15
Vincent Hawthorne
T hat was fucking intense.
I have never had someone make me feel this high with something as simple as a blow job. Yet, Camilla made me come in less than five minutes like a teenage boy.
“Come here,” I order impatiently.
Camilla stands and is barely on her feet when I sit her on the dresser.
She’s naked from the waist down, showing off her black underwear. So damn beautiful and sexy—even that teasing little mark on her hip that makes me want to kiss it every time I set my eyes on it.
This woman doesn’t even know how stunning and sexy she is.
“I’m hungry now,” I comment as my hands start to pull her panties down, revealing her to me. “I need my dessert.”
Snaking my hands around her legs, I tug her closer to me and lower my head to her core. It’s warm and wet, and a musky scent fills my nostrils. Everything about her is pleasant and addictive. That’s why I take a deep breath in before I dig in.
Camilla gasps as soon as my tongue licks her damp slit, and I bask in her salty flavour. Her trembly hands let go of the dresser and hover in the air for a few moments.
When I peek up at her, I see the hesitancy on her face, so I decide for her. I grip one of her hands and bring it to my head.
“I told you, little Milla,” I mumble to her pussy, and she shudders. “Do not be afraid to touch me.”
I suck on her clit just as I slide one finger inside of her, pumping it slowly at first.
“Oh my,” she moans, absentmindedly gripping my hair tighter, and my semi-hard dick twitches.
Just a few moments ago, I was at her mercy, but now she’s at mine. And it satisfies me to no end…Camilla does not realise the power she has over me and how catastrophic it can be for both of us if she or someone else realises it. I can cover that with my dominance, give her a semblance that I am the one in control when in fact, I lost control of my own life the day I met her.
This is the refuge I didn’t know I needed.
Her slender legs tremble, and I use my free hand to place them over my shoulders for support before grabbing her hip again. Camilla’s eyes have long since rolled back, and her mouth is open, letting out sexy little moans and whimpers that invigorate my actions.
There’s a part of me, the one who gets off from watching her pleasure, that wants her to fall apart in my hands, but that’s not what’s going to happen. Not until she’s a writhing mess and begging for it.
“Yes, Vincent,” she pants erratically. Fuck. “Just like that,” she coos when my two fingers curl deep inside her, hitting the soft spot.
“Right here?” I ask quickly before going back to licking and sucking on her clit.
Almost there.
“Yes! Yes!” Her volume rises a big notch, but I don’t care. “Please don’t stop,” she begs, and I smirk internally.
And right when her legs start to tremble violently and her vagina squeezes around my fingers once, I withdraw from her, standing up.
“Wha–” she gasps.
“No coming until I say so,” I grumble, pulling her legs and forcing her to stand.
“But that’s...cruel,” she whimpers.
“Want me to stop?” I ask earnestly.
She hesitates for a second before shaking her head. “No.”
“Then, turn around,” I order. “And bend over.”
Wide eyes stare back at me, and I quirk my eyebrow and nod pointedly at the dresser. She does it slowly, and I take the chance to pick up the rubber that was in my pants pocket.
Yes, I was expecting to get laid. Sue me .
I can’t fucking resist her. It was something I knew would happen constantly as soon as I tasted her.
She’s quite the sight, though with her flushed cheeks, hooded eyes, and swollen lips. Her front is now hidden against the dresser’s wood, but her ass is perked up in the air just for me .
Taking a step forward, I press her back down, making her lay her head on the hardwood.
It looks as hard as I feel.
“Can I fuck you over this dresser, little Milla?” I ask, grazing my cock against her ass.
“Hmm-mph,” she mumbles with a flustered expression.
She’s looking up at me from the corner of her eyes, a dazed expression plastered all over her face. Camilla wants this as much as I do.
I still need a spoken confirmation, though. “Words, darling. I need words.”
“Yes, Vincent. You can.”
“ Good, ” I groan when I rub against her slit. “You’ll take it like the good girl you are and will only come when I say. Got it?”
I take her whimper and ass wiggling against my dick as a yes.
My foot nudges her legs slightly apart, giving me just enough access to her core. My hips move with a will of their own, grazing my erection against her damp slit once more. It’s so pleasurable that we both moan at the same time.
This is just a fraction of what it feels like to be inside her, and it’s enough to drive me wild.
Without thinking twice, I thrust slowly, filling her up to the tilt. My eyes shut tightly in an attempt to control myself when I hear her sounds. It makes me want to pound into her relentlessly, but I need to ease her up first.
“Argh, bloody hell,” I groan at the feeling of her tightness and warmth.
Camilla whimpers my name, urging me to move, and I do— slowly . But fucking hell, I do. And it’s such a sweet torture, even for me, like climbing a stairwell to heaven that never ends.
That exhilarating feeling you’ll be reaching something amazing, but the in-between is still tormenting. That bitter feeling right before the sweetness, right before the high.
For a little while, my will to torture her for earlier is forgotten, and I speed up.
