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She screamed out at the feeling of him filling her, all defiance melting away into pleasure as her instincts took over and she began to ride him like she had not a care in the world.
“Oh, God! Y-You feel so good baby!” she moaned, her hands leaving their spot on his stomach to slide up her body and roughly fondle her breasts through the fabric of her dress as she lost herself. “Oh, God… Oh Jesus… Oh fuck! Luke... yes!”
Watching his lover's display through half-closed eyes, Luke wanted to chuckle, but the sudden echo of a creaking floorboard brought the cold realisation of their present situation crashing down on top of him like a cold rain.
“You’re being too loud Princess… mmm… the whole damn city is gonna hear us,” he whispered. As much as he enjoyed the sounds of her moans, he couldn't take the risk of any lingering goons getting wind of where they were and barging in. Yet despite his words, he couldn't resist increasing the speed of his motions.
“But… you're… so… big! Oh... God, yes!” Sophie cried, her eyes shutting tight as she felt him increase the tempo of his thrusts, making her body bounce on his with a wild abandon that filled the room with the sounds of their bodies slapping.
Irked by her lack of concern, Luke wanted to reprimand her further, but all he could muster was a long moan as he felt the way her impossibly tight pussy was massaging every centimetre of his cock as it slid up and down him with more vigour. Soon, even his reservations about moaning aloud had dissipated and lost in the fog of pleasure. He couldn't remember why they had hidden up in the suite in the first place. Freed from those shackles, he was now more than happy to encourage the wanton girl as he hungrily watched her fondle her breasts.
“Oh yes,” she moaned, arching her breasts into her grasp as the pleasure seemed to double every time he was fully encased within her. “Oh, yes… yes... baby… let me ride you… let me fuck you. You’re so hard… so big… uh…. harder baby... fuck me harder! Make me cum!”
“Oh... that's it Sophie! Ride me Princess,” he groaned, matching his pleasure-enthralled lover thrust for thrust, timing his motions to catch her on the downstroke. “Yeah, you like my dick inside you don't you Princess?” A small, knowing smile played across his lips as he watched her roughly grope herself. Oh, how he ached to be the one touching her, but instead he had to enjoy the show, watching intently as they succumbed to her palms like clay while she bounced upon him, bringing them both closer to a much-needed release.
“Oh yeah, it's so hard! So fucking hard! Uhhhh!” she cried, yet despite the clenching of her inner muscles, her lover’s thrusts never faltered, and she continued to bounce up and down on him with a fervid passion. “Fuck my pussy... oh yes… baby, please fuck me harder! Harder! Oh, God!”
Lost in depths of their passion, neither noticed that the bed's wooden headboard was now slamming loudly against the wall, its thick timber frame proving to be no match for the power of the lovers coupling as the Underworld Princess bounced her lover’s immense column with all her might. Like a blazing inferno, she could feel the pressure building in her abdomen, signalling her coming climax even as she desperately tried to hold off the massing pleasure. However, it was like trying to block a river with only a hand full of stones and she was helpless to prevent herself from becoming swept up in its current.
“Ugh! Fuck you feel so good Princess!” Luke groaned, his hips lifting off the bed to meet her on the way down with an upwards stroke of his own. His brain was overloaded as his every sense tried desperately to process the scene that was playing out before his eyes. Not only was he breathing in the potent cocktail of her scent mixed with the tangy aroma of sex, but the sight of his beautiful Princess riding his cock like she was Annie Oakley almost finished him. “Are you gonna cum, baby?”
“Oh yes! Fuck! Oh, God! Oh God! Oh! Oh! Oh fuck! Ohhhhhh!” she cried, her teeth clenching as fresh tides of ecstasy crashed into her body. She couldn't think. The feeling of having him inside her alone made her delirious, and the fast pace he had set was enough to make her lose her mind. Her orgasm was building. All it took was one last thrust, and then a blinding light exploded behind her eyelids.
It came upon her so fast and hard, she hadn't been prepared for its onslaught. Lost in the pleasure, her head snapped back and her nails bit into the skin of her breasts as quaking tremors ripped through her like a hail of lightning bolts.
"Yes! Yes! Ohhh! Oh fuck me! Ohhh! Yes! I'm cumming! Oh fuck! I’m cumming!"
