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Luo Qingyang moans, clutching tighter to the bed frame in the shitty motel room they’re renting for the night.
Wei Ying drives his tongue up into her dripping cunt, and her thighs flex around his head.
He moans at the pressure, and the vibration sends sparks shooting up her spine.
“Fuck,” she pants, rocking her hips against his tongue. “Just like that,” she murmurs. “Put that pretty mouth of yours to good use for me,” she groans as he flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue and kisses her slow and filthy across her cunt.
Luo Qingyang cries out, keeping her voice low in case the room next door is occupied. “You’re being so good for me,” she praises, reaching back with one arm to run a hand across the lean muscles of his chest and stomach.
Her thighs are starting to burn as she keeps herself at just the right height: low enough for him to lap at her, but high enough not to keep him from breathing.
He may be a Jiang boy and a flutist, but even his impressive breath control has limits she’s not keen to test tonight.
“Suck my clit,” she orders.
Wei Ying moans and complies. He’s so easy for her. He’s so well-behaved in bed, though nowhere else. She’ll reward him later.
His lips are gentle as he takes her clit between them and sucks, running his tongue in soft sweeps across the nerves.
She moans, dropping her head to rest against the wooden frame as she trembles.
“You love this,” she says, breathy and not quite hinged. “You’re so desperate to eat me out. So desperate to be pressed down to the bed and bossed around.” She makes sure her amusement is audible. “You’re so handsome and easy for me, Yingying,” she teases.
He makes a broken, muffled sound that she feels at the base of her skull and through her throbbing clit.
“You’re so— ooh— so pretty and perfect. You’re so good for me.”
She glaces over her shoulder, watching the way his cock, a red, almost-purple at the head, leaks against his stomach.
“Am I making you wet? Are you going to get as wet for me as I am for you?” She can feel how slick his chin is with her arousal. She wants to see him drenched.
Between her thighs, his eyes are squeezed shut, furrowed in painful sort of pleasure as he flicks her clit with kitten licks in-between sucking her off. She brushes his bangs away from his sweat-damp forehead.
Their eyes meet, for a moment, in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
He’s beautiful and wrecked and, even if only for tonight, he’s hers.
Her hands fall to where his are squeezing the meat of her thighs. She laces their fingers together and enjoys the feel of his calluses against her own.
Her hips roll against his mouth, and he gets the hint, flattening his tongue for her to ride.
Luo Qingyang breathes hard, flexing her abs and ignoring the urge to crush him closer to her cunt.
She’s so close.
Her pleasure-wrung nerves are flashing brighter than the skyscrapers in the city outside, brighter than the neon that had brought them to this very room.
“C’mon,” she murmurs. “You’re so close. Finish me off. I know you can.”
Wei Ying keens, but she doesn’t let up. She cants her hips faster, urging him to keep up. To fuck her. To sate the hunger in her veins.
His nose rubs her clit as his tongue plunges up into her cunt.
“Fuck!”
Whole-body shivers wrack her. She’s so close to the edge that it almost hurts. She needs it. She needs him.
Wei Ying has always been a prodigy. He’s always been fast to learn and keen at reading people.
Tonight is no exception.
He sinks his fingers deeper into her thighs, using their intertwined hands to double the pressure.
He meets her eye and winks as he rubs her clit carefully between his tongue and the edge of his teeth.
Luo Qingyang comes hard, biting her lip and squeezing his hands so tight she’s going to leave bruises on her own thighs.
Her hips buck against his tongue, and she gasps as wave after wave of pleasure unspools from her body like ripples in a pond. He continues to lick her though it, tongue soft and teasing and too much.
She bears it for as long as she can, and then hisses in overstimulation. Good boy that he is, he stops.
With her head on the headboard, she pants for a moment, not trusting her locked legs to hold her weight when she moves.
Wei Ying’s hands slip from hers and rub soothing circles into her hips.
She carefully dismounts, sliding down to lay next to him.
His grinning face is shiny from the nose down. It’s a good look.
“So Mianmian, am I good, or what?” His voice is raspy and fucked out. It makes her want to kiss him.
She turns the grin right back. “You were such a good boy for me, sweetheart.” For extra effect, she runs her nails up his stomach, watching his cock jump and his cheeks darken to a furious red. “So perfect and handsome and needy sucking my clit.”
“I— that is—“ He looks away, flustered. His hands come up to cover his face as he makes an embarrassed noise.
She bursts out laughing. “Still so easy.”
He scowls at her with one partially-uncovered eye. “You’re too mean.”
“What are you, five? Learn better insults.” She rolls on top of him, pinning his cock against his stomach with her thigh.
“Ah, ah, Mianmian,” he groans, desperate and high, his hands clutching her biceps.
She smiles, kissing his salty mouth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’m still going to fuck you.”
He whines at her words, and she can’t help the heady, powerful feeling that clouds her mind as she rolls a condom onto his length.
For tonight, at least, he is hers.