Chapter 95
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, I scarcely had time to breathe before Millicent pressed me back against the wall urgently, her lips founding mine.
Her hands glided up my back with practiced ease, and in a matter of moments, the buttons of my gown gave way to her fingers. Fabric slid from my shoulders like water, pooling at my feet. My corset was next, then my drawers. Her mouth abandoned mine only to trail lower, leaving a fevered path of kisses, nips, and the occasional wicked flick of her tongue along the column of my neck.
Our breaths quickened in tandem. I could feel the heat rising between us. She knew my body better than I did. She always had. She touched with purpose, kissed with knowledge, and moved with an understanding that made me feel both worshipped and undone.
I stood only in my garter and stockings before her while her lips continued their descent with maddening precision. Her hands cupped my breasts, her thumbs teasing my nipples, driving me crazy.
And then there was a sting at my neck.
"Ah," I breathed, the sound half surprise, half aroused.
She had bitten me.
She soothed the bite with her mouth, sucking hard at the tender skin until the pain and pleasure blurred in a most unholy fashion. Then she did it again, on another spot, and a whimper escaped me.
It was impossible to tell whose breathing was more ragged.
I was turned, my chest to the wall, her hands parting my thighs just slightly. She gathered my hair and swept it over my left shoulder, and then her mouth descended upon the nape of my neck.
Just as I thought she might linger a while longer in that exquisite torment of foreplay, I felt a swift, singular movement, and she was within me, fully and without warning.
"Eut!" A sharp cry caught in my throat as I pressed my palm against the wall for balance, the sudden fullness igniting a sting that sent shivers down my spine.
"Haa…" she exhaled, the sound steeped in satisfaction.
Her lips brushed the shell of my ear, and in a whisper that made my knees tremble, she murmured, "forgive me. But I have every intention of fucking your pretty hairless cunt. Hard."
My face grew so hot I feared the flush might reach the very roots of my hair. An entirely unexpected shyness bloomed within me, absurd and breathless, as though this were our first time and not one of countless, exquisite encounters shared behind closed doors.
It was the words that unmoored me. Those vulgar, utterly indecent words. Millicent had never uttered it before, not in the throes of passion, not even in jest. She, who sculpted her speech with the precision of a scholar and the dignity of a duchess, had never allowed such crudeness to pass her lips.
And yet now, from that voice I adored, those words rang out like a match struck in a darkened room.
It was... devastatingly arousing.
She bent me slightly, and I braced myself against the wall. Then she drew back and thrust again, harder.
"Ah!" I gasped, the sound bursting from my lips as she moaned again behind me, as if my cries were the reward she sought.
And then came the rhythm.
She moved with speed and certainty, her body colliding with mine again and again, each motion more relentless than the last. I felt tears prick my eyes from pain and ecstasy. It was too much.
The chamber was filled with the indecent sounds of skin against skin, of her breath and mine tangled in moans, and the unmistakable, lewd sound of our joining.
At some point she had shed her gown. I had not seen her do it. I had noticed nothing but her, inside me, around me, claiming me.
When the pain eclipsed the ecstasy and my legs wavered beneath me, I gasped out her name, my voice a broken tremor.
"M-Milicent… s-slow… down…please…"
But she did not heed the plea.
Instead, she leaned in close and bit down upon my shoulder possessively. Her hips moved with renewed intensity, each motion more forceful than the last.
"I am close," she breathed. "May I finish in your mouth?"
The audacity. The indecency.
Pervert.
And yet, I was no better.
"Yes," I whispered, too breathless to offer more. That one word was all she required.
With a final thrust she withdrew, and I sank to my knees before her with an ease born of familiarity. She guided her cock to my lips, the tip brushing against them with urgency. Her hand curled gently into my hair, her other upon her length, and I watched, spellbound, as she stroked in time with her breath, her gaze never leaving mine. Her hips moved rapidly, feeding what she could past my lips.
She had never done this before. Never taken herself in hand before me so openly, so utterly undone. Her breasts, now fuller again with her regained strength, moved with each motion, each breath, each tremble.
She looked like art. No, more than that. She looked divine.
And then, at last, it came. Warm and pulsing as she cried out with a voice so delicate and beautiful. I received her willingly, swallowed most, though some escaped, running down my chin like a secret. She watched, still breathing heavily.
But it was not over. Of course it was not. For Millicent, one act of intimacy was never sufficient.
"Florence," she murmured. "I wish to see it."
Her delicate fingers collected what remained of her essence where it had spilled. With quiet purpose, she brought it to my lips. I received her.
"To see what?" I asked, once her fingers had slipped from my mouth, the taste of her still lingering.
"To see you bring yourself to pleasure."
There was no part of me that could refuse her. If she wished to watch, then I would perform for her. Gladly.
We moved to the bed. She lay back, her crimson gaze fixed upon me. I straddled her, positioning myself just above her, her exquisite face resting between my thighs. I adjusted my legs, spreading wider, allowing her the full spectacle of her request.
I leaned forward and took the tip of her length into my mouth once more, my fingers trembling slightly with anticipation as I reached down and began to touch my drenched slit with slow strokes.
Her breathing quickened.
Dissatisfied with the pace of my mouth, she arched her hips, guiding herself deeper. The movement only spurred me further. I slid two fingers within and her breath became more erratic.
"Uhm… Florence… ngh…"
The rhythm of her hips grew more urgent, and in turn, so did mine. I slid another finger inside my aching sex, thrusting deeper, wetter. Her soft and lovely moans mingled with the muffled ones I released against her.
She suddenly took hold of my wrist and withdrew my fingers. In the same breath, she pulled me downward toward her waiting lips.
I gasped, half in shock and half in sheer pleasure as her mouth found its destination with unnerving precision. The tip of her length slipped from my mouth as her tongue thrust into my soaking entrance.
My climax came upon me instantly. My body trembled under the weight of such sensation. I tried to rise, to escape the overwhelming tide, but her arms encircled my thighs, holding me firm as she continued her maddening attentions, her tongue gliding and tasting, flickering my clitoris.
"Wait… Millicent…" I whimpered.
But she did not wait.
She reversed our positions, me laying on the bed now. Before I could protest further, her mouth returned to my pearl. She parted my folds and sealed her lips around my hardened bud, sucking hard, sending pleasure coursing through me like fire.
My vision blurred to white. My body arched, trembling uncontrollably, as wave after wave of pleasure broke upon me with no reprieve. I cried out. My heart galloped within my chest.
At last, when my cries turned to trembling whimpers, she released me. I scarcely had time to recover when she brought her lips to mine in a kiss that stole what little breath I had left. Her hands moved, parting my legs once more.
Then she entered me.
There was no warning. Only the sudden, exquisite sensation of her body joining with mine. I shuddered violently from the sheer collision of sensations, my climax still singing through my limbs as her thrust filled me anew.
Her hands gripped my thighs, spreading me further.
"Ah… ungh… hgnh… Florence," she breathed, her voice low and trembling with passion. Each thrust that followed was harder, more desperate, more precise. I could do nothing but cling to the sheets, gasping, sobbing, my eyes wet with tears.