LONDON'S POINT OF VIEW
I knew she had enjoyed herself the last time I did it, and honestly, I had loved it. Her pussy was so sweet I could have eaten it all day.
I thought I saw another flash of hesitation in her eyes, but instead, they lit up with excitement. She masked the emotion instantly, but not fast enough for me.
Eat my pussy, Crewe.
I leaned over her, gripping her hair before kissing her softly. My tongue transferred some scotch into her mouth, the amber liquid sliding over both our tongues. I exhaled into her mouth, feeling her sharp nipples press against my chest. Now that I had her lips, I didn't want to let go. She kissed incredibly well.
Yes, Buttercup.
I pulled back and got down on my knees on the hardwood floor. I draped her legs over my shoulders and devoured her, sucking her clit and tasting her perfect sweetness.
At first, she stayed silent, but soon she was unable to hide her pleasure. She groaned, digging her fingers into my hair. Her back arched and she tilted her hips, giving me full access to her intimacy.
I could have done this to her all night, and I was tempted to jerk off while continuing to lick and kiss her. She had a divine slit, one I wanted to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But my cock was impatient to be inside, to stretch that tight little pussy.
I sucked her clit harder before standing up to my full height. My arms grabbed the back of her knees, spreading them wide. The tip of my cock found her opening on its own. My head felt her wetness without even sinking inside her.
She wanted it just as badly as I did.
"Buttercup, tell me to fuck you.
Her hands gripped my wrists.
Fuck me, Crewe.
Her lips were swollen from my kiss, and her nipples were still hard as diamonds. Her grip on my wrists tightened in anticipation.
My cock plunged into her, sliding slowly through her wetness and tightness. I sank deep, feeling her walls squeeze around me. Her body was quietly acclimating to me, adjusting piece by piece to swallow every inch of my long, thick cock.
She was just as good as the last time.
I danced inside her softly, groaning from the back of my throat as I conquered the woman beneath me. When she first became my captive, I had found her ordinary. But now, I found her exceptional. She was the kind of woman I never thought I'd have the pleasure of meeting before she walked into my life. I had never bent for anyone, never gone back on my word, nor softened a punishment out of compassion.
She made me do strange things.
My hands left her knees and moved toward her tits. I fondled them as I slid slowly inside her. My cock loved being buried in her pussy. I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life.
Her tits were almost more perfect than her pussy. So round and firm. I ran my thumbs over her hard nipples. My eyes searched hers as I gave her my cock again and again. I could feel her juices dripping down to the base of my member and my balls, which slapped against her ass. I didn't even have to lube my cock before penetrating her.
I wanted to pound her with all my might, to wreck her as violently as possible. But now that we were swaying in rhythm, I liked the slowness, the sensuality of our bodies' movements. I liked feeling every single ounce of her, moving slowly enough to savor every second. For the first time in my life, I didn't want a brutal fuck.
I wanted to do this.
The quiet sounds she made grew louder and louder. Her gasps became moans, which in turn became little screams. Her breasts bounced every time I thrust into her, moving with the momentum.
You're fucking beautiful, Buttercup.
I brought one hand to her throat, squeezing that vulnerable area. I felt her pulse hammering furiously beneath her skin. Her blood beat hard in her veins, racing through her body. I loved pinning her down under my iron grip.
I leaned over her and kissed her neck, deepening the angle of my hip thrusts, and my cock reached the zone that drove all women crazy. My pelvis rubbed against her clit, stimulating it. I brought my hand to the back of her neck, gripping it firmly.
Tell me to cum inside you.
Her mouth moved against mine as I kissed her.
Cum inside me...
I accelerated the pace, pounding her against the mattress. My cock sank deep into her with every thrust of my hips, and I braced myself for her explosion. I could feel it coming in her gasps and moans. I had fucked enough women to know when they were about to cum. I tried to calm myself while waiting, knowing she too was right on the edge of the cliff.
Cum for me.
She bit her lip in the sexiest way possible, contracting around me.
"Oh my God..."
Her hands traveled up to my chest and neck, until they cupped my face. She brought her mouth close to mine and we breathed as one, while her moans grew, turning almost into screams.
"Crewe..."
I didn't even need to tell her to say my name.
"It's coming, Buttercup.
