Chapter Seventeen
Lucian
When we return back from our date, the sun has set and night has come. Her aunt is sleeping, so we head straight to Aurora's childhood bedroom. I hope that she doesn’t have rest in mind.
She's perfection incarnate—eyes that haunt my every waking breath, and a body built for my worship. I crash my mouth to hers, tongue deep enough to taste the nectar of my obsession. I’m not sure if I’m even good at kissing, as I have never done it before her, but this feels right. Electric. Perfect.
She pulls back slightly, “Lucian, my aunt's right down the hall—she'll hear everything.”
I nip her lower lip until it swells. “I need you, Aurora. If that means that she hears how I adore you, then so be it.”
I yank her shirt high to expose those perky tits, and latch on, sucking hard, swirling around the peaks.
She tries to stay silent, but her mouth betrays her, and her legs spread wide. I trail my lips downward, worshipping her trembling stomach with open-mouthed kisses, biting her hips and leaving my marks. I hike her skirt, burying my face in her heat, inhaling her scent like incense. “This cunt is my temple, baby—wet and holy just for me. I live for it, dream of it, owning me.”
I flip her onto her stomach, and press my mouth to the curve of her back, descending to those lush cheeks. I spread them, tongue circling her tight asshole.
I watch as her eyes roll to the back of her head, stuffing the blanket into her mouth to muffle her moans.
Every part of her deserves worship. I kiss the backs of her knees down to her feet, sucking each toe as if they’re candy. She's dripping wet.
Then, we are interrupted by three insistent knocks. “Aurora? Everything okay in there?”
Aurora freezes, eyes wide with fear, but I'm lost in her, cock throbbing like a heartbeat against my zipper. I seize a handful of her hair and guide her trembling form to the door, pressing her breasts against the wood so they flatten against it.
“No hiding our love, my little muse,” I murmur hotly into her ear, freeing my cock that’s branded in her name alone. “Tell her you're fine while I bury myself in paradise.” I nudge her thighs apart with my knee, sliding my tip along her cunt before driving in.
The door vibrates with the force, her body jolting as I fill her completely. “Oui, Tante... all good!” she stammers, voice fracturing into a moan as I begin to thrust.
“I worship this, Aurora, your pussy milking me, pulling me closer to heaven,” I whisper those words in her ear, low enough so only she can hear.
She turns her head to give me a little kiss, and I will never understand how she can make my heart melt in the middle of such primal sex.
I pull my lips away from hers, and gather spit on my fingers, easing one into her virgin little asshole. She tries to jump away from the sensation, but with my other arm, I hold her steady against my touch. No running from me.
“Feel me claiming both your holes, little muse? This is how I honor you—by fucking you senseless.”
She clenches around me, a whimper escaping despite her best effort to remain quiet. I have mercy on her, pulling my middle finger out of her ass.
Another knock. “You sure, ma chérie?”
My hand wraps around her throat, thumb stroking her pulse. My other hand rubs her clit in firm circles, her juices coating us both.
”I’m okay,” she screams, but it doesn’t sound that convincing. The door creaks under our rhythm, her nipples dragging against it. I alternate between feeding her cervix my cock and playing with her little clit.
“I'm really... fine! Just... rearranging!” Aurora cries out again. She’s close to coming, her walls fluttering around me.
“That’s my girl—my filthy, perfect liar. Whisper it back: how you love being worshipped like this.”
The knocks cease, and we hear footsteps shuffling away. That’s when I ramp up, pounding with no restraint.
“I love how you feel inside me, Lucian. I love it when you worship me. And I love you so much. I’m going to come. You’re going to make me come!”
She breaks then, pussy spasming, gushing around my shaft as she stifles a scream against the door. Her orgasm pulls my release from me, hot spurts flooding her. I hold her through it, whispering, “My obsession, my muse, my world. Every drop is for you.”
I catch my breath before lifting her from the doorway. She’s limp in my arms, her head falling against my chest, and if it’s even possible, I become more obsessed.
I lower her onto the sheets, tuck the blanket around her, and grab the water bottle from the nightstand. “Drink,” I whisper, pressing it to her lips until she takes a sip.
Then I gather her in my arms, rocking her gently. “You did good, little muse.” I murmur against her hair. “You did so damn good.”