Drusilla LovellDrusilla awakes with a start, her heart pounding and her skin flushed and burning. At first, she thinks it's just the heat radiating from Amoux's skin where she's pressed against his side, his arm loosely cradling her shoulders and one of her calves tucked between his thighs. But as consciousness returns to her and she takes stock of her senses, a slow sensation of horror crawls up her spine, because her clit is quite literally throbbing, like she's just been denied the euphoria of a climax that had been within her reach. What the fuck? Had she been having a wet dream, for fuck's sake? It seems like such a juvenile concept, and as she peeks up at Amoux's face and finds it still lax with sleep, she's grateful at least that she hadn't been apparently writhing against him while she was sleeping. Jesus christ. A glance towards the windows indicates that it's still the dead of night, with no traces of sunlight creeping around the edges of the curtains.

Slowly, Drusilla extricates her leg from between his and rolls onto her other side, telling herself to go back to sleep. She's hardly starved for his affection, but as the minutes tick by with exhaustion the furthest thing from her mind, his attention is the only thing she wants. Her pussy is still pulsing in tandem with her heart, and she knows if she were to stick her hand between her thighs, she'd be soaking wet. It's annoying, really, how distracting the mere thought of Amoux's hands and lips on her is. All hours of the day—and night, apparently—he lingers in her mind, like an unbreakable tether.

She manages to lay there in stiff stillness for all of five minutes before coming to accept that she isn't going back to sleep like this. It's already taking a herculean effort not to restlessly rock her hips, trying not to wake Amoux. Drusilla turns again, her eyes roving over the angular planes of his face softened in sleep; she loves seeing him this way, slack and vulnerable, because he trusts her. A plan begins to form in her mind, driven more by the demands of her needy cunt than logical thought, and she slips down towards the foot of the bed, moving as carefully as she can, hoping not to awaken Amoux for as long as she can.

She's never done anything like this, but then again, every experience with him is a new one to her, and he's never shamed her for her lack of knowledge—only taught her everything she doesn't know, opening the door to a world she couldn't have even begun to fathom the depth of without him. Drusilla's heart is thrumming rapidly again as she crawls between Amoux's legs, kneeling between his knees and skating her manicured fingertips over the lightweight fabric of his pants, her touch merely a whisper of contact. Drusilla isn't stupid—she knows that as soon as she starts touching him, he's going to begin waking up, and she fully intends to utilize every second of her control over him before he's aware enough to turn the tables. Biting her lower lip, she carefully pulls down the already indecently low waistband of his pants and boxers beneath, freeing his cock for her hungry stare to drink in. Her pussy throbs at the mere sight of him, and she has to bite back a moan.

Dropping her head, Drusilla wastes no further time as she licks a path up the underside of his shaft, from root to tip. One of her hands finds its way between her thighs, tucking beneath her lacy underwear so that she can rub tight circles over her throbbing clit. Her mouth closes over the head of his cock, which is quickly coming to attention under her ministrations, and her eyes raise to Amoux's face as she draws him further into the wet heat of her mouth, watching rather eagerly for the moment his eyes snap open.

AMOUX

His fingers tussle through her silver locks of hair, drawing a strand behind her ear and tucking it back. His gaze locks into hers as she smiles back at him, a sight he never thought possible before she turned his world over for the better. With Drusilla there was no fear of abandonment, she always made him feel she was his and his alone without straying from the bits of him that many would run from. She proved resilient in the many faces of demise and stood by him even when she owned him nothing. She was perfect for him, each and every day she never ceased to amaze him.

Tonight would be no different, something in her seemed to be awakened as she stirred beside him before rolling over, placing gentle kisses along his throat and trailing down the muscles that aligned his stomach. Her fingers traced under the band of his pants and she soon flicked the fabric down, his cock in full attention and hers to direct. His large hand reached, gently grabbing at the top of her hair as her mouth lowered into his cock, so wet and warm, taking him into the deepest parts of her throat. Fuck it felt so real, her plump lips wrapped around his thickness as her hands reached out and touched the skin of his thighs, his toes curling beneath the silk fabric sheets.

