Chapter Salzburg, September 25 #2
"Just charge it to me, not the federation," I say, snatching the card.
Elevator next. Silence thickens, her breath coming fast and shallow beside me. Mine matches, ragged.
Doors shut. I can't wait, and spin her against the wall, claim her mouth with a starved kiss.
Her fingers dive into my hair, yanking me in, and her tremble hits me like a drug.
She's in new territory, hands shaking as she clings.
This isn't her routine, and that reckless thrill in her eyes mirrors mine.
I love it, love that she breaks her rules for me only.
Ding. I break away, chest heaving. "Room number…do you remember it?"
"Two-oh-four," she gasps, legs wobbling as we stumble out, hands still tangled.
I open the door and pull her in. She walks slowly, her steps uncertain, towards the bed.
Her faltering steps towards the bed snap something primal in me; the way her hips sway, that fake armor slipping to reveal pure, fragile want, her chest heaving like she's already mine to ruin.
I've never craved a woman like this, her clever mouth begging to be owned, her body turned into slick, moaning surrender under me. The door's barely shut, and my cock throbs painfully against my jeans, every nerve lit up from her teasing all night.
All night, the game was who breaks first. I did, but I'll make her shatter twice as hard for it.
I close the distance, grinning like a predator as she draws that shaky breath.
"Every girl says it,” she whispers, “and you won't believe me, but I'm not used to... this."
"Why wouldn't I believe you?" I murmur, voice gravel, stepping so close her heat seeps through my shirt.
"I'm just nervous. Maybe a drink first?" Her words waver, eyes wide.
"No drink." My hand cups her cheek, thumb dragging slowly along her jaw, feeling her pulse jackhammer. Her skin's like silk under my rough fingers. "I like you nervous. Means you're not routine. Crossing lines just for me."
"Girls do that for you all the time?" She fires back, but it's breathy, needy.
Why the fuck does she care? Her questions poke at old habits, but I'm done talking.
My lips crash against her neck, salt and sweetness flooding my tongue, teeth nipping that tender spot above her collarbone as her jacket slides off my hands.
She moans, low and broken, arching into me, head tilting to bare more skin like an offering.
Yes. Her scent floods me—arousal, floral shampoo, pure sin—my hips grind forward instinctively, cock straining as her moan vibrates against my lips.
My hands roam, greedy, peeling at fabric while her body yields, rational thought fleeing her eyes. This is it: shattering her control, instinct swallowing us whole, her wetness summoning me.
Then she snaps, seizing control and devouring me instead. Eyes flashing fire as she grabs my hair, yanking my mouth to hers like she's starving, her tongue invading mine, fierce and hungry, pure sex flooding my mouth.
Her pelvis grinds hard into my crotch, my hard-on straining like iron against her, and I groan into the kiss, every nerve firing as her desperation hits me like a drug.
Her hands claw at my T-shirt, ripping it up with raw need to feel my muscles, and I lift my arms, letting her strip it off and hurl it away.
Her fingers dig into my back, tracing ridges carved from years of training, grinding her soaked heat against me harder—fuck, I feel her wetness seeping through, my cock pulsing wildly as she owns the friction.
I shove her back onto the bed, pinning her writhing body under my weight, chest heaving. "Just for the record," I rasp, voice wrecked, "we can stop whenever."
"Don't you dare," she grins wickedly, dragging my head down to devour my mouth again, all teeth and tongue.
Clothes fly; my pants hit the floor, my shirt follows, revealing the sculpted chest she devours with her eyes.
"My panties are soaked," she whispers, grabbing my hand and shoving it between her thighs. My fingers slide over drenched lace, pressing her throbbing clit, and her moan rips through me as she arches, head thrown back.
"Take them off," I growl, but the tease disobeys, diving into my boxers instead. "Not so fast, Mr. Kern. First, we'll check how ready you are."
She yanks them down, my thick cock springing free into her grip; hot, velvety, tip slick with pre-cum. She squeezes, thumb circling the weeping head, then purrs, "Mind if I have a taste?" Before I answer, her mouth descends, tongue lapping the salt, then sucking me deep, wet heat enveloping me.
I fist her hair, thrusting once into that tight throat—fuck—before hauling her up.
"Your hungry pussy first." I rip her panties off, bury my face between her spread thighs, tongue lashing her swollen clit, parting slick folds to plunge a finger inside her clenching heat.
"Your pussy likes this, right?" I mutter against her.
"My pussy likes something larger," she gasps, but lets me add another finger, stretching her dripping core.
