Repressed.

Tonight

His mouth found the side of her neck, warm and open. She leaned back against him, feeling the hard line of his c**k against her ass. His hands moved up to cover her breasts, squeezing gently, then slid down to her hips. She turned in his arms and kissed him, messy and urgent. Their tongues met, and she tasted whiskey and the faint salt of his skin.

He walked her backward until her back met the wall. His hands pushed her dress up around her waist. She reached for his belt, fingers fumbling, and he helped, shoving his trousers down just enough to free his c**k. It was thick and hot in her hand. She stroked him once, feeling him twitch, then guided him between her thighs. He pushed her panties aside and rubbed the head of his c**k against her wet folds, coating himself in her slick.

"f**k," he muttered against her mouth.

She hooked one leg around his hip and he thrust into her in one smooth motion. Eloise gasped at the stretch, the sudden fullness. He f****d her against the wall, short, hard strokes that made her breasts bounce and her head knock the plaster. Every thrust dragged over that sensitive spot inside her. She clung to his shoulders, nails digging in, moaning into his neck.

He didn't last long. His rhythm faltered, hips jerking, and he came with a low groan, pulsing deep inside her. She felt the heat of it, the way his c**k throbbed, and the sensation pushed her over the edge. Her p***y clenched around him, milking every drop as her own orgasm rolled through her in tight, shaking waves.

They stayed locked together, breathing hard. His forehead rested against hers. After a moment he eased out, and she felt his c*m trickle down her thigh. He kissed her again, slower this time, then lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs.

The bedroom was large, the bed already turned down. He laid her on the sheets and stripped the rest of her clothes away. She lay naked, legs parted, watching him undress. His body was lean and hard, stomach tight, c**k already half-hard again. He knelt between her thighs and spread her open with both hands. The first slow lick over her c**t made her hips jerk. He didn't rush. His tongue moved in steady circles, then lower, tasting her, then back up to suck gently on the swollen bud. Two fingers slid inside her, curling just right, and her thighs trembled.

She came again with his mouth on her, back arching off the bed, one hand fisted in his hair. He kept licking through it, drawing it out until she was shaking and oversensitive. Then he crawled up her body, kissed her deep, and rolled her onto her stomach.

He pulled her hips up and slid back inside her in one thrust. The new angle made her see stars. He f****d her harder this time, one hand reaching around to rub her c**t, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. She came a third time, face pressed into the pillow, crying out as her p***y spasmed around him. He followed soon after, burying himself to the hilt and filling her again.

They collapsed together on the sheets, sweat-slicked and breathing hard. He pulled her against his chest, one arm draped over her waist. In the low light she could see their reflection in a large mirror across the room, her body flushed and marked, his arm possessive. The sight sent a quiet thrill through her.

-----

Eloise stirred at the soft press of lips against the back of her neck. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the mirror across the bed. She felt the hard line of his c**k sliding between her thighs, already thick and ready, nudging at her slick entrance without pushing in. His palm cupped one breast, thumb brushing her n****e until it tightened, while his other hand slipped between her legs and found her c**t with slow, steady circles.

She sighed, half-asleep, and rocked her hips back. The head of his c**k nudged again, parting her folds, coating itself in her wetness. He didn’t thrust, just kept that constant, teasing pressure, letting her feel every inch as he rubbed the swollen head up and down her slit. Her c**t throbbed under his fingers, and she felt herself growing wetter with every lazy stroke.

He eased inside her from behind, one long, smooth glide that filled her completely. She gasped, arching back against his chest. His arm tightened around her waist, holding her close while he began to move, short, deep nudges that kept his c**k buried inside her, grinding against every sensitive spot. His fingers never stopped on her c**t, rubbing in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his hips.

They stayed like that, spooned tight, his body curved around hers. He groped her breast harder, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her n****e between his fingers. Every time he nudged forward, his c**k dragged over that perfect spot inside her, making her p***y flutter around him. She reached back, gripping his hip, urging him deeper even though he was already as far as he could go.

He kept the pace slow at first, savoring the heat of her around him. His mouth found her shoulder, teeth grazing skin, breath hot against her neck. She felt his c**k twitch inside her every time her p***y clenched. His fingers on her c**t moved faster, slick with her arousal, and she moaned as the first orgasm built low in her belly.

It hit her in waves—her thighs shaking, p***y pulsing around his c**k as she came. He didn’t stop moving, just kept those steady nudges, f*****g her through it while she trembled in his arms. The moment she started to come down, he rolled her n****e harder between his fingers and pressed his fingers firmer against her c**t, dragging another orgasm out of her before the first had fully faded.

She lost count after that. Time blurred into heat and friction and the constant press of his body against hers. He f****d her for what felt like hours, sometimes slow and deep, sometimes faster, his hips snapping against her ass while his fingers worked her c**t relentlessly. Every time she came, he groaned against her neck, his c**k throbbing inside her, but he held back, letting her ride out each climax before starting the next.

At one point he pulled out just enough to slide his c**k along her slit again, nudging her c**t with the head before pushing back inside. The change in angle made her cry out, and he did it again, pulling almost all the way out, rubbing against her swollen c**t, then sinking back in deep. Her p***y was soaked, his c**k sliding easily, the wet sounds filling the quiet room.

She came again with his fingers on her c**t and his c**k buried to the hilt, her whole body shaking as pleasure crashed through her. He followed soon after, hips jerking, c**k pulsing as he filled her again. But he didn’t soften. He stayed inside her, still hard, still moving in those small, grinding thrusts while his fingers kept circling her c**t.

They kept going, him spooning her, c**k nudging deep, hands never leaving her breasts or her c**t. She came so many times the sheets were damp beneath them, her thighs sticky with their combined release. Every orgasm blurred into the next until she was nothing but sensation, his c**k inside her, his fingers on her c**t, his mouth on her neck, the mirror reflecting their tangled bodies in the dark.

By the time the sky outside began to lighten, she was limp in his arms, thoroughly f****d and still trembling from the last orgasm. He was still inside her, c**k half-hard, his fingers resting gently over her swollen c**t. She felt the slow trickle of his c*m between her thighs and smiled, already half-asleep again, knowing they’d wake up and do it all over.