Chapter 70 Fingered At The Gala

Chapter 70 Fingered At The Gala
She clamped her lips shut immediately.

Her cheeks turning crimson red in embarrassment at the whiny shout that left her lips.

What the fuck!

Nikolai's abrupt thrust into her wet pussy was unexpected.

Anya turned towards her in an instant.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Heat was throbbing hard beneath her skin, her pussy throbbing around Nikolai's fingers that stayed warm inside her.

Lowering her voice, "I'm fine," she managed to say with a shaky breath, "my foot just got caught on a chair leg. Everything's fine now."

No it wasn't.

Her walls were clenching around Nikolai's fingers.

With a questioning gaze and a nod, "okay," Anya said and focused on the on-going auction.

Isabella bit her lips hard, hot sensation prickling her skin like needles.

Her eyes caught Nikolai's heated gaze. He lowered his eyes to her lips and smirked.

He pushed his fingers deeper, curling into her slick heat.

And with Isabella's traitorous body, her pussy welcomed his fingers deeper, her wet heat swallowing what he gave her like he owned her.

She could feel her arousal coating his fingers, coating down to his knuckles as he worked her open.

Her thighs trembled under the tablecloth, her hips twitching involuntarily as Nikolai's thumb found her swollen clit. He rubbed slow, firm circles that made her breath catch.

"Fucking look at you," he whispered hotly into her ears for only her to hear, "soaking through my fingers like the needy girl you are."

Isabella's face burned hotter. She pressed her lips together, fighting the moan building in her throat.

She had to keep it together. She had to stay silent. They were in an open place though the dimmed lights hid them.

But if she were to scream again, then she would be caught— they would be caught.

She watched as everyone was focused on bidding for luxury items.

No one knew what Nikolai was doing to her and how her body was twitching for more.

Fuck!

Her eyes rolled back, Nikolai's fingers pumped steadily now, the wet sounds barely audible over the auction noise. Each thrust made her wet entrance flutter, her inner muscles gripping him tighter.

As he drove a third finger deeper, the wet squelch of her dripping cunt was still masked by the auctioneer's voice.

Her walls fluttered and spasmed, sucking greedily at his knuckles while fresh heat poured out around his hand, soaking the seat beneath her.

She bit down on her lower lip until it throbbed, but a broken whimper still escaped—high, needy, unmistakable.

Anya whipped around again. "Isabella? Your face is flushed. Are you sure you're alright?"

Trying to mask her tone, she gasped, "Y-yes," her voice cracked.

Her palms slammed flat against the table, fingers splayed wide as if bracing against a storm. "Just... hot in here."

Her thighs shook under the tablecloth, spreading wider without permission as Nikolai's thumb grind ruthless circles over her swollen clit. Each pass sent lightning through her core, making her pussy gush around his pumping fingers.

Nikolai leaned closer, breath hot against her ear,

"Your greedy cunt is swallowing my fingers like it wants to be fucked raw right here," he growled, voice low and filthy. "Look at you...dripping down my wrist while everyone watches the auction. Such a filthy little whore. My Shlyukha."

Isabella's back arched. Her nipples stabbed against her dress, painfully hard. She pressed her palms harder into the table, her knuckles whitening as Nikolai added a fourth finger, stretching her wet pussy wider.

The burn made her eyes water, but her hips rolled forward, chasing more. Her pussy made obscene wet sounds with every thrust of his fingers—slick, messy, desperate.

Anya frowned, leaning in. "You're shaking. Do you need water? Or should I call someone over?"

"N-no," Isabella choked out, her voice strangled. "I'm—fuck—fine." Her cunt clamped down hard as Nikolai curled his fingers against her G-spot, rubbing that spongy spot with vicious precision.

Her vision blurred.

A thin line of drool escaped the corner of her mouth before she could stop it.

Nikolai didn't slow down.

His fingers pistoned faster, his thumb never leaving her clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles that made her thighs jerk and her pussy flood.

"You want to scream, don't you?" he whispered, cruel and amused. "Want everyone to know how soaked your cunt is for me."

Isabella's palms pressed harder into the table, her arms trembling and breath coming in shallow pants.

Every thrust made her pussy spasm, clenching and fluttering around his thick fingers like it was trying to pull him deeper. Her juices ran down his hand, dripping onto the floor in quiet, shameful splats.

Anya turned back toward her again, concern etched across her face but she didn't ask anything. Instead she immediately grasped the situation and when her eyes flashed with Isabella's heated and lustful ones she smirked and turned back, minding her business.

Isabella didn't even have time to understand why Anya was smirking.

Nikolai had hooked his fingers just right, dragging against that spot inside her with hot, brutal thrusts.

Fucking hell!

Her vision blurred.

Her cunt convulsed, a fresh gush of wetness soaking his palm. Her thighs shook violently.

She pressed her lips together so hard they went white, but a broken, desperate whine still slipped out.

Then her orgasm slammed into her without mercy.

Isabella's entire body seized, her spine bowing so violently that her chair legs scraped the floor.

A strangled, broken sound tore from her throat. Half a sob and the other half a loud scream that made several heads turn.

Her wet pussy clamped down around Nikolai's fingers like a vice, pulsing in violent, rhythmic spasms that milked him deeper.

Hot, thick spurts of her release gushed around his knuckles, soaking his wrist and splattering onto the floor beneath the table.

Her face contorted, mouth slack and drooling, eyes rolled back until only the white side showed.
Sweat beaded across her forehead and upper lips, her flushed skin glistening under the dim lights.

Strands of Half-Down styled hair clung to her damp neck and cheeks, wild and disheveled.

Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, spread wide and twitching as her pussy continued to flutter and squirt around his relentless fingers.

Nikolai didn't stop. He kept working her through it, thumb grinding merciless circles over her swollen clit while his fingers pistoned through the mess of her orgasm, drawing out every last spasm.

Her inner walls rippled greedily, sucking at his knuckles as fresh waves of wetness poured out of her.

"Good girl, you're doing a good job," he hissed against her ear, voice dark with satisfaction. "Come all over my hand like my desperate little whore you are."

Her nipples ached against the fabric of her dress, hard and visible through the material.

Nikolai's eyes etched on the hardened peak and for a moment he let his thoughts run wild.

'He slid her over, letting her straddle his laps while he tore at dress latching onto her nipples.'

Fuck!

He could do it. But he didn't.

If he did, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. She was ineluctably sweet.

Her hips jerked forward in helpless little thrusts, chasing every last pulse of pleasure as her cunt gushed again, soaking the seat and dripping down her thighs in sticky rivulets.

Isabella slumped forward, chest heaving, her body still twitching from aftershocks.

Nikolai's fingers remained buried inside her, slowly stroking her through the final tremors as her pussy continued to clench and flutter around him, reluctant to release him.

Taking in her wrecked state, Nikolai leaned closer, "tilt your head slightly to the left and tell me who you see." His voice was feverishly hot against her trembling skin.

She obeyed.

Her head turned just a smidge and her eyes were blown wide.

Samuel.

He was looking at her, hurt flashed across his face.