Chapter 164| Marathon Sex R18+

Chapter 164: Chapter 164| Marathon Sex R18+

"Get up here and fuck me before she gets back."

The words landed somewhere low in Zane’s gut. He rose off his heels, knees cracking against the mattress, and Nil was already turning—rolling onto her stomach in one fluid motion, that checkered skirt still bunched around her waist like a bad joke.

She knew what she wanted. She always did.

Her weight settled onto her forearms first, then her elbows, and the curve of her spine dipped into a long lazy arch. The fairy lights caught the sweat drying on her lower back. Zane’s hands found her hips before his brain caught up—fingers spreading across the wide flare of bone, thumbs pressing into the soft tissue above her ass.

"Fuck," he breathed. Not eloquent. He didn’t care.

Nil glanced back over her shoulder. Pink cheeks, half-lidded eyes, hair stuck to her temple. "Any Problem?"

"No."

He dragged his cock through the wet heat between her thighs. Once. Twice. The head caught at her entrance and she pushed back—impatient, always impatient—and he slid inside her in one long stroke.

Tight. Hot. Wet enough that the sound of it filled the room.

"Oh."

The word left her mouth in pieces. Her fingers twisted into the sheets, knuckles going white, and Zane watched himself disappear into her. Inch by inch until his hips pressed flush against the curve of her ass.

He didn’t move. Couldn’t. The pulse of her around him was enough to short-circuit every coherent thought in his skull.

"Zane." Her voice had gone breathy. "Move."

He pulled back slow. Just the head left inside her, gripping tight, and she made a sound like a question. Then he slammed forward.

The crack of skin on skin. Her gasp. The mattress squeaking beneath them. He set a rhythm—hard, deliberate strokes that pushed her forward an inch every time until she had to brace herself against the headboard with one hand.

Her hips rolled back to meet him. Slap. Slap. Slap. The checkered skirt had dragged up past her waist completely, bunched in a twisted knot against her ribs.

"You feel.." He couldn’t finish the sentence. His hand came down on her ass without thinking. Not hard. Just enough to make her jolt.

Nil moaned into the pillow.

He did it again. Harder. The flesh rippled under his palm and she arched deeper into the mattress, presenting herself like she’d been waiting for this her whole life.

"I wouldn’t mind," Zane managed between strokes, "fucking you anal sometime. Your ass is.." He squeezed the cheek he’d just slapped. "Fucking fabulous."

Nil’s laugh came out as a moan. "No."

He slowed. "No?"

"I haven’t done that before." She twisted her neck to look at him, lips parted, sweat beading along her hairline. "Never."

Zane’s hips stuttered.

So much for that fantasy. But the way she said it like a confession, like she’d just handed him something private, sent a different kind of heat through his chest. He gripped her hips harder and drove into her.

"Then this is enough," he said. His voice sounded like gravel. "You’re enough."

Nil’s answer dissolved into a long, low moan. Her forehead dropped to the pillow. One hand reached back and grabbed his wrist, nails biting into the skin, holding him there like she needed the anchor.

He kept stroking. Hard. Dragging the skirt back with every thrust until the fabric hung off her like an afterthought. The angle shifted and suddenly he was hitting something different. Something that made her whole body jerk and her cunt clench around him like a fist.

"Right there," she gasped. "Don’t stop, don’t.."

"I’m not."

But he was close. Too close. The pressure had been building since the moment she’d spread her legs, and now every thrust sent a pulse of heat straight up his spine. His balls drew tight. His breathing went ragged.

"Fuck," he grunted. "I’m cumming."

Three more strokes. Maybe four. Nil arched her waist and pushed back to meet him, and that was it—the sight of her ass pressed against him, that skirt twisted around her ribs, the wet sound of her cunt taking everything he had.

He pulled out. Stroked himself twice. Came across the backs of her thighs in thick white ropes that caught the fairy lights and dripped down onto the sheets.

"Shit," he whispered.

His knees gave out. He collapsed sideways onto the mattress, chest heaving, cock still twitching against his stomach. The ceiling spun above him. Somewhere down the hall a door creaked open and closed again.

Nil hadn’t moved. She lay there on her stomach, legs still spread, breathing hard into the pillow. Then her head turned and she looked at him—really looked, eyes dragging over his spent body like she was cataloging every inch.

"You’re a mess," she said.

"So are you."

She laughed. Low and rough. Then she pushed herself up on one elbow and crawled toward him.

Zane didn’t have time to ask what she was doing. Her hand closed around his cock—still slick, still hot—and stroked once, base to tip. His whole body seized.

"Nil.."

"Shut up."

She stroked again. His hips bucked off the mattress. The head of his cock, wet with his own cum, had already started to stiffen in her grip. He watched her thumb drag through the mess at the tip and spread it down the shaft.

"You’re hard again," she murmured. "Already."

"Fuck." It was the only word left in his vocabulary.

She straddled him before he could form another thought. Reverse cowgirl—her back to his face, that magnificent ass hovering just above his hips. Her hand guided him to her entrance and she sank down in one long, slow drop.

Zane’s eyes rolled back.

She rode him like she’d been doing it for years. Hands braced on his thighs, hips rolling in a circle at the bottom of every stroke. The view was obscene—her spine curved, her shoulders thrown back, the nape of her neck slick with sweat, and his cock disappearing into her over and over.

"Grab my tits," she said.

He reached around. His hands found her breasts and squeezed, fingers rolling her nipples until they were stiff peaks against his palms.

Nil moaned. Her rhythm faltered, just for a second—then picked up harder. Faster. She was fucking him now, really fucking him, taking what she wanted with both hands planted on his knees and her thighs slapping against his hips.

"You’re gonna make me cum again," she panted.

"Isn’t that a good thing." Zane replied with a flustered face, eyes closed halfway with pleasure.

He pinched her nipples and she cried out—a sharp broken sound that echoed off the thin walls. Her cunt clamped down on him like a vice and Zane felt his own release building for the second time.

"Nil..."

"I know.."

He came with a groan that started in his chest and ended somewhere in his throat. His hips lifted off the bed, lifting her with them, and she rode him through it with her head thrown back and her nails digging into his thighs.

When it was done she stayed there. Just for a moment. Both of them breathing like they’d run a marathon. Then she swung her leg over and collapsed onto the mattress beside him.

Neither spoke.

Nil’s eyes met his.