Chapter 179: Passionate Night III
"I’m going to cum," she said against his mouth. "I’m going to cumon your cock and you’re going to feel every second of it."
"Give it to me."
She pushed herself upright. Braced both hands on his chest. And rode him with everything she had, her pace brutal and her breathing ragged and her dark eyes locked on his with the same intensity she’d brought to the courtyard and the bench and the corner table.
"Sean—"
Her orgasm hit her.
Her whole body went rigid above him. Her head back. Her mouth open. Her pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic pulses that he felt in his spine and his thighs and the base of his skull. A sound came out of her that was his name and a moan and something wordless that was more honest than any of the careful words she’d used in twenty years of professional composure.
She collapsed forward, her forehead against his, both of them breathing hard.
"Don’t come yet," she whispered. "I’m not finished with you."
She pulled off him slowly, his cock slick with her arousal, and the sudden absence of her was almost painful.
"Turn over," she said.
Sean did.
She pushed him onto his stomach and climbed on top of him, straddling his ass, her hands moving down his back with the same deliberate pressure she’d used to assess fabric.
"I want to be in control," she said, leaning down, her mouth at his ear, her breasts pressing into his back. "I want to take you every way I’ve imagined. Are you okay with that?"
"I’m more than okay with that."
"Good." She bit his earlobe. "Then get on your hands and knees."
He rose. She positioned herself behind him, her hand reaching around to stroke his cock, her breasts against his back, her mouth at his shoulder.
"I’m going to ride you from behind now," she said, her hand guiding him back inside her. "And I’m going to control the pace. And you’re going to let me."
She pushed forward.
The angle was different. Deeper. Her arms wrapped around his chest, her thighs outside his, her hips rocking into him with a rhythm that made his arms shake.
"Feel that?" Her voice was breathless. "That’s my pussy taking every inch of you."
"Vanessa—"
"Shh." She increased her pace. "Let me use you."
She rode him like that for what felt like hours and could have been minutes, her body pressed against his back, her breath hot on his shoulder, her moans getting louder and less controlled with every stroke. One hand stayed on his chest. The other moved down, her fingers finding her clit, and the added stimulation made her gasp and clench around him.
"God, I’m close again," she said. "You make me come so easily."
"Let me feel it."
She buried her face in his shoulder and ground against him, her hips moving in small circles, her pussy fluttering, and then she was coming again with a cry that was muffled against his skin, her whole body shaking.
She didn’t stop.
Even as the aftershocks were still rolling through her, she pushed him onto his back again. Climbed on top. Slid him inside her in one motion.
"Ride me," she said, her voice breaking. "From below. I want to feel you fuck up into me."
Sean gripped her hips and thrust upward.
She gasped. Braced her hands on his chest. Met him stroke for stroke.
"Yes," she hissed. "Like that. Harder."
He drove into her from below, his hips lifting off the mattress with every thrust, and she leaned back slightly so he could watch where they joined, his cock disappearing into her wetness, her arousal coating him completely.
"You like watching?" She was panting now. "You like seeing your cock inside me?"
"I love it."
"Then watch me take control."
She pushed him flat and started riding again, but this time she leaned back and planted her hands on his thighs, the position opening her completely to him. Her clit was visible, swollen and slick, and she used one hand to circle it while she moved.
"I’m going to come again," she said. "And you’re going to come with me this time."
She rose. Dropped. Rose. Dropped. Her rhythm was punishing now, her breathing ragged, her body glistening with sweat.
"Now," she commanded. "Come inside me. Fill me up."
Sean’s release hit him like a physical blow.
His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. His back arched. His cock pulsed deep inside her, and she cried out and came with him, her pussy milking him with contractions that drew every last drop from his body.
She collapsed on top of him.
For a long moment neither of them moved. Just breathing. Just the weight of her on his chest and the aftershocks still running through both of them and the Paris afternoon light gold through the curtains.
Then she lifted her head and looked at him.
"We’re not done," she said.
Her eyes were bright and hungry and entirely unguarded.
"Turn me over," she said. "I want you to take me from behind."
"Turn me over."
Sean hands found her hips. One fluid motion and she was beneath him, her cheek against the mattress, her ass rising to meet him in the way her body had been doing since the fitting room. The curve of her spine was a question mark. The slick gleam between her thighs was the answer.
Sean positioned himself behind her.
"Wait," she said.
He stopped. His cock pressed against her pusst entrance but didn’t enter.
Vanessa looked back over her shoulder. Her hair had come loose from whatever precise arrangement it had been in that morning. It fell across her face in strands that stuck to the sweat on her cheek.
He pushed his dick deep inside her.
The sound she made was half gasp and half sob. Her fingers twisted in the sheets. Her back arched deeper, her ass pressing back against him, taking him to the hilt in one stroke that made them both freeze for half a breath.