Chapter 301: [301] "Get cleaned up" (R18)

"You feel--" she gasped, slamming down harder, "so deep, Luc, every time you-- ah--"

"Touch yourself," he said. "I want to watch you come while you ride me."

She obeyed, one hand leaving his chest to slip between her own legs, two fingers finding her clit and circling it while her hips kept their punishing tempo.

The view destroyed him. Juliette above him, flushed from throat to nipples, hair wild, riding his cock with the same discipline she brought to everything, chasing it, taking it.

"I’m close," she warned, high and cracking. "Let’s not stop, don’t-- I want it like this"

"Cum on my cock, Juliette."

She shattered on the downstroke. Her whole body seized, her back bowing, her pussy clamping around him in hard, milking pulses while she cried out loud, unguarded, his name torn out of her.

Her juices flooded around where they were joined, soaking his balls, slicking his thighs, and the convulsing grip of her orgasm ripped his own straight out of him before he could announce it.

"Fuck-- Jules--" He surged up off the mattress, wrapping both arms around her back, and drove up into her from below, three, four desperate thrusts, then buried himself as deep as her body allowed and came.

His cock pulsed hard against her womb, spurt after spurt of hot cum flooding her, so much of it that it immediately began to leak out around his shaft, dripping down onto him with every aftershock clench of her pussy.

She collapsed against his chest, both of them heaving, his cock still twitching inside her, their combined release a warm mess between their bodies.

"That," Juliette managed, "was one."

Luc laughed, breathless, and pressed his lips to her damp temple. "One?"

"One." She lifted her head, and there was a gleam in her eyes he knew very well, the competitive one. "You promised to make it worth my while. Singular performances won’t cut it, Luc."

She rocked her hips once, and his oversensitive cock stirred inside her, trapped in the slick flood of their cum.

"Round two starts when you’re ready. You have ninety seconds." He needed more than that so he flipped her.

She shrieked with laughter as the world spun, landing on her back in the ruin of the sheets, and he was over her before she’d finished bouncing, prying her knees apart.

His cock was smeared with both of them, still thick, still mostly hard, the resilience of a twenty-one year old. He dragged the head through the soaked mess of her pussy, teasing her entrance, her clit, making her squirm.

"Luc--"

"Tell me properly."

"Get back inside me." She grabbed him with both legs and pulled. "Please. Harder this time. I want you to fuck me like you’re leaving without me, and you’re leaving tomorrow."

He pushed in, easier now, her pussy stretched and drenched, taking him to the hilt in one smooth, bottoming-out stroke that made them both groan. He set a different rhythm immediately, deeper and harder, the slap of his hips against hers filling the sun-striped room, the headboard knocking a patient tattoo against the wall.

"Yes-- yes, like that--" Her ankles locked behind him, her heels drumming against his back, urging him on. "Don’t hold anything back. I want to walk funny to the airport."

"You’ll be in first class."

"First class with a limp, Luc--" He silenced her with a kiss, all tongue and teeth, and fucked her through it. The fuck dragged along every nerve inside her, his pubic bone grinding her clit on every thrust. Sweat ran down his spine. Her nails raked red lines down his back.

She was loud now, shameless, moaning his name in fragments, both in French and in no known language.

"Turn over," he rasped suddenly, pulling out. She scrambled to comply, rolling onto her stomach, and he hauled her hips up, settling her onto her knees, her face pressed into the pillow, her ass presented to him, pink and flushed.

He gripped one cheek, spread her, and looked his fill at the soaked state of her pussy before driving back in.

The angle was devastating. He was deeper than before, bottoming out against her cervix on every stroke, and she screamed into the pillow, clutching handfuls of sheet.

"Oh God-- oh God, Luc, right there, don’t change anything--"

"Not planning to." His voice was wrecked. His rhythm was piston-steady, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the walls. "Gonna fill you up again. Watch you drip all the way down."

"Do it--" She shoved back against him, meeting every thrust, taking everything. "Cum inside me again, fill me up, I want it-- I want to feel it for hours--"

His hand slipped beneath her, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in time with his strokes. She came undone in under a minute, convulsing around his cock, a raw, muffled scream punching into the pillow, her entire body clamping down so hard he saw white.

He followed instantly, slamming home one final time and unloading deep inside her, his cock jerking through a second full release, thick ropes of cum painting her insides until he could feel it overflowing, seeping out around him, running down the back of her thigh.

He stayed buried, grinding through it, emptying everything he had. They sank down together onto the bed, still joined, tangled in a thoroughly ruined heap.

Minutes passed.

The dust motes kept dancing in the light.

Somewhere outside, a bird discovered the morning.

"So," Juliette said at last, not moving a single centimeter. "America."

"America," Luc agreed into her shoulder blade. He grinned against her skin.

She said fondly reached back to squeeze his hand. He stayed inside her a while longer, unwilling to end it, his softening cock still cradled in the warm mess they’d made together. Her breathing slowed against the sheets, deep and even, the flush fading from her shoulders by degrees.

Sunlight climbed the wall in its slow arc. Neither of them moved to chase it.

Finally he eased out of her with a low groan and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until her head found his shoulder. His cum welled slowly from her pussy, a warm trickle down her inner thigh, and she made no effort at all to stop it.

Her fingers traced idle circles over his heartbeat.

Outside, the pines rustled, and the sanctuary held them a little longer, wrapped in sweat, sunlight and the sweet wreckage of a morning well spent.

"We really made a mess, huh."

"Let’s get cleaned up."