Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2) - Page 42

The limo went silent.

Right as I turned around, I caught Jean-Pierre charging for me.

I shrieked.

He grabbed me from behind, seizing my body and wrapping his scent around me. “I like when you surprise me.”

“You’re off the phone already.”

“Once you put that ass in the air, I hung up.”

“That’s all it took.”

He grunted and rubbed his cock against my ass. “Lace on your body is one of my many weaknesses.”

I moaned as he yanked my corset down, freeing my breasts. They bobbled in front of me. My nipples were already hard. Already desperate for his touch. A squeeze. A caress. A lick. A suck into his warm mouth.

“Jean-Pierre,” I cried out with hunger.

He made a rummaging sound behind me, then brought the clamps around, and handed them to me. I grabbed them and leaned back against him, enjoying that hard cock as it pushed into my ass.

He whispered, “Do you want me to put them on?”

“Please. Anything. Just touch me.”

He slipped his hands over my naked breast. A low groan dragged out of my body. Arousal soaked my thong. My thighs shivered, ready to be opened for him.

He took his damn time, taking one from my hands and then putting it on. I came close to begging him to hurry. Once they both clamped on my nipples, pain mixed with pleasure.

“Oh.” I raised my hands and grabbed him from behind, running my fingers through his hair and touching anything I could, his neck. His massive shoulders.

I yearned to turn around and feel him completely, but I also loved the way his cock pressed against my ass, threatening to fill me. Penetrate me. Make me rock and throb with pleasure.

“Do your nipples hurt?”

“A little, but not. . .” I licked my lips. “I… like the way they hurt.”

“Hmmm.”

The diamonds dangled from my pinched nipples. With skilled fingers, he flicked at the clamp. A sting of pain came at the tips, and then pure pleasure. I arched my back.

And still the limo raced through Paris. Gorgeous blurred building flew by the windows, forming more lines than distinct images. It almost felt like we were enclosed within a world of our own, even though we were in the heart of France, surrounded my hundreds of people going about their evening.

“I’m like a kid in a candy store right now. I don’t know which way I want to fuck you.” The silky tone of his voice had gone. Instead, his voice darkened into a heated seduction that blazed to my pussy. “How should I fuck you tonight?”

“In my ass. In my pussy.”

“How I wish I could do both at the same time.” He tenderly pulled on both clamps, stimulating the shit out of my nipples. A lusty fire burned those tips.

“Oh,” I moaned.

“Which should I fuck first, reine?” Licking my neck and then capturing my ear, he flicked his fingers along the clamps again. “Is that pussy wet for me?”

I cried out in hunger. “Yes.”

He gripped my waist with both hands and then wrenched my thongs off. The fabric didn’t tear with ease as usual, but there was no salvation for it. Seconds later, the torn material lay on the floor and my wet pussy was bare and exposed for him.

“Maybe, I’ll make my cock wet with you, and then fuck you in your ass.”

“Yes, to all the above.”

There was no more time for words, although he still claimed me with them.

He bit and nibbled on my neck as one of his hands played a song with the front of my pussy, twisting my clit and then caressing it with feathery strokes. Over and over my body replayed the melody back. His other hand was behind me, spreading open my ass and teasing within its fold.

My moans rose in the limo. “Please, Jean-Pierre, Please.”

“I love when you’re impatient.” He slowly bent me over.

I happily lowered for him, placing my palms on the floor. “Hurry.”

“Hurry?”

“Yes.”

Grunting, he roughly pushed inside my pussy. His cock spread me open. His strokes were a delicious rhythm. He had one hand on my shoulder. The other gripped my hip. And he pumped. Fucking me hard. Thrusting with a force that rocked my body. I yearned to orgasm. The need shot through me in an intense sensation.

“Jean-Pierre!” I tried to grab the floor’s carpet to hold on, but I couldn’t. “Oh, I’m coming.”

“Damn you, baby.”

I struggled to get control of myself, but he wouldn’t let me. He had a merciless grip on my hips. Guiding my body back and forth onto him, I came deliriously hard. My pussy hugged his cock more due to necessity, verses being in my control.

When I fell limp forward, he slipped his cock out of my pussy, positioned me, and entered my ass.

“Oh, Jean-Pierre!”

He pumped his wet cock into my ass. Giving delicious strokes to that tight hole. “What would I do without you, queen?”

Tags: Kenya Wright Butcher and Violinist Billionaire Romance
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