Then his vision would fade out to black with Drusilla no longer his sights, but he could still feel her hot mouth wrapped around him, her tongue trailing from his shaft to the tip before encasing him completely. He began to stir beneath the sheets, his hand idly reaching for the pleasure, only to be met with a fistful of hair. He groaned under a husky breath while his eyes slowly began to flutter open. When his vision would finally clear from the grogginess of sleep he would be met with a bright blue gaze, her mouth wrapped around his cock as she worked him to full awareness. “Mmm,” he groaned as his head rolled back into the fluff of the pillow, his toes curling from every stroke of her wet mouth against him. Hungrily he had the desire to pull her up and on top of him, his cock so hard in her mouth that he wanted to feel himself tightly fit inside her petitely built frame.

For now, he would allow her the reigns as he didn’t wish to starve himself of the pleasure. Her mouth felt so insanely good around his thick cock and the thought of his cum dripping down her lips was enough to keep him in place. “Quite a way to wake me,” but he was not complaining, and she would know this by the way his hand tightly knit into the locks of her hair, creating a rhythm with her motion. Though every now and again he would push her just a little deeper, in means of giving her a taste of his fill.

Drusilla LovellHe stirs slowly, little noises rumbling from his throat and the restless shift of his hips responding to her reflexively. His hand reaches for her blindly, fingers curling into her hair and warming the back of her neck, and she's finally rewarded with the hazy glow of his eyes meeting hers, heavy with arousal. Drusilla watches his head fall back in pleasure, a self-satisfied gleam in her gaze as she sucks him down deeper, wanting to drag more of those sounds out of him. She doesn't often get to catch Amoux off-guard, and she intends to take advantage of every second he's soft and pliant beneath her hands, well aware that there's a countdown going until he turns the tables and takes control of the situation. "Quite a way to wake me." Drusilla just smirks as much as she can with him in her mouth, humming her agreement against the smooth skin of his cock.

Amoux's hand grips her hair tighter as her head bobs down and up his length with growing enthusiasm, and when he applies more pressure, she lets him, feeling his crown brush the back of her throat and moaning around his length. Tears prick the corners of her eyes, a few more streaming down her cheeks every time he does it. Her body is as restless between his legs as her head is, her hips rocking against the hand she still has buried between her thighs, but it's not enough, and her orgasm stays stubbornly out of her reach, making her hover on the edge with mounting frustration. She can feel his cock growing impossibly harder against her tongue, signaling that he's close, and Drusilla pulls back with a wet pop, breathing hard, though her lack of oxygen doesn't deter her from licking a bead of precum from his tip. While it's tempting—and empowering—to bring him all the way to climax with just her mouth, she's too greedy to feel him inside her to wait even a few minutes for him to recover.

She finally pulls her hand away from her pussy to crawl up Amoux's body, straddling his hips and settling her weight there so that there's friction between his rigid cock and her soaked cunt, her lacy thong a pathetically worthless barrier between them. Drusilla shamelessly rocks her pelvis against him, dropping open-mouthed kisses over his chest and neck, even though she has to flatten her torso to his to reach that high, her skimpy silk nightie riding up in the process to expose her bare ass to the air. Her manicured nails—blood red this week—drag up over his abdomen and chest, stretching up to skate over the back of his neck and into his hair. "Please fuck me," she all but whimpers between nips and kisses, knowing how much he loves to hear that word on her lips. "I need to come," Drusilla pants, grinding her clit into the underside of his cock for emphasis, and then she clarifies almost desperately, "I need you."

She does not disappoint as she takes him deeper into her throat, his tip rubbing against the back and she hardly even flinches. He growls lowly under his breath, impressed, giving her a couple more deep throated taps before she finally pulls away. His toes curl further as she doesn’t hesitate to lick the precum off the tip of his cock, ”fuck, you’re so sexy,” he speaks in dark husky tone as she places kisses along his chest and neck, riding up to straddle him. He could feel the heat of her cunt against his lower stomach, his fingers glide over the fronts of her panties as he pulls them forward briefly, letting them go with a soft ‘thwap!’ against her skin. He smirks at her as she places more kisses, grinding herself against him with her soft whimpers of requests. A low chuckle vibrates from his chest, his arms hooking beneath her thighs as he looks her directly in the eyes. ”now, now,” he tsks between his teeth, wrapping the length of his arms behind her mostly bare ass and quickly pulling her closer to him. He scoots down until his lips barely touch her pussy, hit hot breath hovering over her.

”So wet for me,” he growls as he places a single lick from the opening of her cunt to her clit. His arms still wrapped around her thighs, his fingers curling into the skin of them with a firm grip to ensure she isn’t going anywhere—no matter how hard she tried, bucked, or wriggled. Another, firmer lick is placed against her pussy as he then takes her into his mouth, his tongue lavishing the skin of her lips. He doesn’t hold himself back from tasting her, occasionally dipping past her folds and tongue fucking her relentlessly. He could feel her grind against his face which causes him to moan, gripping her thighs tighter—surely he would leave the bruises of his fingertips in the wake of his touch.