Camilla becomes a writhing, whimpering mess in front of me. The slapping sounds of my hips hitting her ass are as loud as they are erotic. The force of impact is so strong she has to flatten her palms against the wall to prevent her body from going forward.
“Vincent,” she moans loudly at the same time her pussy starts to squeeze my dick rhythmically.
I almost come right here and now, but the idea of edging her quickly delays it. I want to watch her squirm under my touch, struggling to reach the climax I’m not giving her, not yet .
“Do not come, Camilla,” I order, and she whimpers in a weak complaint.
“I can’t...control...that,” she pants between her harsh breaths.
Automatically, I slow down my tempo. If she can’t control it, I will.
“ No ,” she whines, one of her fists coming back to hit on my thigh twice.
I know . It’s difficult for me, too.
“I told you, little Milla, you’ll come only when I say,” I grunt, trying to keep the slow pace. “Want me to speed up again?”
One hard thrust. “Yes,” she answers.
“Want me to fuck you hard again?” This time around, I wrap her locks in one of my hands while the other grips her hips.
“Yes.”
“Then...” I chuckle darkly before thrusting once more. “Beg for it,” I pant. “You’ve got to earn it.”
“P-please, Y-your Grace,” she stutters when my hand tightens on her hair.
Camilla and her fuckin formalities. I want to hear my fucking name.
“That’s not my name,” I growl in her ear before straightening up again.
“Please, Vincent.” Moans fill the air around us, circulating between these four walls.
My dick twitches inside of her, and my hips jerk roughly, hitting her cervix and making her yelp.
“Again,” she begs.
I slowly retreat almost entirely and thrust back inside again. My balls tighten, and I shudder, knowing I’m close.
“When I tell you, you can come,” I order, and she eagerly nods.
I repeat the same movement. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Always the same tempo, slow but hard, and she moans every time I hit just the right spot. Her hands push against the wall, bringing her ass against my hips every time.
Like the good girl I know she is, she takes it and meets all my thrusts, bringing me closer to the edge every single time.
“Fuck, yes,” I growl when I can’t hold it in any longer. “Come for me,” I order.
And just like that...As if she can do it on demand, her pussy squeezes my dick, sucking me dry. We come together in a frantic mess.
Our sloppy, slapping noises mix with both of our vocal moans, drowning all other sounds that the night brings. As we chase our high, nothing else matters.
Nothing but the tempting woman in front of me and the amazing ways she makes me feel.
My chest falls on top of her back when all the energy is finally drained from me. I try not to bring all my weight on top of her and smother her to death, but the truth is I am spent.
The day started badly when I woke up alone, even though I expected it. There was a slight hope she’d be there when I woke up. Not to mention the draining work day I had after having to put up with my annoying brother.
Watching them so close together was the last drop left in my patience jar.
Now, this...Everything with her is just so fucking intense. It feels like all life has been sucked out of me.
After a couple of minutes, I muster up the energy to straighten up and slowly slip out of her. Without uttering a word, I head to her bathroom and dispose of the condom before running the water in the bathtub. Camilla is trying to compose her hair and wrinkled clothes when I reach her.
She looks at me questioningly when I slowly undress her and pull her into the bathroom.
“Get in,” are my only words when we reach her bathtub.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but she still does as I say.
Good. I like when she’s obedient.
My initial plan was to come here, fuck her like there’s no tomorrow and leave her dry and wanting more.
I wanted her to feel used, just like I felt this morning when I woke up alone. But somehow, it feels completely wrong.
While I know why she did it this morning—to protect herself and maybe even me—it’s not fair to make her feel like that just so I can feel better about myself. Just so I can show my jealous side and that I have control of the situation and her.
No. She doesn’t deserve that.
That’s why I get in the bathtub with her and wash her slowly, carefully . She does the same back without question, and it is oddly comforting. It’s the kind of experience I’ve never had with anyone before, mainly because it always felt too intimate, but with Camilla, it feels…right.
Like it’s supposed to happen. To be.
I’m already a sucker for this woman.
In a matter of minutes, the innocent aftercare turns into a heavy make-out session. Knowing she is tired, I tone it down and stop the kiss.
“Camilla,” I call her when we’re starting to wash up. Picking up the sponge and soap, I pour some on it and start washing her. She freezes for a second before relaxing, and I take the cue to continue, “Next time, I expect you to tell me before leaving the bed.”
“Of course.” She nods before turning around when I motion for her to do so.
Her stance is still calm and relaxed as I wash her back, totally different from the euphoric state she was just an hour ago, begging me to come. And while it shouldn’t affect me as much as it does, it’s satisfying that I can experience different sides of Camilla.
I can’t help but kiss her once more before we get out of the bath and finally get dressed.
Tell me to spend the night.
“You need to go back,” she suggests instead.
As much as I was expecting it, my heart drops at the sound of those words. Will this always be the dilemma of my life?
A constant battle between what I should do always against the what I want to do.
“I know,” I sigh, defeated. “But next time, you’re sleeping in my bed.”
She nods but does nothing to keep me here with her…Of course, the should always wins, and I leave her to rest after a quick goodnight kiss.