She squirms, clawing sheets. "Please, Thomas," she moans, wrecked.
I still, cock aching. "Right... do you have...? 'Cause I don't..."
"My purse," she smiles, lounging back to eye-fuck my body as I snag it, ripping open the condom packet. "You expected this?" I raise a brow, rolling it down my length.
"You didn't?" she shoots back.
"What an idiot, right?" I position between her legs, pinning her fully, whispering hot in her ear, "At least I know this is what you want."
"My wet cunt not enough proof?" But words die as I slide in slow, her walls gripping like velvet fire.
Balls-deep thrust, and she fists my hair, yanking my mouth to hers, tongue fucking mine with desperation. I pound a rhythm matching her rolling hips, slick skin slapping, then pull out, flipping her to her side. I enter from behind, cupping her perfect tits, thrusting savage.
"Your breasts are made for my hands," I mumble, lost.
She moans, hand diving to her clit.
“My cock not enough?" I bite her earlobe, slamming harder. But she continues pleasing herself.
Her fingers slip in her gushing wetness, circling frantically—her pussy clamps like a vice, orgasm ripping through her in waves, moans turning to screams. I thrust twice more, exploding hard, vision blacking out in bliss.
I cradle her slick, trembling body against mine, sweat-glued skin sticking as our heartbeats thunder in unison, the room gone silent except for those raw, ragged breaths sawing out of us.
Her head rests on my chest, and fuck, holding her like this, spent but still humming with heat, feels like victory, her softness molding to my hard edges.
“That was the best sex I ever had,” she murmurs finally, voice husky, spent.
“Yeah,” I breathe, lips brushing her hair, cock already twitching back to life against her thigh. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”
***
We lie naked on the sheets, she turning on some low, pulsing music while I call down for Prosecco.
Bubbles fizzing in flutes as we sip slowly, bodies tangled loose, no words needed.
The need’s still there, banked but smoldering; for now, we’re wrecked in the best way, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my abs.
I set my glass aside, eyes locked on her flushed curves. “Time to test how many times I can make you come.” Before she protests, I slide down, nudging her thighs apart, lips ghosting kisses up their trembling insides; soft, teasing, tasting salt and her lingering arousal.
"Thomas, I don’t really like—" she starts, but it cracks into a moan as I nuzzle higher.
“You were saying?” I smirk against her skin, her betrayal sweet music.
“Nothing,” she gasps, hips bucking as I plant hungry kisses on her swollen pussy, teeth grazing those sensitive folds just enough to make her jolt.
My tongue circles her clit with ruthless precision, flicking and swirling as I suck like I've mapped every spot that wrecks her. She’s dripping again, thighs clamping my head, and I lap it up, drunk on her taste.
“I want you in my mouth, too,” she demands, voice wrecked.
“Always about control with you, isn’t it?” I grin, twisting on the bed into 69 perfection.
Her mouth's a fucking furnace, sucking me deep with greedy pulls that make my balls tighten, her tongue swirling the head as I groan into her pussy, not letting up—tongue lashing her clit in tight circles, two fingers curling deep inside her soaking heat, hitting that spot that has her thighs quaking around my ears.
Those vibrations from her moans shoot straight through my cock, pushing me closer to the edge, but I hold back, focused on breaking her first, tasting every gush as she clenches and floods my mouth.
She rips off with a strangled cry, body seizing; orgasm crashes through her like a storm, pussy pulsing wild around my fingers, juices coating my chin as she screams into the sheets, back arched bow-tight.
I lap her through it, merciless, until she's twitching hypersensitive, then crawl up, cock throbbing heavy between us, her eyes glazed with bliss and fresh hunger.
"Fuck, you're addictive," I growl, snatching another condom from the nightstand, thank Christ she packed extras, rolling it on fast before pinning her wrists above her head, slamming home in one brutal thrust. She's molten, gripping me tight, legs hooking my waist to yank deeper, nails raking into my palms.
We fuck like animals; slow grinds melting into savage pounds, her tits bouncing, my hips snapping as sweat drips, bed creaking under us.
"Come again," I rasp against her throat, teeth marking her pulse, free hand pinching her nipple hard.
She does, shattering with a wail, milking me until I bury deep and roar my release, vision sparking white.
Collapsed, breathless, I roll us so she's draped over me, both wrecked and grinning. "Three down... how many more you got?" Prosecco forgotten, music throbbing low, we′re far from done, but my eyes are closing.
She snuggles in my arms, pulling a blanket over us, and with her warm body close, I fall asleep.
***