Chapter 263: [R18]The 24-Hour Rule(2)
The doorbell rang through the room, cutting right through the heavy smell of sweat and that fancy citrus oil Zayela always rubbed on her skin. Nash stopped moving, his cock shoved all the way inside her, feeling her tight wetness squeezing him in slow, mean little pulses.
"Oh shit," Nash hissed, his fingers digging into her hips. "Zayela, get off, right now..."
Zayela laughed, this deep, throaty sound that made his dick twitch inside her. She rolled her hips in a slow circle, grinding down on him until his vision kinda blurred.
"Nope," she said, popping the word like it was a joke. "Rules are rules, baby."
Her fingers trailed down his chest, nails scratching just hard enough to sting, and Nash could smell her, sweet and salty, mixed with the oil, driving him crazy.
From the front door, a male voice yelled, bored as hell.
"Delivery for N.B. Gotta sign for it."
There was a loud thump as a box hit the floor.
Nash’s heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.
"This is insane," he growled, hips jerking when Zayela clenched around him again, her pussy fluttering like she was laughing at him. "He’s gonna see us, fuck—"
Zayela pressed a finger to his lips, her eyes full of mischief.
"Then shut up, this is going to be fun..." she whispered, grinning.
She wiggled out of his grip, grabbing this silky robe draped over a chair and slipping it on without bothering to tie it, so it just kinda hung open, barely covering her tits, and she had to clench it to hide them.
Before Nash could even think, she was walking, actually fucking walking, to the door, his dick still buried deep inside her. And oh god, the way her pussy gripped him with every step, the slick heat of her dragging along his cock like she was milking him, Nash stumbled after her, hands clutching her hips, trying not to groan.
And she wasn’t kidding, she really opened slightly the door.
The daily light poured in, lighting up the sweat on Zayela’s collarbone, the shine of oil on her skin. The delivery guy, a skinny dude in a beat-up uniform, blinked at her, his bored face cracking for a second as his eyes dropped straight to her chest.
"Uh, sign here," he mumbled, shoving a tablet at her.
Zayela leaned against the doorframe, one hand braced above her head, the other taking the stupid pen. Nash felt it, the way her back arched just a little, pressing her ass harder against him. Then her pussy clenched, this slow, cruel squeeze that made him bite his lip to keep from moaning.
"Thanks, sweetie," Zayela purred, scribbling her name with this dramatic little flick.
The guy swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.
"Yeah. No problem."
Nash could see it, the way the guy’s eyes lingered on her lips, the way his neck was turning red. And Zayela knew it too. She rocked her hips back, just a tiny bit, her pussy pulsing around Nash’s cock in this slow, torturous grind.
Fuck.
Nash dug his fingers into her hips, his control snapping. Zayela gasped, this soft, shaky sound, her thighs trembling as she fought to stay still, and Nash couldn’t stop the choked groan that ripped out of him.
The delivery guy’s head jerked up.
"W-what was that?"
"Nothing," Zayela lied smoothly, smiling sweetly while her pussy squeezed Nash’s cock even tighter. "Probably just the wind."
The guy shifted awkwardly, scratching his neck.
"You, uh... need help with the box?"
Zayela’s voice was pure sugar and sin.
"Oh, I’ve got everything I need."
And then she rolled her hips in this slow, filthy circle, grinding her ass against Nash’s pelvis, her insides sucking him deeper.
Nash lost it.
His orgasm hit him like a truck, his cock swelling inside her before exploding in thick, hot pulses. Zayela’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening on the doorframe as she came with him, her pussy clamping down hard, wetness gushing between them in a sticky mess.
The delivery guy blinked.
"You... okay?"
Zayela’s smile was all teeth, her sensual eyes half-lidded, chest rising fast.
"... Mmmh... Perfect."
The guy stared for a second, then coughed and shoved the clipboard into his bag. "Yeah... right." He stumbled back, almost tripping. "Have a... uh. Day."
Zayela shut the door with her hip, and Nash finally snapped.
He growled, slamming her against the door and driving into her so hard she screamed. His hips pistoned into her wet heat, balls slapping against her thighs, cock dragging against her swollen walls with every brutal thrust.
