Between Lust And Control 27

Chapter 27

One More Taste

The hotel room was warm and quiet in the early morning light, just the faint hum of the city beyond the curtains. Ayla woke up tangled in the sheets, Tommy’s arm heavy around her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She felt him before she even turned, that slow, lazy hardness pressed to her ass under the blankets, so thick and warm it made her thighs squeeze together before her mind caught up.

She didn’t move at first, just lay there, biting her lip as that sweet ache pulsed low in her belly. She rolled her hips back, just a little, testing him, and she felt him twitch against her, that low rumble in his chest that made her grin into the pillow.

“You keep doing that,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, his nose brushing her hair. “I’m gonna think you want more.”

Ayla let out a shy laugh, soft and airy, but she didn’t deny it. She peeked over her shoulder, eyes still half-dreamy, then let her gaze drop to the outline of him under the sheet, thick and heavy and hers. Her breath caught, cheeks blooming pink.

Tommy’s lips brushed her ear, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. “You want to ride it, pretty girl… or do you want to be my messy little angel again?”

That made her laugh again, breathless and nervous, melting into a whimper when his hand squeezed. She didn’t answer with words, just wriggled out from under him, crawling down the bed on her elbows until she was between his legs, hair spilling wild around her shoulders.

She wrapped her tiny fingers around him, so thick in her hand it looked almost obscene, and gave him a slow, shy stroke that made his hips lift off the bed. Her eyes flicked up, wide and glassy, then dropped back down to watch the way his cock twitched in her palm. She leaned in, tongue flicking out to taste him, a soft moan humming from her lips.

She sucked him slow, messy, her breath catching every time he groaned for her. And when he was close, when his hand fisted in her hair and his voice dropped to a growl, Ayla pulled off with a playful little laugh and scrambled up onto her knees. She pressed her tits together, tilted her sweet, flushed face up to him, eyes so soft and wicked at the same time.

“Do it, baby,” she whispered. “Mess me up.”

His phone was already in his free hand, that wicked, proud smirk tugging at his lips as he hit record. Just five seconds, shaky and raw: Ayla’s laughter, her parted lips, her eyes rolling up as thick, hot ropes painted her pretty cheeks, her chin, her forehead. She squealed when it hit her lips, her laugh breaking into a soft, breathless moan as she dragged his cock across her tongue.

When it was done, Tommy tucked his phone away and brushed his thumb over her messy mouth. “You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured.

Ayla just let out a dazed little laugh, her fingers smearing the mess across her flushed cheeks like she wanted to keep it forever.

They cleaned up together, all shy touches and warm chuckles, then lay tangled for a while longer, legs brushing, her head on his chest.