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The noises toppled out, a rhapsodic strum of music as I licked through her. Lapping at those sounds, the kiss escalated. Each piston mimicked the thrust of hips, the pulse of sex.
I worked my jaw into her, my tongue slipping in and out of her mouth, making sure she felt that same decadent sensation. I didn’t care if I wasn’t inside her, because she wasn’t leaving here without knowing a hint of what I could do to her, how far I could reach. Thus, I speared in so deeply, so thoroughly, making sure this prudent princess felt every pitch of my tongue not just between her lips, but between her thighs.
Briar moaned into my mouth. Strapped around me, her thighs shook. She grabbed my face and bore down, her lips clinging to mine.
Her waist moved on instinct. She resumed those torturous thrusts, innocently yet viciously done, swiftly accomplished. The princess whimpered from the friction, and I seethed into her mouth. My waist connected with hers in a teasing, suggestive cadence, not quite fucking through our clothes but rather a close mimicry of it, the prelude enough to make a severe impact.
Mud streaked our limbs, our arms, our hands. Dirt stained her cheeks and chin, my neck and jaw.
Our nostrils flared, and our tongues went wild. In the dark, fed up and pent up, I couldn’t tell anymore if we were kissing or fighting. Though, I hardly gave a shit. All I cared about was making her feel it—every ounce of painful pleasure.
Tremors ratcheted over Briar’s spine. All the whilst, she welcomed my greedy pulls at her mouth, swept her tongue with my own.
But when that wasn’t enough, I wrapped my mouth around that tongue and sucked. I drew on the tip, tugging as if it were that delicate bud between her legs.
Her moan splintered against me, as though chipped apart.
Yes.
I wouldn’t release her until I had drained that precious sound for all it was worth, until I’d tasted every bit of it, until she was mine.
Mine.
Retreating, I nipped on her lower lip, seeking to punish her for this turn of events. Yet another moan sent me reeling. Those forbidden hips kept grinding into me, her undergarments dry-rutting against my pants, her cunt skidding over my cock.
Again.
On a groan, I grabbed Briar’s right knee, hitched it over my waist, and hauled her forward. And my kiss slammed back into her. Our mouths crashed, mine clenching hers, our tongues snaring together.
The frail material under her skirt did little to obscure the shape of her folds as she bounded on my lap. My erection lifted, so hard it might as well be forged of stone. Even less substantial, my pants could have been made of paper, for all they concealed. My cock shoved into them, its length and girth rendering the closed garment practically obsolete.
I hardly cared. Nor did Briar, who swatted her hips. The outline of her pussy flung at my cock, the wet line of her body skating against the rigid stem of mine. Repeatedly, I reeled her into me at a measured pace, and our mouths layered as we rammed our waists against each other, hot jolts sprinting to the pome of my erection with each pass. The column traced her clit through her drawers, enough for me to feel the stud.
I groaned, licked into her, sloped my hips into that spot. With a tilt of my waist, the outline of my tip probed the compact bit of flesh.
Briar gave a cry, the sound fraying across my tongue. A curse strayed across my tongue but never made it out, for my mouth clung to hers. Instead, I chased that sound with more punctures of my hips, hitting her from below and tasting her moans from above.
Embers tracked the width of my shoulder blades. My sac throbbed against the warmth of her cunt.
The kiss deepened in cadence to our waists, which ran rampant, unable to stop, unwilling to let go. I whisked Briar against me, and she threw herself into it. Her fingers charged through my hair, and her mouth dropped heady noises into mine.
Aye, Your Highness. Take what your jester gives you.
All that separated her pussy and my cock were two panels of thin fabric. Yet how clearly I felt the contours of Briar, her walls dampening the textile, and how deftly she felt me thickening for that wetness. How trivial our clothes were compared to this.
I could kiss her until we both passed out. I could make her come whilst doing so.
With a growl, I shackled my hold on her ass and plowed her into me. Briar chanted, kissing me back, riding me back. Her fingers left my hair and splayed over my jaw, her frame abrading my torso.
I hummed. My tongue speared through her lips as I ground my hips between her thighs.
Thus, all wicked fucking hell broke loose.
Our mouths, tongues, and hips bucked. We threw our waists and lips into it, into the mayhem, and—
And like a bolt of lightning, Briar ripped her mouth from mine.
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