The yacht rocked gently beneath us, a cradle for the storm we’d unleashed. My body felt heavy, limbs leaden from the release that had torn through monts ago. Cum still leaked from Isabella’s swollen pussy, dripping onto my chest in warm, sticky trails as she hovered above my face. Her thighs frad my head like marble pillars, glistening with sweat and her own release. The scent of her—musk, salt, and the faint jasmine from her perfu—filled my lungs, intoxicating, overwhelming.
"More," she repeated, voice low and commanding, not a request. Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back so I had no choice but to look up at her. Those dark eyes burned with sothing feral. "You think one ti is enough for , Welheim?"
I tried to laugh, but it ca out hoarse. "Bella... give a man a second to—"
"No." She lowered herself without warning, pressing her dripping cunt directly against my mouth. The taste of us exploded across my tongue—her sweetness mixed with the sharp salt of my own seed. I groaned into her, the vibration making her shudder. Instinct took over; my hands gripped her thighs, pulling her down harder as my tongue plunged inside her, lapping at the ss we’d made.
She rode my face with the sa ruthless rhythm she’d used on my cock. Hips rolling, grinding, chasing friction against my nose, my lips, my chin. Wet sounds filled the cabin—obscene, slick, relentless. Her clit swelled against my tongue each ti she dragged herself forward. When I sucked it between my lips, she cried out, thighs clamping around my ears.
"Like that," she hissed. "Don’t you dare stop."
I couldn’t have if I wanted to. Oxygen beca secondary; all that mattered was the flood of her arousal coating my face, the way her body trembled each ti I flicked her clit or thrust my tongue deep. She ca again—suddenly, violently—hips jerking as another gush of squirt sprayed across my chin and neck. I swallowed what I could, the rest running down my throat, my chest, soaking the silk sheets beneath us.
She didn’t lift off. Instead she kept grinding through the aftershocks, saring her release across my lips until I was drenched. Only when her breathing steadied did she slide down my body, leaving a wet trail over my sternum, my stomach.
My cock, traitor that it was, had already begun to harden again. The sight of her—hair wild, lips swollen, nipples tight—had throbbing despite the exhaustion.
She noticed. A wicked smile curved her mouth. "Look at you. Still hungry even after I drained you."
"Isabella..." My voice cracked. "You’re going to kill ."
"Good." She wrapped her hand around my length, stroking once, twice—firm, possessive. "Then you’ll die happy."
She positioned herself above again, guiding my cock to her entrance. This ti she sank down slowly, deliberately, letting feel every inch of her slick heat as she stretched around . When she bottod out, she stayed there, rolling her hips in tight circles, torturing with the pressure.
I hissed through my teeth. "Fuck... slow down."
"No." She leaned forward, palms braced on my chest, nails digging crescents into my pecs. "You wanted tonight. You teased on that deck for hours. Now you get all of ."
Then she began to move—slow at first, long, punishing strokes that dragged her walls along my entire length. Each ti she lifted, the cool air kissed my wet shaft; each ti she slamd back down, heat swallowed whole. The contrast drove insane.
Her pace increased. Faster. Harder. The bed creaked beneath us, protesting the violence. Her breasts bounced with every downward thrust, nipples brushing my chest. I tried to thrust up to et her, but she pinned my hips with her weight, controlling everything.
"You’re mine tonight," she panted. "Say it."
I groaned. "Yours."
"Louder."
"Yours, Isabella—fuck—yours!"
She rewarded by clenching hard around my cock, milking until stars burst behind my eyelids. Another orgasm ripped through her; she threw her head back, screaming my na as she squirted again, the hot rush soaking my groin, my thighs, the sheets. The sight of it—her body shaking, pussy pulsing visibly around —nearly made co again, but she slowed just enough to deny .
"Not yet," she whispered, voice ragged. "I want more."
She flipped positions without warning, pushing onto my back fully and straddling reverse. The view—her perfect ass, the way her pussy gripped as she sank down again—was devastating. She rode facing away, hands braced on my thighs, rolling her hips in filthy figure-eights.
I watched, srized, as my cock disappeared inside her over and over. Each ti she lifted, creamy white streaks of my earlier release coated my shaft. She reached between her legs, rubbing her clit in furious circles while she fucked , chasing another peak.
When she ca this ti, she ground down hard, ass cheeks pressed flush against my pelvis, and squirted so forcefully it sprayed across my stomach in rhythmic pulses. The sensation—hot, wet, endless—pushed dangerously close.
"Isabella... I can’t—"
"You can." She spun around again, facing now, eyes glassy with lust. "One more. Give one more."
She rode with brutal precision—short, sharp bounces that battered my cockhead against her cervix. Her nails raked down my chest, leaving angry red lines. Pain and pleasure blurred until I couldn’t tell them apart.
My balls drew up tight. The pressure built, unbearable. She felt it, clenched deliberately around .
"Co," she ordered. "Fill again."
I shattered.
The orgasm hit like a freight train—white-hot, blinding. I roared her na as I pumped rope after rope deep inside her, hips jerking uncontrollably. She kept moving through it, milking every drop, drawing it out until I was shaking, oversensitive, gasping.
When it finally ended, I collapsed, chest heaving, vision swimming. Every muscle trembled. My cock twitched weakly inside her, spent beyond reason.
Isabella, though... she was glowing. Cheeks flushed, skin slick with sweat, eyes bright with triumph. She leaned down, kissed slow and deep, tasting herself and on my tongue.
Then she lifted off with a wet sound, my cum imdiately leaking out, dripping onto my softening length. She scooped so with two fingers, brought them to her lips, and sucked them clean while holding my gaze.
"Not done," she murmured, voice husky. "Not even close."
She slid down my body, mouth hovering over my oversensitive cock. I whimpered—actually whimpered—when her tongue flicked the head.
"Isabella... rcy..."
She smiled against my skin, wicked and beautiful.
"rcy?" she echoed. "No, caro mio. We’re just getting started."
Her lips closed around .
The yacht kept sailing into the night, carrying us deeper into whatever madness we’d begun.
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