Chapter 107: Taking Her Ass Virginity**
Lucian pushed in slowly.
Clara’s ass was tight — impossibly tight — and the resistance made his vision blur for a moment. The head of his dick popped past the entrance, and Clara’s whole body tensed.
"Aaaahhh—"
"You’re so tight," Lucian groaned.
Clara turned her head and rolled her eyes at him. "You’re the one with the huge dick, idiot."
Lucian pushed in deeper. Inch by inch. Clara’s fingers clawed at the sheets, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short sharp gasps.
"Nnngh— ah— ahhn—"
He was halfway in. He paused, letting her adjust. His hands gripped her hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft pale skin.
"Keep going," Clara breathed.
Lucian pushed the rest of the way in.
"AAAHHHN—" Clara’s back arched. Her walls clamped around him so tightly that Lucian had to stop and breathe.
He stayed still for a moment — buried to the hilt, her ass pressed flush against his hips. Clara’s body trembled beneath him.
Then he started to move.
Slow at first. Pulling back until just the tip remained inside, then sliding all the way back in. Each stroke sent a shudder through Clara’s body.
Pam... pam... pam...
"Aah— aah— ahhn— Kael—"
Lucian reached around her hip with one hand. His fingers found her pussy — still swollen, still dripping with cum from the previous rounds. He slid two fingers inside her easily.
"AAAHHN—" Clara’s moan spiked. "Both— nngh— at the same time— ahhh—"
He fucked her ass with his dick while his fingers pumped in and out of her pussy. The dual stimulation was too much — Clara’s moans became continuous, breathless wails that echoed off the hotel walls.
Pam. Pam. Pam. Squelch. Pam.
"Ah— ah— ahhn— fuck— aaaahhh— I’m— nngh— I’m cumming—"
Clara’s orgasm hit her like a wave. Her ass clenched around his dick so violently that Lucian nearly lost it right there. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers, flooding them with fresh fluid.
Lucian didn’t stop. He kept fucking her — harder now, faster, his fingers still working her pussy.
Pam-pam-pam-pam—
"*Ah— ah— ah— ahhn— too much— aaaahhh— I’m cumming again— AAAHHHN—"
Second orgasm. Clara collapsed onto her forearms, her face buried in the pillow, her ass still raised, still taking him. Her body was shaking uncontrollably.
Lucian’s rhythm became erratic. His thighs burned. His grip on her hip tightened.
"I’m close—"
"Inside—" Clara’s voice was muffled by the pillow. "Ahhn— cum inside— nngh—"
Lucian thrust deep — as deep as he could go — and came.
"AAAHHNN—"
Hot cum flooded her ass. Rope after rope, filling her, warming her from the inside. Clara moaned loudly, her body milking him as the pleasure rippled through her oversensitive nerves.
Lucian stayed buried inside her until the last drop was spent. Then he slowly pulled out.
Cum dripped from her ass — thick, white, flowing out in a slow stream that ran down and mixed with the cum still leaking from her pussy. Both holes overflowed, the fluid pooling on the ruined sheets beneath her.
Lucian sat back on his heels and admired his work.
Clara was a mess. Her pale skin was covered in bite marks and scratches. Cum dripped from her pussy and her ass in sticky white trails. Her blonde hair was wild, matted with sweat. Her thighs trembled.
"Pervert." she mumbled into the pillow.
"You’re the one who told me to fuck your ass."
"Shut up and help me to the bathroom."
They collapsed onto the bed after cleaning up.
Even though Lucian still wanted to continue in the bathroom, Clara immediately stopped him.
It was almost afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting warm lines across the tangled sheets. Clara lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her body sprawled like a starfish. Lucian lay beside her, one arm behind his head, finally — finally — soft.
Clara turned her head to look at him.
"You’re insane, you know that?"
Lucian shrugged.
A comfortable silence settled between them. Then she spoke again, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.
"You know... I should tell Rose to join us next time."
Lucian’s eyebrow twitched. "What?"
"Rose. Join us. Three-way." Clara said it casually, like she was suggesting they get coffee. "The poor thing is always so tense."
"She’s not into me," Lucian said.
Clara turned her head fully and stared at him. "What?"
"Rose. She’s not into me. She’s into bad boys. I’m pretty sure I’m not her type."
Clara stared at him.
Then she flicked him hard on the forehead.
"Ow— what was that for?"
"And you think you’re a good boy?" Clara’s voice was flat. Disbelieving. Almost offended on Rose’s behalf.
Lucian rubbed his forehead. "What?"
Clara pushed herself up onto one elbow, her blonde hair falling messily around her face. She looked at Lucian like he was the dumbest person on the planet.
"Lucian. You’re arrogant as fuck. You walk around like you own every room you enter. You beat people up without changing your expression. You’ve killed multiple things and probably people and you don’t even flinch." She flicked his head again. "You are literally the definition of a bad boy."
Lucian opened his mouth. Yah.
Lucian scratched his head.
"She... likes me?"
"God, you’re so dense." Clara closed her eyes. "How did someone this dense survive this long?"
Lucian stared at the ceiling. Rose. Quiet, serious Rose with her green eyes and her constant worrying and her stubborn insistence on earning everything herself.
He’d never thought about it.
Clara peeked at him with one eye, saw his expression, and laughed.
"You really didn’t know."
"I really didn’t know."
"Idiot."
She rolled over and draped an arm across his chest, her head finding the spot between his shoulder and his neck. Her voice was sleepy now, muffled against his skin.
"Just think about it. Don’t do anything stupid."
Lucian lay there, staring at the ceiling, Rose’s name echoing in his thoughts in a way it never had before.
The afternoon sun warmed the room through the curtains.
Neither of them moved for a long time.