He could feel her growing restless and wanting to come, but he won’t allow it as he then works slower, twirling the tip of his tongue against her clit. ”not yet,” he grumbles against her skin. Amoux is a giver, for her alone, and he has yet to fulfill her highest request.

Amoux is sure to ever so gently grind the skin of her lips between his teeth before pulling away slowly and releasing her. One hand slides out from under her and fingers finds her folds to plunge two fingers into her, swirling around the inside of her hot wet cunt. He groans with pleasure behind a low heated breath, ”mmm,” his cock so hard that it was beginning to pain him and he could no longer take teasing her. Large hands found the folds of her hips as he lifted her from his face and pressed her down, the tip of his cock hovering over her folds. He uses one hand to fist his length, drawing slow circles around her cunt with his eyes locked directly into hers.

”your wish is my command,” he says as he releases his length and places his hand back over her hip, his feet laying flat against the bed to ground him as he lifts his pelvis up towards her, using her hips to steady himself against her. He slides past her folds with ease as she takes him in, filling her completely, her wet cunt dripping around his thick cock as he pulls back out and presses into her again, deeply. He groans as his head rolls back, the muscles of his abs ripping through skin while he uses every ounce of his strength to fuck her as she sits like the princess she is upon the throne of his rigid cock. His pace intensifies, her wet pussy against his heated skin creating a suction before being relentlessly ripped away and slammed into again.

But when she is close he pulls out before slowly gliding into her again, holding her there to change the placement of his hands. His right hand curls around her back, and against her side using his momentum to roll himself with her until she is on her back against the bed, his cock never once leaving her wet cunt unoccupied. Both hands place at the opposite sides of her head, hovering over her lips until he leans forward and grinds the bottom her lip between his teeth, pulling and releasing gently. Feeling his own climax nearing, and not being quite done with her, he pulls himself out of her, soaked in her arousal. A shiver creeps down his spine, his lips still hovering over hers. ”I think you’ve had enough.” He smirks at her a hooded, hungry gaze.

Drusilla LovellThe look in his eyes is positively devilish as he chides her with a low chuckle. Any sense of control she's had over the situation is about to be ripped from her grasp, but she doesn't care. Drusilla doesn't just like it when Amoux drags her around like a ragdoll and plays her like a fiddle—she loves it, and the dark promise in his tone has quivering with excitement, even knowing he's about to deny her request. His palms are hot and heavy as they land on her thighs, sliding up and around her ass before he suddenly drags her up his torso and slides down the bed at the same time.

Drusilla squeals in surprise as her hands reflexively grasp for the headboard to keep her from toppling over, but the sound quickly morphs into a loud moan when his tongue slides over the sensitive flesh of her pussy. "Fuuuuck," she whimpers, writhing helplessly in his hold and throwing her head back when he repeats the motion more firmly, holding her to him. If Drusilla had any concerns about suffocating him, they're rapidly evaporated by the sensation of him eating her cunt like a starving man, and his grip is holding her down mercilessly regardless, offering no reprieve from the onslaught of his tongue. She keeps one white-knuckled grip on the headboard and buries her other hand in his hair, grinding shamelessly against his face, desperately chasing the high of her approaching climax.

But then he slows. down. He denies her orgasm intentionally, pulling her back from the edge with a gruff command that has her squirming and whimpering in protest. Amoux even goes so far as to taunt her with his teeth, and the moan that builds in her throat grows louder and sharper when his fingers invade her pussy without warning. She's immediately grinding against his hand, just for him to pull it away, but before she can complain too much, he's picking her up like she weighs nothing, dragging her pelvis back towards his and teasing her relentlessly with the blunt head of his cock circling her entrance. Her nostrils flare and Drusilla bites her lip as she stares down at him, her hair a wild and untamed halo around her head.

Her legs are still folded beneath her ass, her shins supported by his thighs, so when he raises his hips, her entire weight is resting on him. Her hands fall to his arms to steady herself, but Drusilla's grip quickly turns bruising as his cock slides into her in one agonizingly slow movement, her nails digging into his skin. The moan that drags itself out of her lips is guttural and euphoric, her eyes rolling back into her head and her body shuddering around him. She's so fucking soaked that there's zero resistance despite the near painful fit of his cock in her tight pussy, and she can feel him snugly fit into every space inside her, reaching the very end of her. He fucks her slowly and deeply at first, forcing her to feel every delicious glide of friction between them; as his pace increases, so does the sound of her moans, increasing in volume and pitch with every brutal thrust.

