12
Vincent Hawthorne
T hose two words are all the confirmation I need.
With my hands securely holding her bum while her legs are tightly wrapped around my hips, I effortlessly carry her to the bedroom that is attached to the office.
Even though she is not heavy at all, walking is hard for other reasons. The erection that is straining against my slacks and continuously grinding against her core is both blissful and torturous. But this is the excruciating result of days of playing games and avoiding what was inevitable.
The past twenty-four hours especially have been filled with the creation of different ways I could fuck her into oblivion. So much so that I didn’t work today.
“Hold on tight, Ms White,” the rasp is a clear sign of the strain I’m in at the moment. “This is the first and only time I’ll have the finesse of carrying you to a bed so I can fuck you.” My words are followed by a teasing bite on her neck, forcing a moan out of her.
The slim arms wrapped around my neck are not smooth against my skin as usual, and from the corner of my eye, I can see the goosebumps on her skin.
The bedroom decoration is neoclassical, just like the rest of the manor, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck about it now, except for the fact that I am reaching the four-post king-sized bed.
It’s a challenge, especially because I keep burying my head in her neck and chest, kissing and nibbling while managing the short—turned longer than needed—walk.
When my knees hit the edge of the bed, I gently drop her on the mattress. She looks at me wide-eyed with messy hair and a rumpled shirt. My eyes zone in on her cleavage, focusing on the way her chest heaves up and down.
I crawl on top of her, stopping just close enough so I can quickly unbutton the white fabric. With each button that is freed, the more I can see her bra and the valley her full breasts create at the centre of her chest.
Camilla’s hands are shakily gripping the bed’s cover, and I can’t help but guide them to my chest over my shirt as a way to let her know I want her to undress me. too.
I might be a duke, her boss, and from her perspective, her superior. But I am still a man, and I sure as hell love the tingling that ignites on my skin every time she touches me.
“Do not be afraid to touch me.”
Her shaky hands lower to my buttons and start to work, revealing my torso to her. My hands, which were on her waist, rise up to her chest, grabbing a handful.
“Y-you–” Camilla gasps. “Oh, wow!”
I swear my dick twitches at the breathlessness of her voice, yet hating the fact that she keeps addressing me formally.
She is still hesitant to call me Vincent. But to be honest, very few aren’t.
“Say my name,” I growl.
I want to hear it. I want to know how it sounds to hear my name coming from her breathless mouth.
She hesitates, battling if she should or not, and to remind her of the fact that we’re too far past the level of professionalism, my mouth lowers toward her neck, softly sucking on the soft spot there.
“Camilla,” I warn, lowering further down, nibbling on her collarbone.
Little whimpers escape her mouth just as my teeth graze her skin towards one of her boobs. When my tongue peeks out, licking her skin over the edge of the bra, she finally obeys me in a loud moan, “Vincent!”
It sounds heavenly. Her voice is mellow and needy, triggering something inside. A roaring euphoria rages through my body to the point of no return, making me suck hard on her skin.
This fucking woman will be the death of me.
“That’s right,” I breathe into her chest while one of my hands sneaks behind her back, snapping her bra open. “That’s the only name allowed to come out of your mouth tonight.”
My mouth closes around one of her nipples, and her back arches into me as her head digs into the mattress. Camilla moans and squirms underneath me, grazing her thighs on my swollen dick.
I can’t help but let one of my hands travel down to her waist and start to unzip her pants. They’re trembling the whole time, barely being able to get the job done.
“Are you wet for me?” I ask, teasing the skin of her hips with the pads of my fingers right after. “Is that what I’ll find if I slide my fingers into you?”
My heart is thundering in my chest, and I’m fighting like hell not to have my hands shaking with the desire and lust that’s waving off of me. But I can’t help the goosebumps that spread when Camilla’s hands spread over my chest and abs.
“Oh, my,” she exclaims, her fingers pressing against my hard muscles.
“That’s it, darling. Touch me,” I plead. “Just like I want to touch you.”
Wetness engulfs my fingers as soon as I slide them through her panties, and I can’t control the approving growl that vibrates in my chest. Smooth, soft and warm.
I knew she’d be fucking dripping for me.
She had said this was wrong, but then why does this feel so right?
Like I was born to be in one place and one place only—between her thighs and inside her.
“You’ll be my downfall, Camilla White,” I groan.
I may be speaking figuratively, but one thing is true. After all of the women I’ve had, nothing has ever felt like this, and I doubt it ever will be like this again if not with her. On top of that, there’s a little piece in the back of my mind that agrees with the statement for more than just the sexual meaning of the word.
They hold a meaning much bigger than I can understand right now, and with how deep she’s seeped her way into me this fast, it’ll be too late by the time I realise what it really means.
Urgency kicks in, so I tug her pants down harshly before balancing on my knees and dragging the rest of her clothes off. Once that’s out of the way, I also take my shirt off. Every layer covering us is suffocating and preventing me from getting what I want. Her.
I fucking want her so much.
Locking her legs with my arms, I get ready to pin her down, but the sight of something stops me for a second. A small heart-shaped blemish on her hip catches my attention. It’s ironic that the first woman to make me disregard all the obligations that tear us apart has a heart marking her body.
Is this a sign from above?
Even if not, my first impulse is to kiss it before I dive in for a taste of her core.
