Chapter 49: Eating the reward

Monica was already on her knees when the haze of the kiss finally cleared, her palms sinking into the cool sheets, ass arched high like an offering she couldn’t take back.

People were still walking outside since it was only late evening. Their family members were still awake, including Gustav, and that’s exactly what made it more hot.

“Nngh…” She bit her lower lip, not wanting to let anyone know what kind of ’reward’ she was offering to her son.

The black mesh thong had been yanked to the side, the fragile lace now bunched uselessly against one cheek, leaving her completely exposed.

Her pussy glistened in the thin moonlight, lips puffy and parted, slick dripping in slow, shameless strings down her inner thighs.

Luke dropped to his knees behind her without a word.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of her hips, thumbs spreading her open wider until her hole fluttered under the sudden cool air.

He didn’t tease. He simply leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue from her clit all the way up to the tight pucker above, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of her arousal in one long, filthy stroke.

Monica’s whole body jolted. A choked whimper escaped before she could clamp her lips shut.

Her fingers twisted hard into the sheets, knuckles bleaching white as she fought to keep quiet.

He groaned low against her cunt, the vibration ripping another shaky sound from her throat. Then he dove in properly, mouth sealing over her swollen folds, tongue plunging deep into her dripping entrance.

He fucked her with it, slow wet thrusts that made obscene sucking noises fill the room.

Every time he pulled back, a fresh gush of her slick coated his chin and lips. He lapped it up greedily, swirling around her clit in tight, relentless circles before dipping lower again to spear inside her.

“Ah… Luke…slow…down…” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper. Although she said that, the way her body reacted, she wanted anything but for this sensation to vanish.

She pressed her face into the mattress, trying to muffle the moans that kept spilling out anyway.

Her hips rocked back involuntarily, grinding her pussy against his face, smearing her wetness across his cheeks and nose.

She was dripping so much it ran in rivulets down his throat; he swallowed every drop like he was dying of thirst.

One of his hands left her hip. She heard the faint rasp of his pants, then the soft, rhythmic sound of him stroking himself.

Slow and teasing himself. The wet slide of his fist over his thick cock matched the tempo of his tongue, lazy and unhurried, like he had all night to devour her.

He flattened his tongue again, pressing hard against her clit and shaking his head side to side in strong little jerks that made her thighs quake.

Monica’s back bowed, ass pushing higher, silently begging for more even as she bit down on the sheet to stifle her cries. Her pussy clenched around nothing, aching, leaking, so close she could feel the heat coiling tight in her belly.

Luke hummed approval against her, the sound vibrating straight through her core. He sucked her clit between his lips, slow and firm, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive bud in quick, merciless flutters while his hand kept pumping his cock in long, heated strokes.

Precum beaded at his tip; she could hear the slick sounds of it coating his fingers.

That was it.

“Aahh…Luke!”

Her orgasm hit like a fist. Monica’s muffled scream vibrated into the mattress as her whole body seized.

Her pussy spasmed hard against his mouth, gushing fresh slick that he drank down without pause, tongue still working her through every shuddering wave.

Her thighs trembled violently, hips jerking in helpless little thrusts as she rode his face, nub throbbing under the steady pressure of his lips.

He didn’t stop licking until the last flutter died out, until she was whimpering from overstimulation and her arms gave way, collapsing her chest to the bed while her ass stayed high, trembling.

Only then did he pull back, lips and chin shining with her release. His hand was still wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, the head flushed dark and slick.

He leaned over her, voice rough and thick with want.

“Good girl. You taste like fucking heaven.”

Monica could only pant against the sheets, body still twitching, too wrecked to answer.

Luke shifted behind her, getting on his feet, his cock heavy and slick from his own slow strokes.

The head brushed against her soaked entrance, parting her swollen lips with the lightest pressure.

Monica’s breath hitched, a soft, broken sound escaping before she could swallow it. She was still trembling from the aftershocks, pussy clenching around nothing, greedy for more.

She was going to do it again…betray her mate, taken by another man…no one but her son. And yet, she found herself sticking her towards him more while her eyes rolled back in her head.

He didn’t rush. He pressed forward inch by torturous inch, letting her feel the thick stretch as he sank inside.

The first slow glide made her walls flutter hard around him, slick heat sucking him deeper like her body had been waiting for this exact moment.

A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest when he bottomed out, hips flush against her ass, balls pressed tight to her dripping folds.

“Fuck… so tight,” he whispered, voice rough and reverent. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh just enough to hold her steady.

She was clenching on him as if the woman he had in his arms hadn’t birthed a child.

Monica buried her face deeper into the sheets, biting down on the fabric to muffle the whine that tried to claw out of her throat.

The room was quiet except for their breathing and the wet, obscene sound of him pulling back—slow, intentionally slow—then sliding back in with the same measured rhythm.

Every withdrawal dragged along her sensitive walls, every re-entry filled her completely, the slick friction building a filthy symphony: the soft squelch of her arousal coating his shaft, the faint slap of skin meeting skin when he pressed all the way home, the creak of the bed protesting under their careful weight.

They found the rhythm together without words. He rocked into her in long, lazy strokes, deep enough to nudge that spot inside that made her toes curl, slow enough to let the pleasure coil tighter with every pass.

“Luke…feels good…don’t stop…” The woman had forgotten all the resistance she had in her mind the moment her son’s heat breached her folds.

She matched him instinctively, pushing back to meet each thrust, ass lifting higher, thighs quivering as she tried to take him deeper.

The thong, still tangled to the side, rubbed against her skin with every movement, adding a maddening little spark that had her clenching around him harder.

The risk hung thick in the air. Down the hall, people sat and were having dinner probably.

Any louder sound—a real moan, a slap of flesh too sharp—could reach them, and certainly, would be understood by Dalia.

The thought made her pulse hammer, made every slide of his cock feel sharper, hotter, more dangerous.

She clenched her teeth, fighting to stay quiet, but small, helpless whimpers still leaked out, vibrating against the damp sheet.

Luke leaned over her, chest brushing her back, one hand sliding up to cup her breast through the sheer mesh.

He pinched her nipple gently, flicking it between his fingers in time with his hips. His other hand slipped between her thighs, fingertips finding the crown and circling with the same slow, relentless pressure.

“You’re dripping down my balls,” he murmured against her ear, voice thick with lust. “Listen to how wet you are for me.”

Another deep thrust. The wet smack echoed louder this time, impossible to ignore.

Monica’s eyes squeezed shut, body shaking as the pleasure crested higher. She could feel it building—hot, heavy, unrestrained—every stroke winding her tighter, every brush of his fingers on her clit pushing her closer to the edge.

He kept the pace steady, unhurried, letting it build until her thighs started to shake uncontrollably.

Her muffled moans turned desperate, ragged, barely contained. The risk only sharpened it: the fear of being heard, the thrill of being so shamelessly filled while the house stayed silent around them.

Then suddenly, Luke pulled out,

“Eh?” Monica let out a sound which surprised herself about how dissatisfied she sounded.

Luke grinned and lay beside her.

Crossing his arms under his head, he told her, “Come on, ride me now. I want to see those tits bouncing.”

•••••••

A/N:- Thanks for reading. Whose nsfw should I generate?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep