Chapter 178: Passionate Night II
Sean’s hips bucked involuntarily.
She made a sound. Not discomfort. Approval.
When she pulled back she was breathing hard, a strand of saliva connecting her bottom lip to his cock, and she looked completely undone and completely in control and the contradiction of it was the most erotic thing Sean had ever seen.
"Cum in my mouth," she said. "I want to taste it. I want to swallow every drop."
She took him back in.
Fast. Deep. Her head moving with a rhythm that was expert and hungry and built from twelve years of knowing exactly what she wanted and taking it. Her hand stroked in counterpoint. Her tongue worked the sensitive spot just under the head. Her other hand had moved from his balls to his ass, fingers digging in, pulling him deeper.
The pressure built.
Sean felt it in his spine first. Then his thighs. Then that specific gathering at the base of his cock that meant he had maybe thirty seconds before he couldn’t stop it.
"I’m close," he said.
She doubled down. Faster. Deeper. Her mouth a tight wet channel and her hand stroking what wouldn’t fit and her eyes lifted to his again, watching him, cataloguing, and there was something in her expression that was pure triumph.
"Vanessa—"
He came.
Hard. His hips jerking, his hand fisting in her hair, his cock pulsing against her tongue as she took everything he gave her and swallowed and kept swallowing, her throat working, her lips sealed tight around him, not letting a single drop escape.
When he was done she pulled back slowly, her tongue cleaning the last traces from his tip, and looked up at him with a satisfaction that bordered on predatory.
"Perfect," she said. "Now get on the bed."
---
Sean didn’t move immediately. Still catching his breath. Still processing the sight of Vanessa Chen wiping the corner of her mouth with one finger and sucking it clean.
"Did you hear me?" She stood, her body pressing against his as she rose. Her mouth at his ear. "I said get on the bed."
He went.
She followed, crawling onto the mattress with the same deliberate grace she’d brought to every movement since the fitting room. She pushed him onto his back. Climbed over him. Her thighs straddling his hips, her pussy hovering just above his cock, which was already hard again because she’d barely given him thirty seconds and watching her move had been enough.
"You recover fast," she said, looking down at where they almost touched.
"You’re still wearing pants," he said.
She smiled. Stood on her knees above him and unbuttoned her trousers with the same precise efficiency. Pushed them down. Kicked them off. Her underwear followed. Simple. Black. Gone.
And then she was completely naked above him.
Sean had seen her in the fitted pieces from her own collection. Had seen the structure and the line and the way clothes shaped themselves around her body. None of it compared to this.
She was lean and precise and her small breasts were perfect above the curve of her ribs and between her thighs she was already slick, the evidence of her arousal shining in the Paris afternoon light filtering through the curtains.
"You’re staring," she said.
"I’m looking at exactly what I want to look at."
She leaned down and kissed him. Deep. Her tongue pushing into his mouth, and he could taste himself on her and it made his cock pulse against her stomach.
"Good," she said against his lips. "Then you’re going to watch while I ride you."
She reached between them. Wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Positioned the head of his cock at her entrance.
Their eyes met.
"I’ve waited a long time for this," she said. "I’m not going to be gentle."
She sank down.
Holy fuck.
Vanessa’s head fell back, her mouth opening, a sound escaping her throat that was somewhere between a moan and a growl. She was tight and wet and hot and she took him to the hilt in one movement, her inner walls gripping him with a pressure that made his vision blur.
"God," she breathed. "You fill me so perfectly."
She started to move.
Not slow. Not tentative. She rode him with the same authority she brought to a runway show, her hips rolling and grinding and lifting and dropping in a rhythm that was entirely hers. Her hands braced on his chest. Her thighs working. Her pussy squeezing him with every stroke.
"You like that?" She looked down at him, eyes dark, hair falling forward. "You like watching me take what I want?"
"I love it."
"Then watch."
She increased her pace. Her breathing was coming faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her inner muscles fluttering around him in a way that made his own breath catch.
"Smack my ass," she said. "Hard."
Sean’s hand came down on her right cheek with a crack that echoed through the room.
She gasped. Her pussy clenched around him so tight he nearly lost it right there. His vision narrowed. His jaw locked. Ten seconds. He had maybe ten seconds before he came and she wasn’t anywhere close to done.
"Again," she demanded.
He smacked her left cheek. Same force. Same sound.
This time she moaned, loud and unguarded, and her rhythm faltered for half a stroke before she recovered. But she felt even tighter now, her body responding to the sting, her arousal slicking his cock and her thighs.
"You almost came just now," she said, looking down at him with something between amusement and triumph. "I felt it. You got harder inside me."
"I’m not done."
"No. You’re not." She leaned forward, changing the angle, and the new position made her gasp. "Not until I say you are."
Her breasts brushed his chest as she kissed him. Her hips never stopped moving. She was riding him with a grinding, circular motion now, her clit pressing against his pubic bone on every stroke, and the sounds she was making were getting higher, faster, less controlled.