Chapter 73| Playing With Elena R18+

Chapter 73: Chapter 73| Playing With Elena R18+

Elena shrugged the shirt off. The fabric whispered against her skin, catching briefly on the curve of her shoulder before falling away. Reached behind herself with the practiced efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times, and the bra clasp gave with a soft click.

The bra came free. Her massive boobs came free with it. Bouncing with elegance in the few few seconds before settling in stable motion.

Damian’s throat went dry. He’d only seen her in more composed settings. When dressed casually focused on research or in her full lab outfit, but not like this. Not deliberately, not with her standing three feet away and letting him look, really look. The amber light from the single lamp painted the swell of her breasts in gold, shadows pooling beneath them. Her nipples were already tight. Already wanting.

She looked at him with the expression that had replaced the researcher entirely. Something older. Something hungrier.

"Your turn."

The words didn’t register for half a second. Then her palms hit his chest and pushed.

He gasped, actually gasped, a sound he would have been embarrassed by if he’d had the brain space for embarrassment. His back hit the mattress. The springs creaked. She was on him before he could blink, knees straddling his hips, skirt bunched high on her thighs. Her breasts swayed with the movement, heavy and close enough that he could smell the faint lavender of whatever she used in the shower.

She tugged his shirt up. He raised his arms, cooperative, and the fabric slid over his head. Cool air hit his skin. Her mouth hit his clavicle.

"Good boy," she murmured against his collarbone.

Damian moaned "uhmm". Couldn’t help it. Her lips traced a path from his neck to his sternum, tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of his throat. Her teeth grazed his nipple and his hips bucked involuntarily, a shock of pleasure zipping straight to his groin.

Then her hand found him. Through the trousers, just the pressure of her palm against the hard line of his cock and he was already so hard it hurt. Already leaking. She squeezed once, deliberate, and he made a sound that was half-whimper.

"Already this hard because of me?" she asked, voice low. "Naughty boy."

"You can’t blame me." His voice came out rough. "You’re this hot."

The smirk that crossed her face was pure. Elena the researcher’s precision turned to something sharper. She gestured at his waistband with a tilt of her chin that said move.

He lifted his hips, and she pulled. Trousers and boxers in one motion, dragging down his thighs, past his knees, off his ankles. His cock sprang free, flushed dark, a bead of precum already gathered at the tip. The air hit it and he shivered.

Elena didn’t look away. That was the thing, she held his gaze as she wrapped her fingers around him, and the eye contact was somehow more intimate than her hand. She stroked once, base to tip, thumb dragging over the slick head. Damian’s vision went slightly fuzzy at the edges.

"Fuck," he breathed.

She lowered her head. Licked the tip, just the tip and the wet heat of her tongue made his whole body clench. She moaned around him "uhmmm", low and satisfied, like he tasted good. Like she’d been thinking about this.

Her hand moved. Up and down, steady rhythm, grip firm. Damian’s hips found the pace instinctively, pushing up into her fist, and she let him. Let him fuck her hand while she watched his face. Her other hand rested on his thigh, nails digging in just barely, a grounding pressure.

The room shrank to the space between them. To her hand. Her eyes. The little wet sounds of each stroke.

"Stay still," she whispered, and he hadn’t realized he’d been moving harder, faster...

He tried. He really tried. But then her thumb pressed just under the crown, that spot he didn’t even know was a spot, and his back arched off the mattress.

"Elena..."

"I know." She didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. "Let go."

And he did...

Cum shot from his cock in thick pulses, painting her cheek, her chin, the corner of her open mouth. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull back. Let it land and kept stroking him through it until his body trembled with oversensitivity.

"That’s it," she said, soft. Then she pulled her panties down her thighs..soaked, he could see the shine of it, could smell her and kicked them somewhere behind her.

She was only in the skirt now.

Nothing underneath.

Elena rose up on her knees, positioning herself over him. His softening cock twitched, valiant, already trying to rally. She looked down at him with those sharp eyes, flushed and glistening, and he realized with a jolt that she hadn’t come yet. That she was aching for it.

"Damian."

"Yeah?"

She leaned down, hands braced on either side of his head, and let him feel the heat of her bare cunt hovering an inch above his hip.

"You’re going to watch me take what I want. And you’re not going to touch."

She lowered herself.

The first contact was electric, the slick heat of her cunt pressing flat against his belly, a deliberate drag of wetness across his skin. Damian’s breath caught. His hands fisted in the sheets because she’d told him not to touch, and he was already learning that when Elena gave an order, it was worth obeying.

She rocked forward. The length of his cock slid between her folds, not inside her, just resting there, nestled in the heat of her. Her head fell back. A sound escaped her. Throaty, unguarded and she rolled her hips in a slow, grinding circle.

He felt everything. Every slick inch of the glide. The way her thighs tightened around his hips. The slight tremor in her breath as she found the rhythm.

"You feel that?" Her voice was ragged. "How wet I am?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

She lifted up, just enough to position him at her entrance. The head of his cock pressed against her just the tip, just the promise. Her eyes met his, heavy-lidded and fierce.

"Good."

And then she sank down, taking him inside her in one smooth, burning inch.