Hearing her slurred cries, Luke couldn't help but groan in delight as he felt her inner walls contract around his manhood in a wash of her cream. It felt like she was trying to milk his shaft dry, and the pleasure it stirred within him as he thrust to the hilt was incomprehensible. Yet despite all his strength, Luke could only muster the power to resist her for two more quick thrusts before following her over the peak. With a deep shout, he filled the room with the sounds of his surrender and a river of his seed exploded into her waiting cavern.
Starved of energy, the couple lacked even the strength to speak and fell together on the bed without a word said. Enveloping the girl in his arms, Luke pulled her close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Princess Sophie.”
The shower stall was thick with steam, the hum of the motor reverberating through the walls as fat beads of condensation ran down the natural brown stone tiles and fogged glass door. Tipping her head back into the spray and sweeping the sodden, honey-coloured tresses from her eyes, Mina Carring uttered a low, throaty moan as the scalding water pelted her naked body, washing the stresses of the day away.
She longed for moments like these. After a long day posing for cameras and listening to photographers and directors screaming at each other like toddlers contesting for their favourite toy, there was nothing more relaxing than a scalding-hot shower.
And it really hadn’t been her day.
Even from the outset, nothing had seemed to go to plan. It all started with her sleeping through her alarm and oversleeping by more than half an hour. Then the coffee maker had died mid-brew, forcing her to start the day without her vital morning fix. Later, matters were only made worse by the combination of morning rush hour and a minor accident that had left her stranded in a long, snaking queue of traffic down Route 405, more than an hour after she was supposed to meet with her agent for a late breakfast. Finally, there was that debacle of a photo-shoot.
While few, knowledgeable individuals would describe the life of a model and actress as easy, that one shoot had just about taken the biscuit. It should have been so simple, so easy. Just one shoot, little more than a day’s work, modelling a new fashion line for a new European branded clothing store that would be opening on Montana Avenue sometime in the summer.
There had just been one problem. The French photographer commissioned for the shoot considered himself a born-again Guy Bourdin, but seemed only to bear a striking resemblance to a toad, and had insisted on having the natural lighting and mood of every shot to be exact to his vision. Yet there were not enough hours in the day or positions of the sun, and in the end, an afternoon’s shoot had to be spread over three days. Today had been the last and was an easy two hours posing on a rock rising out of the surf and walking across the deserted stretch of beach. However, it seemed Pierre the Toad had woken up on the wrong side of his fishpond and before she had even had a chance to change, he was screaming that ‘this was wrong’ or ‘that was out of place’.
In the end, chewing her bottom lip was all she could do to stop herself from telling him just where he could stick his precious vision.
Despite the heat of the shower, Mina shuddered at the memory. She’d so desperately wanted to leave, to quit and go on with her day the way she’d been planning to for some weeks. She wanted to go out to Griffith Observatory with Mark and their parents for lunch before taking them on an expensive shopping trip down La Brea Avenue. After all, it wasn’t every day her little stepbrother turned 21. Yet the restrictions in her contract forced her to finish the job, regardless of her prior engagements or that slimy, self-aggrandising toad’s attitude problems.
Now it was up to her to make it up to Mark.
Reluctantly, she hit the button to shut off the water before throwing open the glass door. Wet and dripping, but feeling fully refreshed, she let the little rivulets of water run off her before stepping out from beneath the dripping shower head and onto the fluffy white bath mat that encircled the stall. Courtesy of the shower, her spacious ensuite was warm and misty, but a single open window hinted at the tiniest chill. Her skin prickled at the delicious contrast as she took a towel off the heated rail and patted herself down. Vigorously towelling her hair with one hand, she opened the door to her connecting master bedroom and sauntered inside.
Spacious and airy, she’d had its walls painted a passionate shade of crimson shortly after purchasing the property and furnished it with fittings of deep oak, making the room feel more intimate. Shafts of deep red light filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains to flood the room with a natural illumination as the sun sank beneath the distant horizon. However, it was the south-facing windows and outer balcony, offering splendid views overlooking Beverly Hills, that made this her favourite room in the house.
She had already selected her clothes for tonight from the walk-in-wardrobe and had neatly laid them out across the queen-size bed’s black Egyptian cotton sheets. Forgoing underwear, she dropped the towel unceremoniously onto the floor and tugged her black slim jeans up her long, willowy legs and over her buttocks. She deftly fastened the buttons, then pulled a powder-blue, long-sleeved, babydoll-style top over her head. Though not tight or revealing, the thin fabric moulded to her still damp skin to leave nothing to the imagination. It made her feel naughty, and the thought of Mark seeing her like this ignited a warm tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach.
No! Stop it. That’s not why you’re going to see him.