Camilla gasps just as my tongue touches her warm core for the first time. My fingers can’t stay still and come around to help my tongue get the job done, and soon, she’s a writhing mess.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” I tease her, appreciating how much she’s writhing under my touch. “Believe me, it tastes just as good, too.”
She’s musky and sweet, reminding me of those juicy persimmons you eat in autumn. Weird comparison . But realistic.
“Vincent,” she moans as her hand lowers to grip my hair.
The light burn on my scalp spurs me to continue.
“That’s it,” I encourage her.
Sucking harder on her clit, I increase my finger’s speed. Her body spasms, and her legs flex around my back in response, and fuck. It makes me so much harder for her.
“I—” she gasps as her pussy contracts around my fingers, sucking them in.
Arched back, trembling legs, parted mouth, and pulsing core. All the signs are there; she’s very close. All she needs is a little encouragement to jump over the edge.
“Come for me,” I grumble against her thigh before continuing my assault.
Her eyes squeeze shut, and I can feel her orgasm through the spasms and the way her hips try to elevate. I press her down slightly without slowing down, letting her ride the orgasm to the fullest.
“Oh,” she murmurs when she finally comes down from her high.
She’s spread out on my bed, completely exposed to me. Heaving chest is still recovering, but her face is relaxed and sated. Fucking beautiful .
Before she has time to overthink, I tug my pants off, undressing fully. Upon feeling the mattress shift, she looks at me, her eyes widening at my dick standing up to attention. Tall and proud.
“Come here,” I call, pulling her up by the wrist and turning us around, directing my back to the headboard and bringing her to my lap.
“I don’t—I haven’t-” she stutters, and I freeze.
She hasn’t…done it? At all?
“Are you a virgin?” I ask cautiously.
“No,” she exclaims, alarmed. “But I’m not that experienced.”
Thank fucking god.
“Trust your instinct. It’ll be fine,” I reassure her while caressing her cheek.
Then, I bring her down for a heated kiss while my hand finds the nightstand’s first drawer to take one condom out.
“Last chance to change your mind, little Milla ,” I breathe as I roll the condom on.
Raising my gaze to her face, I catch her looking at my dick, her throat bobbing up and down. When her eyes meet mine, my heart seizes and skips a beat. Heat spreads through my body, and I act before I can think about it, grabbing her at the nape of the neck and bringing her closer to me.
Our lips touch, and as she moans into my mouth, I pull her hips to mine, grinding them together before I raise her and place her at the tip of my dick.
“Ride me,” I demand.
Her hands gingerly find my shoulders, and I place mine over hers, squeezing them to let her know it’s okay. Warmth engulfs me slowly, and I can’t help but let my head fall back and groan as she takes me inside.
“So tight,” I whisper hoarsely as she sinks in, breaking through the slight resistance her body gives.
When my eyes finally open, I focus on her, enjoying the way her body keeps moving down. Her lips are parted in a perfect ‘O’ shape, and it makes me want to stick a finger in them and have her suck on it.
“Fucking perfect,” I grumble, cupping her neck with one hand while the other keeps gripping her hip tightly.
I fight off the urge to grunt as she bottoms me out, her ass pressing against my balls. Sex has always been good, but never like this. It’s so intense that goosebumps break out on my skin.
When Camilla finally moves up, she does it with a bit more speed, getting into the perfect rhythm, bouncing on my lap.
Her slender figure towers over me, creating moving shadows from the small lamps illuminating the bedroom. Her body shines from the sweat alongside two flushed cheeks, half-closed eyes, and messy hair. Her perky tits are repeatedly bouncing, and I can’t help but fondle them. I twist, pinch, and nibble on both.
What a bloody view.
“Vincent,” she moans.
A shiver runs down my spine, straight to my balls, listening to her voice moaning my name. That, combined with how she’s giving herself to me, enjoying the moment to the fullest, makes it all the more intense.
“Fucking hell, darling. Call my name again,” I plead.
My hands move with a mind of their own. One reaches the nape of her neck and pressures her down onto me roughly, while the other grips her hip tightly and forces her to grind against me. Her delicate hands that were supporting her on my shoulders find my hair, intertwining her fingers in it.
“Vincent!”
Her sing-song voice brings me close to the edge, so I slide my hand between us to find her clit and start caressing it in slow circles. Camilla trembles in my hold just as her head falls back with a loud moan, and her legs tighten against my hips, making me speed up.
“Look at you,” I grunt, enthralled by the view. “Taking my cock so well. Let go, sweetheart. Let go.”
And she does. Her fingers gripping my hair tightly while her pussy spasms around me are enough to make me come right alongside her into the condom. We both chase the high, moving fast and roughly but in sync.
The sounds in this room are loud and erotic, and my brain shuts down, blinding me as I come.
“Oh my god,” she chokes out, letting her body fall limply on top of mine.
“That was...” I trail off.
There aren’t even enough words to describe it.
“I know,” she agrees, with her chin still nestled against my shoulder. “I’ve never had sex like that.”
“Neither have I,” I admit with a content sigh.
Camilla leans back, quirks her eyebrow, and asks, “I assumed you were experienced?”
“And I am,” I confirm.
Not that it is something to brag about, but I’ve indulged whenever I felt necessary. Sometimes, even more than I’d like to admit. And it was never— ever —like this.
“Right.” She nods awkwardly. “I’m going to, uh, go—”
“No.” I grip her hips tightly. “I’m not done yet.”