Chapter 30 : 🌶️🌶️ Letting go
I open the door.
I don’t say a word.
No excuse, no explanation. I step in like this room belongs to me. Like there’s no question about it.
Emma’s there—naked, still wet, her back to me. The towel barely clinging to her hips, hair dripping down her spine, her back still shivering from the shower.
She startles.
Emma: “Brice! It’s taken!”
I close the door behind me, slowly. My eyes drag over her, and I don’t hold back. I scan every inch of her—her ass, her thighs, her shoulders, the soft curve of her lower back. Every droplet sliding across her skin fucks with my head.
Two seconds.
Just two seconds where I say nothing.
Then I speak, low and steady:
Me: “They left.”
She turns halfway—but too late.
I move.
I’m on her in a second.
Emma: “Heyyy!”
My hand clamps around her neck. Hard. I shove her against the tiled wall, her back smacks the cold surface, and her breath catches instantly.
I’m not thinking anymore. I’m just acting.
I grab the towel and rip it away in one sharp pull. It falls at her feet. She doesn’t even try to catch it.
I drop to my knees behind her. My hands grip her hips, and I drag her toward my mouth.
And then—no warning—I bury my tongue between her cheeks.
Emma: “Aaah… Brice…”
Her back arches instantly, tits pressed against the fogged-up mirror. She grabs the sink just to stay upright. Her skin’s warm, her scent hits me like a drug.
I bite her ass, lick her without holding back, pulling her hips open as far as they’ll go.
My tongue slides up, slow and dirty, right along her slit—until I reach her ass. And I don’t stop there.
I lick it. Deep. Slow. Thorough.
I circle it, press into it, work every inch with my tongue. Her skin’s hot, still wet. Her reaction is immediate.
Emma: “Aaah… haa… fuck…”
Me: “Fuck… your ass, Emma…”
I bite her cheek, then dive back in. Her body trembles. Her fingers scrape along the sink. She’s barely holding it together.
She moans loud, her voice cracks in the tight space.
Emma: “Mmmh… haa…”
I’ve never been this hard. My cock’s throbbing inside my pants—painful. But I don’t touch it. I don’t want to waste a second. I just want to devour her.
I lift my head slightly, lips wet, eyes locked on the curve of her back.
Me: “When you were in the shower… did you think I’d come taste you?”
She trembles under me, gripping the sink tighter.
Me: “Yeah? You rinsed yourself off knowing I’d be down here eating you out, didn’t you?”
Her answer’s a whisper, broken by pleasure:
Emma: “Yes… I thought about it…”
A growl rips out of me. Low. Raw. Animal.
I stand up fast, slide my hands under her thighs and lift her in one motion, no warning.
She lets out a surprised yelp, and I sit her straight on the sink, her ass barely resting, back hitting the mirror.
She doesn’t have time to react—my hands are already spreading her legs, rough, no hesitation.
And I dive right back in.
My tongue attacks—no gentleness.
I lick her, eat her, devour her like she’s mine and mine only.
My hands keep her wide open, locked in place, fingers digging into her hips so she can’t move an inch.
She gasps, head falling back, hands gripping the porcelain. She’s slipping, fighting for balance, but she gives up fast. Surrenders.
I look up at her body for a second, open and shaking in front of me, and mutter between breaths:
Me: “That smell… your shampoo…”
I close my eyes for a beat.
Me: “I’ve smelled it so many times… never like this…”
I look up again. She’s watching me, lips parted, too breathless to speak.
Me: “Now I can’t smell it without getting hard.”
Emma: “Pervert…”
I go right back between her legs, my tongue tracing down to her clit, teasing it, flicking it, sucking it into my mouth—slow at first, then faster.
I suck. I press. I let go. Then take it again.
She’s losing it. Her hand slams against my head, maybe trying to stop me—maybe trying to pull me in deeper.
I climb back up her body, kissing her belly on the way, my teeth grazing her skin, until I reach her breasts.
I cup them, lick them, suck them—take a nipple into my mouth and pinch it between my lips. It hardens instantly.
She moans louder now, her voice raw, less controlled.
Emma: “Hnnn… fuck Brice… it feels so good…”
I grin against her skin.
Me: “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Then I drop back down.
Right between her legs again like I’m starving for her.
I hold her, eat her without pause, without mercy, without letting her breathe.
And then her voice jumps—sudden and high.
Emma: “Haaa… Brice… Brice… I’m gonna—”
Her legs tremble, her hands slip, her head slams back into the mirror.
And then she explodes.
Emma: “HAA—AANNNN… BRI—IIICE… aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!”
Her voice breaks into a mess of moans and screams, every sound bursting out of her like she’s unraveling from the inside. She cries out my name, raw and loud, her throat caught between shock and ecstasy.
And I stay right there, tongue pressed against her, not moving until she’s done shaking.
I finally stand, breathing hard. My chest hammers like a goddamn drill. My tongue is soaked in her taste, my hands still trembling.
Emma’s still spread open on the sink, panting, tiny tremors rolling through her.
But her eyes move.
Locked.
