He pushes me flat on my back, spits directly onto my, dripping pussy, the warm saliva mixing with my juices. Then his tongue is inside me.
I cry out, "Oh shit—" as he slides it deep inside my cunt, fucking me with it.
I clutch the bedsheets, pressing both hands over my mouth, but the sounds still escape. His tongue licks over my swollen folds, then drives back inside, teeth grazing my throbbing clit. I canhear his heavy, starving breaths as he devours me like a starving man, sucking my clit hard, thrusting his tongue deep, lapping up every drop of me.
I feel his hands caressing my bare ass as he eats me out and then without warning, he smacks it. The sharp sting makes my pussy clench around his tongue. I scream into my palm. He caresses the burning flesh, then spanks me again. My thighs shake uncontrollably. His breathing grows rougher against my pussy, my cries louder, until he delivers the final slap that shoves me violently over the edge.
I come hard, my is body quaking and convulsing for what feels like minutes, waves of blinding pleasure crashing through me as my pussy gushes against his mouth. He keeps licking and sucking greedily, drinking every spasm until the orgasm slowly fades and I go completely limp beneath him.
His tongue cleans me gently, dragging softly over my oversensitive folds. When he finally lifts his head, his mouth and chin are shiny with my cum. I lower my trembling hands, reach down, and wipe his face with shaky fingers.
"You ruined another dress."
Chapter Fourteen
Luca
"Don't even think about it," she says, pulling the container closer to her side of the bed. "This is mine."
"I don't want your food," I lean in, "I already ate."
She turns red and she stabs a piece of chicken with her chopstick. "Because I'm not sharing."
I lean back against the headboard and look at the ceiling and say nothing. Her dress is somewhere on the floor in two pieces and she is wearing my jacket with nothing under it and it hits her mid-thighs. She is eating Chinese food in my bed with her hair destroyed, her cheeks still flushed and she looks completely unbothered by all of it.
"What do you think my father will do after this?" she asks, without looking up from the container.
I think about Keller watching the photographs surface. His daughter is on her knees, wailing, and his name is attached to the caption. His campaign team should be scrambling. For a man who uses grief as currency watching someone spend it before he can would be a nightmare.
"Leave that to me," I tell her.
I stare at her and I ask. "What was your life like in New York?"
"Are you beginning to care about me?"
I look at her.
"You just asked about my life," she says, by way of explanation.
"I asked a question."
She almost smiles and turns back to her food.
"You know, I killed three people tonight," I say conversationally. "Most people would at least flinch around me after that."
"True." She chews thoughtfully. "But father kills people too."
I look at her.
She glances at me and her eyes catch my expression and she laughs. "Are you surprised? That the brainless rich girl knows that her Daddy dearest kills?"
"I know my father isn't a good man," she says, and the lightness in her voice is doing a job, I can hear it working.
"I know he has done his share of evil." She pokes at the container. "I'm not naive about what he is. I'm just naive about what I am to him, apparently. There's a difference."
"Are you scared of me?" I ask without knowing why. But I know that I want to hear her answer.
"I was scared." She looks at me directly. "I am scared of you. You're terrifying. But you won't kill me. Not yet." She picks up her water. "Probably not ever, if I'm reading things correctly. So the fear is manageable."
