Chapter 106: beg me

Lucca pov

I closed the script. Everyone saw it; behind the curtain, the shadow didn't rise to take a bow but curled up, resembling both a fetus and a pained mother, gradually disappearing in the fading stage lights.

A few days later, Vincent came to the hillside villa. I was in the shower, and he spotted the pack's monthly magazine on my desk. The cover featured my silhouette in soft light. My slender figure wasn't really suited for the role of a "mother." But it was precisely this "unsuitability" that emphasized the depth of violence and harm.

"I didn't buy that; the publishing house sent one to each of the performers," I said, coming out in a bathrobe, feeling somewhat uneasy as I saw him flipping through the magazine.

Vincent nodded, mentioning that he had attended the performance that day. "You watched a broadcast of it?" I asked as I dried my hair. Vincent took the towel from my hands and carefully wrapped it around my neck.

"I was at the auditorium," he replied.

"Really?" I turned to look at him, but he held my neck gently, drying off the water droplets slowly. "You didn't even attend Raffle's campaign speech."

Vincent didn't respond. He kissed my neck from behind, and his fingers lightly traced a small patch of skin behind my ear. I heard the sound like stepping on snow, and it tickled, making me pull my neck back.

Vincent was breathing in my scent. My semi-wet hair carried a hint of citrus, the fragrance of shampoo. He used the towel to dry it, and my dark hair created intricate, winding black lines against my fair skin.

"How was it?" Vincent asked softly.

"...It wasn't much," I replied. He turned me around, and when we were suddenly face to face, I still flinched.

Vincent helped me tighten my bath towel, his fingers slipping a bit into the folded edge and then quickly withdrawing. His hand covered my eyes, and then he kissed me, right at the corner of my lips.

"How about now?" he asked.

I removed his hand, anxious, and repeated, "I need to watch you... I have to see you. I need to know it's you."

Vincent thought for a moment, then lowered his head and kissed me.

"It's me," he whispered into my mouth.

"Turn off the lights," I said, shifting my tone from anxiety. "I want to be in the dark..."

"No," Vincent said, reaching up to touch my face. He couldn't let me be in the dark, where I couldn't recognize the person in front of me. But he also couldn't let me feel the hungry gaze, as I had once been scrutinized, surrounded by flashes and camera lenses, exposed to everyone's eyes like a commodity.

"Go inside," Vincent pulled aside the curtain, then slowly closed his eyes. The dim light and the familiar scent of cedarwood were enough to calm me. My tightly wound emotions finally relaxed a bit.

The feeling of being watched had finally subsided, and it wasn't as overwhelming as before. Layers of cocoon peeled away, revealing delicate butterfly bones, like wings yet to unfold. My wet black hair contrasted against the silver-gray sheets, revealing the dark beauty beneath.

"Are you still okay?" Vincent asked.

"No problem," I replied. But when the shadows crept over, I couldn't help but recoil in fear.

Vincent remembered the drunken man who had tried to climb onto the hammock. He adjusted our positions, positioning me toward the light source while he stayed in the shadow.

"Like this?" he asked.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and strength beneath.

"This works," I said.

Vincent nodded and patted my back reassuringly. I leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose, and he nibbled on my ear, whispering softly. Our voices were barely audible, meant for only each other to hear.

...

Vincent directly from the bottom up to lift open my clothes, push the underwear upwards, pressed and kneaded the breast flesh, pink bra placed on top of the breasts, squeezing up deep grooves.

His eyes were dark, his brow handsome giving the illusion of deep affection, the breast flap was tightly encircled in his hand, overflowing in his finger

The flap of his breast was tightly encircled in his hand, spilling out into the crevice of his fingers, his thumb rubbing against the pink tip of his breast and pulling and crushing it.

I stopped his movements with a frown, and their lips parted, the pink lips filled with watery light.

I unbuttoned the inner buttons of my own hand and rose to remove my own and Vincent's clothing, exposing my soft body to his gaze with undisguised lust.

Slightly trembling soft flesh with my every move bumps seductive breast waves, peach tip pink and delicious, slightly messy a few strands of long hair scattered on my white chest.

I opened my legs and sat on top of Vincent's long, thick, hot rod, holding my soft, supple breasts and feeding them into his mouth for him to nibble on. The soft and slippery center of her flower rubbed against his hard as iron penis.