I had fantasized about this moment countless times. I wanted to fill her pussy with so much cum that she wouldn't be able to go anywhere without dripping onto the floor. I wanted her to feel full of me for the rest of the day.
She was halfway
to her orgasm, her nails dug into my skin as she clung to me.
Crewe...
My cock swelled just before the release. I drove in deep, wanting to deposit my cum as far inside her as possible. When the wave of pleasure swept through my body, I almost forgot to breathe. I groaned and crushed my mouth against hers, feeling the warmth spread through my entire body. I came long and hard, reveling in every instant of the exquisite sensation. It was too divine; I felt like the master of the world.
Even after I finished, I stayed inside her. I never wanted to leave the warmth of this woman. She was the best lover I had ever known, which was saying a lot, because I had had sexual experiences with some of the most beautiful and skilled women in the world. But London had a certain *je-ne-sais-quoi* that satisfied my darkest, most burning desires.
I slowly pulled my cock out of her pussy and watched my seed drip from her soaked folds. I admired my beautiful work, my conquest.
On your hands and knees.
Covered in sweat and out of breath, she stared at me, surprised.
Did you think I was finished?
Ariel and I had dinner together at my favorite restaurant in Scotland, The Kitchin*. They served Scottish dishes prepared with French culinary techniques, and it was one of my favorite spots in Edinburgh. Since Ariel didn't eat much, the choice of restaurant made no difference to her. Her determination to stay thin baffled me, because she was beautiful enough to be whatever weight she wanted. Personally, I liked women with curves. London had gorgeous hips, a perfectly arched waist, and sublime breasts.
I ordered the scallops, and Ariel ordered the halibut. It was hard to avoid seafood when you were this close to the North Sea, where fishermen caught their fresh catch that very morning.
We talked business, as usual. We didn't bring up personal matters very often. There were more important things we needed to discuss. Managing two massive enterprises—one criminal and one private—consumed all our time.
We drank wine and ate our food, discussing the new shipments of scotch to be sent to the United States. They had their own variety of whiskey, called bourbon, but most restaurants preferred to keep both in stock.
Our little scheme with Joseph seems to be working.
She swirled her wine before taking a sip.
The scheme had done more than just work.
Yes. She is very receptive.
I heard about that.
Ariel gave me a knowing look, the corner of her mouth curling into a smile. Despite the fact that she didn't like London, she didn't speak ill of her in my presence.
So, is she finally submissive?
Absolutely.
When I told her to do something, she did it. Sometimes an expression crossed her gaze—a deep irritation regarding her situation. But she obeyed me anyway. Her inner struggle turned me on.
"Is she coming with you to the dinner on Saturday, then?"
I stared at my wine before answering.
Not sure.
Maybe you should take someone else. Josephine will be there.
I finished my glass of wine before setting it back down on the table.
I don't care if she's there. I won't miss an opportunity to speak to Her Majesty. That woman is nothing to me.
Ariel looked at me with a cold expression that suggested she didn't believe me.
I still think you should take another girl. The cuter she is, the better.
London was the definition of the word cute. Her lovely green eyes would light up the room instantly. In a designer satin dress, she would be breathtaking. Everyone would see her on my arm and wonder where I had found her. She carried herself like a queen, and I would look like a king by her side.
London is coming with me. I'm sure everything will go well.
Ariel raised an eyebrow.
Are you sure about that?
Yes.
She was under my control.
Because you are spoiled for choice.
It was true—I knew tons of gorgeous, interesting, and intelligent girls.
She is first on my list.
Ariel tilted her head to the side.
Is she your toy, or something more, Crewe?
My toy, I replied immediately. You have nothing to worry about.
She seemed to believe me, as she looked away.
Very well. Because she doesn't suit you at all. She's a dirty American tramp. She knows nothing about manners, doesn't know how to behave like a lady, and doesn't have a single fucking ounce of Scottish blood in her.
Ariel's discrimination had always amused me.
For a lady, you swear a lot.
Because I'm with you,she reminded me.
And I don't look Scottish either. Who knows what she is?
You understand me, Crewe,she said before taking a sip of wine. Don't pretend you don't. If you want children one day, you can't just choose anyone. You have history in your blood. You have scotch in your blood. Don't fall in love with an American bitch.
📌📌📌📌 So, tell me in the comments:
👉👉👉 Do you want London to fall in love with Crewe... or do you want her to escape?