It's a dead giveaway that she's close to shattering again, her muscles taut and only a breath away from falling over that edge—and then he slows until he's barely moving at all, seated deep and still inside her, ripping away her release yet again. "No!" she protests vehemently, her skin flushed hot red as she tries desperately to rock against the vice grip of his hands. Drusilla can't even comprehend what he's doing before he's flipped the both of them, his cock still buried in her cunt and his head descending towards hers. She stills, nostrils flaring with heavy breaths as she meets his gaze, her eyes fluttering shut when his teeth tug at her lower lip. Drusilla chases his lips hungrily, searching for more contact until the moment his dick slips out of her weeping pussy, and she nearly screams in frustration, her head flopping back down on the sheets.

"I'll be the judge of when I've had enough," she snaps hotly, glowering up at him. Her nipples are peaked and hard enough to cut glass where they rub against the thin fabric of her slip, and Drusilla's chest is heaving as rapidly as her heart is beating, so thunderously fast that she thinks it might break free from her ribs. She hooks her heel around the back of his thigh, trying to pull him back to her—even if she knows it's futile, as she's nothing more than a porcelain doll against his strength; he's going to do whatever the fuck he wants. "Let me come, Amoux," she demands, leaning up enough to return a nip to his lower lip, harsher than his had been. "Please," she adds against his lips, but her tone isn't any softer, and her hands thread around his neck to rake her nails down his scalp and nape, intending to leave marks on his skin.

If begging won't get her what she wants, she'll call his monster out to play instead.

He can see the frustration littered in her features, the way her brows knit together and she scolds him for stopping so abruptly. A dark smirk curls at the edges of his lips, good, he’s pushing her to the edge and still he holds tightly onto her reins. Amoux won’t allow her to think that she holds the power over him, though there are strings wrapped around her fingers that she is only able to puppeteer and pull. He won’t speak it aloud, but he is not so foolish to know that is aware of those strings, and how to get him to move. As he hovers over her she grabs at his lips, a forceful pull of them would solidify her frustrations. She is testing him, trying to pull him out of the darkest depths so she could feel the fire that brews in the deepest pits of his being. Drusilla isn’t a fool, and with the time they come to know one another she knows what makes him tick.

His jaw flexes as his cock still remains pressed against her opening, hovering there even as she desperately tries to hook the back of his legs and push him closer. He resists, shaking his head at her while a tsk leaves his lips, his gaze growing dark. Her tone doesn’t change to something softer as she tries to coax him with a different approach, it causes a chuckle to vibrate from his lips. ”You will,” he responds, ”when I say so.” His fingers wrap around her hard nipples, rotating them slowly between his fingers before filling his palms with her breasts. He drags himself off the bed as she lay there, releasing her from his grip and grabbing her thighs, forcibly pulling her closer to the edge of the bed where he stands. He fists his length and draws circles around her wet opening with the tip of his cock, pressing only the tip in slowly before he fits the rest of himself tightly in her. A groan leaves his lips while he holds himself inside of her, savoring the warmth and wetness of her tight cunt. Each of her legs rested on a different shoulder, his wide hands gripping her hips with his fingertips burryong into her skin. He pulls out slowly, but his next thrust is deep and forceful, each one intensifying more than the last up until he feels her tighten around him, his own climax nearing.

Amoux pulls himself out of her with a heavy groan, not wanting to feel the release of her around him, but it is his intention to torture her every way possible.

He turns her around with ease, her bare ass exposed to him as her arousal coats the inners of her thighs. Amoux dips down, tasting her as he slides two fingers into her wet cunt, knuckle deep, fucking her slowly with his fingers. He pushes into her a couple of times until he retracts his fingers and licks them clean, not waiting for her to respond, beg or plead while he stands and retracts his hand, palming a forceful slap on her ass. He places two more firm smacks in the same area, her skin growing hot and red to the touch, his intention being to kill her nearing climax.

Amoux doesn’t leave her stressed from the lack of him, however, his palms moving to cup each cheek as he spreads her apart, admiring her glistening wet cunt, his cock pressing past her folds in one fluid motion. His head rolls back as he groans, picking up the rhythm as he responds to her desires.