#ref: noah x paloma

[writermuses]

@velvetrogue

[writermuses]

Noah's grip tightened around Paloma's waist and every thrust became more forceful, more desperate. He could feel her building, her body arching against his and her cries of pleasure had his own drive escalating. Wanting to hear her break, to watch his girlfriend surrender completely to him, had Noah burying his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her sweat and arousal. His teeth nipped at her ear. "Come for me, Angel. One more time." His voice hoarse, straining as he tried to stave off his own release when she was gripping him like a vice. "Come for Daddy."

He didn't slow his pace until Paloma's body convulsed, the room still echoing with the sound of skin on skin. It was her nails digging into his back as she reached her peak that had Noah following shortly after. It was an explosive, loud and immediate, no stuttering of hips or time to warn her. Noah buried his cock deep within her, throbbing and filling her with his spend. Only when his breathing seemed to settle did he find the energy to kiss her in appreciation. They lay spent for a moment, their bodies intertwined, breathing in tandem. Noah rolled over but pulled Paloma close and traced lazy circles on her back, a sense of contentment washing over him. "You're mine, Angel," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I love you everything about you so much, Paloma." He knew that he should get up and clean her up, get her something to drink, but Noah wanted one more minute with her in his arms.

Paloma cried out when Noah suddenly pumped into her three times with deep, sharp thrusts. With a grin across his lips, he began teasing her about being greedy, and whilst deep down Paloma knew she wouldn’t be that way if not for his actions, she also couldn’t help but give him exactly what he wanted. “I’m… I’m not greedy, Da… Daddy…” Paloma managed to get out, amidst heavy breaths. Noah kept his hard thick cock buried deep inside her cunt, the feeling of being stuffed therefore making Paloma start to squirm again whilst she whimpered, “I’m your go… good, baby… girl, Daddy!” in response to Noah’s next set of words. It remained a struggle for Paloma to speak given the arousal overwhelming her, but not wanting to let Noah down, she compelled herself to add, “My… pussy… was… made… for… you…” before succumbing to yet more whines and whimpers. 

As Noah kept working her on his length, Paloma moved in time with his motions. She also let him toy with her body as he pleased, and when he spread her legs apart, Paloma found it within her to make them spread just that little bit further beyond where he’d moved them. In just a few moments, Noah moved her up as he went down onto his back, the sudden change making Paloma gasp in surprise before he began quickening his pace. “Oh god!” Paloma cried right before a flurry of cries, shrieks, and moans began flowing from her, prompted by the sudden, unrelenting pace of Noah drilling his cock into her. The sound of their skin slapping together mixed in with Paloma’s cries, as did the sheer wet sound of her slick cunt being pounded over and over, a soundtrack that only Noah had ever properly elicited from her. 

@writermuses

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

[writermuses]

@velvetrogue

[writermuses]

@velvetrogue

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

@midnightsaboteur

[writermuses]

Noah smiled at Palmoa, having kept quiet as he admired the glow of candlelight on her dewy skin. He had been trying to figure out the best way to spoil her for the great success of her novel. The Tiffany charm bracelet seemed like an appropriate choice, where he could get her something to add for each of her future books. The Cartwrights were notoriously poor gift givers, but Noah was confident with this one. The first charm was already attached; a custom made, rose gold, and diamond encrusted seven. Reaching out, he tapped her chin gently. "You can guess all you want, mi reina, but you won't tell you. I don't want to risk missing out on this pretty face experiencing probably the only gift I'll ever get right." With a deep, throaty laugh he kissed the peak of her knee, poking just out of the hot water before leaning back again to watch her, his hands slipping under the surface to gently stroke her calf.

Open Starter

Paloma Madrid Ferrero - 26 years old, bisexual, crime novelist

(This is the beta editor version. The legacy editor version can be found here.)

Of all the rooms in the large and secluded home on the rural outskirts of Madrid, Paloma found the master bathroom to be her favourite. She had purchased the property with the first royalty cheque from her surprise hit novel, The Dead Sing at Seven, and Paloma could think of no other place she’d rather ever live. Within the bathroom, the claw foot tub was the standout feature and Paloma often found she did her best thinking when soaking in the bath. With a litany of scented candles burning all around the room that night and a glass of white wine within arm’s reach, Paloma reclined with comfortable ease. She would’ve been relaxed with just those items, but the figure on the other side of the tub made the situation all the more soothing. A bath was nice, but always so much better with a companion.  

“A gift, huh? You are so full of surprises,” Paloma mused as soon as the other had referred to a present, her gaze flicking to the slender black box they lifted up from a hiding spot to hand to her. Paloma took it in hand and ran it through her fingers, mind ticking with what could lay inside. “I could open it now… or would it be more fun to try and guess what it is?” Paloma left the statement lingering in the air as she continued working the box through her fingertips, analysing every last inch of it. Could it be something related to her writing? An intricate gift or reward? A tool for seduction, perhaps? Or, as Paloma began to suspect, was it something far more personal to the figure she lay opposite?