CHAPTER 5

VELVET BLINDFOLD IN THE PENTHOUSE ELEVATOR PT 2

Before she could respond, Julian’s mouth crashed into hers, hot and demanding.

His tongue pushed past her lips, tasting her, claiming her. She moaned into the kiss and grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands. Buttons popped as she yanked it open.

The fabric tore, Julian growled against her mouth and shoved her dress up to her waist again, his palms rough on her bare ass. He lifted her, pinning her to the wall with his hips. The hard line of his cock pressed between her legs through his pants.

“Fuck, I need you, right now.” he muttered, biting her lower lip.

Clara’s fingers fumbled with his belt. She shoved his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free. It was thick, heavy, the head already slick with pre-cum. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked once, feeling the heat and the way he pulsed in her grip.

Julian hissed. “On your knees.”

She slid down the wall until her knees hit the cool dark wood floor. His cock was right in front of her face, veined and flushed. She looked up at him, eyes still glassy from the elevator. Then she opened her mouth and took him in.

The first taste was salt and skin. She sucked the head, swirling her tongue around it while her hand worked the thick base. Julian groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, not pushing yet, just holding her there. She took him deeper, relaxing her throat, letting him slide over her tongue until her nose brushed the dark hair at his groin.

“Shit, Clara… that mouth.” His voice was rough. “Suck it like you mean it.”

She did.

Hollowing her cheeks, bobbing her head, saliva dripping down her chin. The wet sounds filled the long entry room. Julian’s hips rocked forward, fucking her mouth in shallow thrusts. Every time he hit the back of her throat she moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs tense.

He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock. “Not coming in your mouth yet.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her up, spinning her around so her chest pressed against the wall. He kicked her legs apart. One hand fisted her hair, the other guided his cock to her soaked entrance. He rubbed the head up and down her slit, coating himself in her wetness.

“You’re dripping down your thighs,” he said against her ear. “Such a messy girl for me.”

Then he thrust in hard. One long stroke buried him to the balls. Clara cried out, the stretch burning in the best way. He was big, thick enough that she felt every inch splitting her open.

Julian didn’t give her time to adjust. He started fucking her against the wall in deep, punishing strokes that made her breasts bounce inside her dress and her palms slap against the wood for balance.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed. Her wetness made everything slick and loud. Each thrust pushed a broken moan out of her throat.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder.”

Julian snarled and slammed into her faster. His balls slapped against her clit with every stroke. One hand reached around to rub tight circles on that swollen bundle of nerves.

The pressure built fast and brutal, making Clara’s legs shake. She was close already, the orgasm from the elevator still echoing in her body.

“Come on my cock,” he ordered, voice low and dark. “Let me feel you squeeze me.”

She did. The climax ripped through her, sharp and intense. Her pussy clamped down on him, pulsing, milking his thick shaft. Julian kept thrusting through it, drawing it out until she was whimpering and oversensitive.

He pulled out, cock glistening with her cum. “Bedroom, now.”

He didn’t wait. He grabbed her hand and pulled her deeper into the underground house. The long room opened into a wide bedroom with a massive bed, low lighting, and dark sheets. Clothes were already half off; his shirt hanging open, her dress bunched and twisted. They stripped the rest on the way.

Julian shoved her onto the bed on her back. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and crawled over her, completely naked now. His body was hard, muscled from years of control and discipline. His cock hung heavy between them, still wet from her.

He pushed her thighs wide and lowered his head. The first lick dragged from her entrance to her clit, slow and deliberate. Clara’s back arched off the mattress.

His tongue was hot and firm. He licked her like he was starving, sucking her clit into his mouth, then pushing his tongue inside her, tasting every drop of her orgasm.

“Julian, fuck!” She grabbed his hair, hips grinding against his face.

He groaned against her pussy, the vibration shooting straight to her core. Two fingers slid inside her, curling, stroking that sensitive spot while his mouth worked her clit.

He ate her like he owned her, messy, hungry, sucking and licking until her thighs trembled around his head. Another orgasm built fast. She tried to warn him but it hit before she could speak. She came on his tongue, flooding his mouth, crying out his name.

Julian didn’t stop. He kept licking her through it, gentler now, until she was twitching and pushing at his shoulders.

He rose up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and flipped her onto her stomach. He pulled her hips up so she was on her knees, ass in the air. Then he was inside her again, one smooth thrust that made her moan into the sheets.

This time he fucked her slower, deeper, letting her feel every inch dragging along her walls. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks. The angle hit perfect every time, his cock rubbing that spot that made stars burst behind her eyes.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demanded.

“So full,” she panted. “Your cock is so deep… I can feel you everywhere.”

He reached under her and rubbed her clit again. “Good. Because I’m not pulling out until you come again.”

They stayed like that for long minutes, him pounding into her from behind, the wet slap of their bodies mixing with her moans and his low groans. Clara came a third time, harder than before, her arms giving out so her chest pressed to the bed while her ass stayed up for him.

Julian finally let himself go. He thrust deep and held there, cock pulsing as he came inside her. Hot spurts filled her, leaking out around his shaft when he finally pulled back.

They collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard. But it wasn’t over.

Julian rolled her onto her back and kissed her, slow and deep, letting her taste herself on his tongue. His hand slid between her legs again, fingers pushing his cum back inside her.

“Still not done with you,” he murmured against her lips.

They fucked again on their sides, her leg hooked over his hip. Slower this time, more intimate. His mouth on her neck, sucking marks into her skin.

Her nails were digging into his back. While she whispered filthy things to him between kisses—“You feel so good inside me.” “This pussy was made for my cock.” “Don’t stop.”

Hours passed. They moved from the bed to the wide leather couch in the long room, Clara riding him reverse, her hands braced on his thighs while he gripped her ass and guided her up and down. Then back to the bed, her on top again, facing him this time so he could watch her tits bounce and see her face when she came.

They took breaks only to drink water and touch each other lazily. Julian’s phone appeared at some point. He pulled her close, cock still half-hard inside her, and snapped pictures. One of her straddling him, head thrown back, his hands cupping her breasts. Another with his fingers spreading her pussy lips, showing how swollen and used she looked, his cum leaking out. A close-up of her mouth wrapped around his cock again, eyes looking up at the camera. A shot of her bent over the edge of the bed, his handprints red on her ass.

Clara didn’t care. The forbidden thrill of it made her wetter. She posed for him, spreading her legs wider, letting him capture every compromising angle.

By the time the underground lights automatically dimmed to simulate night, they were exhausted and sticky with sweat and cum. Julian pulled her against his chest, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist. His cock rested soft against her thigh, still slick.

Clara’s body ached in the best places. She traced a finger over the marks she’d left on his chest.

“What happens tomorrow?” she whispered, voice hoarse from moaning his name all night.

Julian kissed the top of her head, then tilted her chin up so she met his eyes. “Tomorrow we will figure it out. But tonight you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

He reached for the phone one last time, snapped a final picture of them tangled together under the sheets, her face pressed to his neck, his hand cupping her breast possessively, then set it aside.

Clara closed her eyes, body heavy with satisfaction and the terrifying new reality of what they’d just done. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat, the taste of him still on her tongue, his cum still warm inside her.