They drop straight to my shorts—to the huge bulge still twitching under the fabric. She doesn’t hesitate. She slides down from the sink, drops to her knees in front of me.
Her knees hit the tile hard. She doesn’t care.
She yanks down my shorts in one swift move.
Me: “Fuck, Emma—”
But she already has me in her hand. My cock springs out—hard, throbbing, slick with need.
And then… she goes for it.
Her tongue licks me from base to tip, slow and messy, dragging a long, wet slurp up the length. She circles the head, teases it, presses it against her palate with a soft mmh.
She doesn’t look up.
She’s too busy.
Then she swallows me whole.
SCHLOK—Mmmh—
Her mouth sucks, tight and wet, pulling me in with a force that nearly knocks me off my feet.
Her spit’s already everywhere. She pumps, sucks, fills the room with filthy, wet sounds.
GLK— GLRK— SCHLUP— haa—
I groan deep, head tilting back, jaw clenched:
Me: “Hnnn… fuck…”
But I don’t lose control. I won’t.
I grab her hair in one sharp grip, fingers tight in her mess of curls. I yank her head back—slow.
Her mouth peels off my cock with a wet, obscene pop:
PLUUOP—
A thick string of spit stretches from her lips to the head, shiny, sticky, until it breaks and lands on her chest.
She moans, breathless:
Emma: “Haaah…”
Still on her knees, lips glossy, eyes wild. Already wrecked.
I stare down at her, hand still in her hair, my breath ragged, eyes locked.
Me: “You think you’re in control?”
I keep my grip tight. Then, with one brutal thrust, I slam my hips forward.
She chokes on it, her throat swallowing me all at once.
GLRK— GLLMPH—
She can’t pull back. I don’t let her.
I hold her head still. My hips drive forward, harder, faster.
I fuck her.
With her mouth.
No breaks, no mercy.
SCHLOK— SCHLUP— GLK— Aaah—
Her breathing’s wrecked. Spit’s dripping everywhere. She’s hot, tight, seconds from breaking.
I growl through my teeth, voice shaky, rough:
Me: “You’re perfect like this… on your knees… mouth full of my cock…”
She tries to regain control.
Her hands slide up my thighs, fingers teasing, her pace slows on purpose—sucking me in deeper, cheeks hollowing around me.
Fuck.
Me: “Aaah… shit…”
My head falls back. A groan rips out of me, raw and animal.
Then she goes too far.
She wraps her fingers around my shaft. Starts stroking me. Slow. While still sucking.
My vision blurs.
Me: “Hnnn… fuck… I’m gonna—”
I clutch her head tight, fingers digging in—and slam deep.
GLK—!
My hips smack against her face, my whole body locks up.
And I come. Hard. Straight down her throat.
Me: “Emma…!”
She moans, caught between surprise and the heat flooding her mouth.
I tremble, every muscle clenched, breath ragged. Thick, hot spurts fill her. I don’t stop. I hold her there, cock buried, her throat pulsing around me.
Then slowly—so slowly—I let go of her head. Step back just enough.
My cock slides out of her mouth with a wet, slick noise, still hard, soaked in spit.
She stays kneeling. Eyes hazy. Face flushed. Mouth open. Dripping.
Emma slowly straightens up, still on her knees. Her hands tremble slightly as she grabs the towel near her, hugging it to her chest as she rises unsteadily to her feet. Her breath still ragged, uneven.
I’m standing there. Frozen. My mind spinning from what we just did.
We lock eyes. A few seconds pass.
Stunned.
Wrecked by what we just lived.
Silence.
The kind of silence that says everything—without a single word.
I run a hand over the back of my neck.
Exhale. A nervous chuckle escapes.
Me: “Fuck… that was real.”
She blinks. Nods slowly, like she’s answering herself.
Emma: “Yeah… we really did that.”
We stand there. Still.
Me: “Emma, I made you come all over that damn sink… and you just sucked me off like it was nothing.”
She snorts—a tiny laugh, almost shy. Shrugs, all fake-innocent.
Emma: “Well… it’s not that crazy, right?”
And just like that—we both crack.
Real laughter. Raw, wild, uncontrollable. Too loud for this tiny bathroom.
A blend of embarrassment, release, and heat still clinging to our skin.
I shake my head mid-laugh.
Me: “Shit, Emma… we’re insane.”
She wipes her mouth, takes a deep breath, tries to get it together—but her cheeks are flushed, her eyes still lost in it.
Emma: “Yeah. Totally.”
We breathe. Deep. Like we’re coming up for air.
I turn, run a hand through my sweat-damp hair. Toss out casually:
Me: “Well… I’m starving. You?”
She chuckles, watches me walk out, towel still clutched to her.
Emma: “You always get hungry after a game?”
I shrug, not looking back.
Me: “Yeah. And after eating you, I’m even hungrier.”
She chokes on a laugh. Half-strangled.
Emma: “Brice, you’re a fucking menace.”
I smile down the hallway.
She shuts the door behind her.
And in my head, there’s no doubt left:
I’m fucking crazy about her.
God Emma is hot with cock in her mouth. But is she putting on weight? She looks chubbier than when she wears clothes. Still sexy….