Every move was characterized by bold erotic seduction, tantalizing and seductive.

Vincent looked askance at me, big palm cupped and then feasted on my tender heart tip, rolling and nibbling, the core of the breast was he licked and sucked, big tongue along the small areola circle sucking, head buried in my cleavage on the inseparable, licked the beads of jade, gently bite a bite of the deep and then slowly put down, so elastic and smooth, but also like tofu like tender and soft, moist peaks were his kisses wet pitter patter.

I was stimulated up and down, and I chanted, rubbing his hard black and purple rod back and forth, my waist was very soft, my clitoris was rubbed, and my pussy was gurgling with lewd water, wetting and moistening his crotch with the rhythm.

Vincent took me by the waist, was my grinding can not stand, "baby, quickly let the big meat stick in."

I refused, I want absolute dominance, biting his earlobe winks murmured, "lycan you beg me to give you." His eyes were bloodshot his eyes were cloudy and his wong voice pleaded. "Want to get into little rogue's slit and be played with hard."

I laughed softly, then I was satisfied to lift my ass up, kneeling on the poorly positioned desk chair, I only had my hands on his shoulder blades, the soft and supple core of my flower against the big glans, and I slapped my muddy pussy lustfully, the sound of slapping and slurping water was very provocative.

Vincent's throat rolled and he looked at me sultrily, his tone hardly concealing his derision. "So wet ......"

The big cock is controlled by me, at will, I play, I wasp waist and arched buttocks slowly sinking, the ultimate temptation to the charming flesh layers and layers were turned, first slowly grinding, several times again and again, back and forth hooking gluttony, and then a thrust to the bottom, rippling a large water stains.

Plop plop plop.

"Uhhh ...... So big ......" Can not help but gasp again and again, tingling pleasure surging toward me, soft waist bobbing up and down, fat pussy lips devouring his big meat stick, obsessed with tightly bite not to let go.

The tightness of his cock made him suck in a breath of cold air, and his panting got hotter and hotter.

"So good at sucking big rods."

The water in his eyes looked at him with affection, clamping down on his pussy and thrusting up and down, snapping and snapping, hundreds of tiny little mouths sucking tightly on his huge meat root, the tunnel was wet and warm, and every time Vincent pushed up his waist and tucked in his belly with my movements, he fucked fiercely upwards.

"That pussy is so good." Vincent couldn't help but sigh.

Every time the intercourse brings Vincent a huge pleasure, the core of the flower gurgled and flowed a lot of water, I twisted the waist of the jade forcefully pumping, tearful eyes looking at him, the plump huge breasts against his robust chest muscle, the flesh of the hole violently and quickly, I bit my lips and whimpered, abdominal spasms, charming flesh sucking and entangling, a crystal clear obscene water shooting out of the embankment.

He pushed up his waist and moved violently, his pussy was very moist and tight, and he rammed me hard, crushing my juicy narrow pussy.

I stored teardrops, my back was table board grinding raw pain but does not affect the pleasure of this cool rotten, to be fucked bad, a little fight his attack, broken chanting low whimpering gasping, full red lips slightly open, almond eyes, peach cheeks containing spring, by the big meat stick inserted in the deep, full, so happy.

Vincent grabbed and squeezed my soft and trembling breasts, lovingly kneaded and pinched into a variety of postures, the black and purple rod through the core of the juice splashed, dozens of fierce rampage.

Plop plop plop.

I cried out delicately, "master...... It's too fast ......"

Vincent kneaded the fleshy core, pressed hard, the clitoris was ravaged by gravity, the pussy overflowed with a large amount of juice, the man's scrotum slapped heavily on the buttock petals, the huge cock squeezed into the womb opening, the ultimate pleasure of dying haunts me, soothingly indistinguishable from north and south east and north west, I look at the gorgeous chandelier frequently lost in my soul and shook my head.

"Haaah ...... It's going to squirt ......" The tide squirted, lifting up my hips my honey pussy quivered fiercely as the nectar gushed out.

……

"Tired? Go to bed early."

I didn't respond, my breathing getting steadier.

vincent was face to face with me, not skin to skin, just holding my hand gently under the fleece blanket.

He remembered the curtain call poem I'd read, "I Was in That Room".

Sacrifice. Pain. Bleeding.

Stretching, forgiving, repairing.

What leads us to this wounded and marvelous world that

is the heart and the Unnamable Thing.