Chapter 344: Take Every Inch

Rechelle was still on her knees, breath broken, thighs wet from squirting, when her eyes locked on his cock.

It was shiny with her juices, thick and fully hard, still twitching from how tightly she had clenched around it. She reached for him without hesitation, wrapped her fingers around the base, and brought the head to her mouth.

She sucked him in.

The taste of her own arousal mixed with his precum hit her tongue at once. She moaned around the shaft, taking him deeper, wetting him all over again with spit while her hand stroked what her mouth could not fit.

"Ahh... Lucas..."

Lucas’s hand slid into her hair.

He didn’t force her at first ~ just held her there while she worked him. Then her energy turned rougher, greedier, and he matched it. His grip tightened. He pushed deeper into her mouth with controlled thrusts, fucking her throat in short strokes while she took it and kept sucking hard.

"Yes... just like that," he said, voice low and rough. "Suck it. Suck this cock properly."

Rechelle moaned around him, spit running down her chin and over her fingers. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed faster, eyes watering slightly, still looking up at him while he used her mouth. The wet sounds were loud and filthy in the quiet room.

After a while she pulled off with a gasp, lips swollen and shiny, a thick string of spit still connecting her mouth to the head of his cock.

She kept stroking him with both hands, fast and slick.

"I need this inside me," she said, voice wrecked. "Now."

She didn’t wait for an answer.

Rechelle climbed onto the bed, lay back, and spread her legs wide for him. Her pussy was still flushed and dripping from the earlier orgasm, soft and open. Lucas followed her down at once. He settled between her thighs, rubbed the thick head of his cock through her wet folds once, then pushed inside in one steady thrust.

Rechelle’s scream rose ~ and got swallowed by his mouth.

Lucas kissed her hard while he started thrusting, burying his cock deep into her with long, powerful strokes. Her wet walls gripped him tightly on every drive. The bed shifted under them. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room again.

Plap. Plap. Plap.

His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing the full soft weight of them, thumbs dragging over her tight nipples while he fucked her. Rechelle arched under him, arms locking around his back, all composure gone. There was no careful thinking left in her head ~ only the thick stretch of his cock, the heat of his mouth, and the relentless rhythm pounding into her.

"Ahh~yes~yes~Lucas~"

"Take it," he muttered against her lips. "Take every inch."

He thrust harder.

Deeper.

Faster.

Rechelle’s moans broke into high, broken cries. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him in tighter. Her breasts bounced under his hands with every hard stroke. The wet slap of their bodies grew louder as her pussy kept soaking his cock.

"I’m close," Lucas groaned, hips slamming into her. "Fuck~Rechelle~"

"Yes~yes~don’t pull out yet~ahh~"

He gave her several more brutal thrusts, then yanked his cock free at the last second.

Thick ropes of hot cum shot across her body in a straight messy line ~ from her stomach, up between her breasts, over her collarbone, and across her face. The last pulse landed on her open mouth.

Rechelle lay there breathing hard, body marked and trembling, then slowly pushed her tongue out and tasted him.

Warm. Salty. Thick.

She looked up at Lucas while she did it, eyes dark and satisfied, and swallowed.

Lucas collapsed beside her, chest heaving, his cock still twitching against his stomach as the last drops spilled onto his thigh. Rechelle stayed where she was for a long moment ~ marked, dripping, utterly wrecked ~ before she turned her head on the pillow and looked at him.

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them needed to.

Then Lucas, still fighting to catch his breath, reached over with the last of his strength and dragged a blanket halfway over them. It was too small. It barely covered Rechelle’s hips and one of Lucas’s legs, leaving the rest of them bare and tangled.

"Close enough," he mumbled.

"Speak for yourself," Rechelle murmured, but she was already rolling toward him, her body moving on instinct rather than any plan. Her leg slid over his thigh. His arm flopped over her waist like a heavy rope. Her face ended up pressed somewhere between his shoulder and the pillow, his chin landing on top of her head. His other arm ~ the one trapped underneath her ~ went numb within a minute, but he was too exhausted and too satisfied to care.

They shifted. Then shifted again.

At some point in the night Rechelle rolled over and Lucas, unconscious and heat-seeking like a lizard on a rock, followed her, spooning her from behind with his face smashed into the back of her neck so hard his breath made her hair flutter with every exhale. Later she rolled the opposite way and took most of the blanket with her, cocooning herself so thoroughly that Lucas woke briefly, shivering, staring at the ceiling in confusion at three in the morning, wondering why he was naked and cold and where the woman who had screamed his name had gone with all the bedding.

She was beside him the whole time. Buried. Like a satisfied little larva.

He pulled a corner of blanket back and slept again.

By dawn they had rotated a full ninety degrees across the bed. Rechelle lay diagonally, one arm thrown across Lucas’s chest, one leg claiming his side of the mattress entirely. Lucas had somehow ended up with his head at the foot of the bed, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly into the empty space where her feet had been hours earlier. Their legs were braided together in the middle like they’d fought a war in their sleep and called it a draw.

But Rechelle was sleeping deeply. Peacefully. Her body, usually restless, was quiet and heavy and warm, still humming faintly between her thighs from everything he had done to her. No disturbance. No tension. Just pure, worn-out, well-fucked sleep.

---

Sunlight crept through the curtain and landed directly on Rechelle’s face, and she woke slowly, blinking, disoriented ~ because the wall was in the wrong place, and there was a warm, hairy leg draped over her stomach.

Then memory arrived.

All of it. At once.

His cock in her mouth. Her screaming into his lips. Take every inch. The taste of him on her tongue as she swallowed.

Rechelle went stiff. Her whole face flamed hot, so hot she genuinely considered pressing it into the cool pillow and staying there until she died.

Oh my God. Oh my God. I said ~ I did ~ I begged him~

She was still completely naked. Lucas was still completely naked. His leg was still over her. Her thigh was still sticky against his. And the worst, most embarrassing part of all of it ~ the part that made her want to crawl under the mattress ~ was that she couldn’t stop the small, helpless smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

She was mortified. And satisfied. At the same time.

She tried to ease out from under his leg without waking him, moving at glacial, criminal-careful speed, easing one inch at a time toward the edge of the bed. She’d almost made it ~ one leg free, freedom two inches away ~ when Lucas stirred behind her.

His eyes cracked open, blurry and half-conscious, just in time to see her naked body escaping with his blanket trailing behind her.