headboard, and she’s so far gone she’s actually resting her forehead against it now as she stares down at me, blue eyes glazed and that normally impassive face showing every ounce of her arousal.
She’s working those hips so hard that her tits are jiggling, hanging pendulously, nipples hard and swollen.
I close my palms around them, and Holy Mother of God.
Utter, utter perfection. She gasps loudly as I knead and squeeze and massage before I find her nipples and pinch them.
Pull them. They’re magnificent, and they’re so sensitive, and she is extraordinary.
‘God, Anton,’ she whimpers, rubbing her forehead against the padded linen of my headboard, her hips grinding harder.
She’s close. She’s so close. Her thighs are trembling on either side of my face, and her cries are regular now, rhythmical, coming in time with her thrusts and my licks.
I pinch her nipples hard. I lave as roughly as I can on her clit, and I growl with the fucking assault on my senses.
She’s soaking; she’s fucking dripping, and her smell is so musky, so intoxicating that I could die like this.
I give her one particularly angry lick, and she breaks. She breaks as beautifully as I could ever have wished for, and I stare up at her and watch in wonder as she shudders and cries and jerks her way through what I know is a powerful orgasm.
Before I’ve even finished licking, she’s pulling away and manoeuvring herself down my body.
She straddles my hips and wraps her fingers tight around my aching cock, and then she’s lowering down.
Impaling herself on it with more speed and force than even I would have used, so desperate is she for me to fill her up.
There’s no ice queen now. She’s fucking ravishing like this. Her beautiful hair is mussed, her mask has gone, and in its place is raw desire. I’ve unveiled the carnal creature beneath the flawless surface, and I can’t get enough.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, because she is all over my face, and I cross my arms behind my head.
Then I thrust up and into her. My cock is angry at having been made to wait so long, but the sensation of being engulfed in her heat, squeezed by her still-quivering inner muscles, is fucking perfection.
Besides, this is one hell of a show. Because she rides me even more aggressively than she rode my face, pulling herself up each time and slamming down until I bottom out in her, taking every single inch I have to give her, those magnificent tits bouncing as she does.
‘Come here,’ I say, and she leans forward. I wrap a hand tightly around the back of her neck and pull her forward so I can kiss her while I fuck her. So I can fill up two of her perfect holes.
So I can consume her as much as I want to consume her.
‘Harder,’ I grit into her mouth, and she fucks me harder. She milks and milks, and my astounding need for release builds and builds until I fucking explode, biting down on her lip as I rut into her and shoot load after load into that condom.
When she’s stilled, her head collapsed and her breath warm, uneven, on my neck, I wrap my arms around her tightly as my cock pulses out its aftershocks inside her.
‘Stay for the weekend,’ I say, and I don’t care that it sounds like a plea.
Because it is a fucking plea.
‘Please, sweetheart, stay till Sunday.’