Zayela gasped, fingers clawing at the door as Nash fucked her raw.
"Fuck, he definitely heard that!"
"Good," Nash snarled, pounding into her harder. "Shouldn’t have teased me," he gritted out, hips slamming forward, her pussy squeezing him like a vice.
Zayela moaned, her body arching into his, tits bouncing wildly.
"Worth it... oh God...ah... fuck!"
He didn’t slow down, couldn’t, not when her pussy was milking him like she wanted every last drop, her juices dripping down his legs in a hot, sticky mess. He fucked her through her second orgasm, then her third, her body pinned to the door as he buried himself deep and came again, his cum flooding her in thick, pulsing ropes.
Outside, the delivery guy stopped walking, muttered under his breath.
"Fucking hot as hell... lucky bastard."
The box was still sitting by the door.
At midday, they were sprawled on the living room floor like lazy cats in sunlight. Nash lay flat on his back across the couch, his arms wrapped around Zayela’s hips as she sat on him backwards, her big soft ass pressing into his stomach while his cock was buried all the way inside her.
She didn’t even look away from the TV, some stupid reality show with loud voices and colors too bright, but neither of them cared.
Zayela’s ass jiggled every time she shifted even a little, her cheeks spreading around the thick base of Nash’s cock while her wet pussy hugged him tight. She still didn’t glance back, just reached for the pizza box on the coffee table, grabbing a slice dripping with melted cheese and pepperoni.
Nash’s hands squeezed her ass without thinking, his thumbs tracing the little dimples at the bottom of her spine before sliding lower to spread her cheeks apart. There, her asshole looked pink and shiny, and when he dragged a finger lightly over it, she clenched around his cock, a hot, wet squeeze that made him twitch inside her.
Zayela chuckled and bit into the pizza with a happy hum, cheese stretching between her lips before she turned her head slightly to offer him the other half.
Nash leaned up, biting the pizza from her fingers. Grease smeared on his chin, and Zayela licked it off with a slow swipe of her tongue, her hips rolling in a lazy circle that made Nash’s breath catch.
On the TV, some idiots were screaming at each other, and Zayela snorted, her laughter shaking through her body and right into his cock.
"God, these people are dumb," she said, even as she ground down harder, her insides fluttering around him in teasing little pulses.
Nash groaned, fingers digging into her hips, but she ignored him, reaching for another slice like nothing was happening, even as his cock throbbed inside her and his balls ached to cum.
In the bathroom...
The bathroom was foggy with steam, smelling like lavender bath salts and Zayela’s body. Water sloshed over the tub’s edge as Nash settled into the heat, his back against the porcelain while Zayela lounged between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder.
Her braids were piled messily on top of her head, loose curls sticking to her damp neck.
For a second, it felt calm, just the calm of the bathroom fan, the drip of the faucet, Zayela’s fingers drawing lazy patterns on his thigh.
Then, because she remembered she was a demon, she looked back at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, and clamped down, a sudden, tight squeeze that made Nash jerk against her, water splashing onto the floor.
His breath hitched, hips bucking on their own, but Zayela didn’t stop. She rolled her hips in slow, mean circles, her pussy milking him with every move, water rippling around them. Her stare was hot, lips parted just enough for him to see her tongue dart out to wet them.
Nash gritted his teeth, hands sliding up to grab her heavy tits, thumbs rubbing her hard nipples. Zayela arched into his touch, pressing her back against his chest, her ass grinding into his hips as she started riding him faster, desperate strokes that sent water splashing over the edge again and again.
The sounds were filthy, wet schlicks of her pussy taking him, skin slapping, Zayela’s breathy little moans bouncing off the tiles. Nash could feel every inch of her, the way her walls fluttered around him, how her body shook as she got closer.
Her fingers dug into his thighs, head falling back against his shoulder as she came with a deep groan, her pussy pulsing around him in tight, rhythmic squeezes.
Nash couldn’t hold back anymore. With a rough groan, he shoved deep and came, cock swelling inside her before pumping thick, hot spurts of cum that made her belly bulge slightly. There was so much it spilled out, cloudy strands swirling in the water as she collapsed against him, breathless and satisfied.
Outside, the midday light was at its peak, and they still were halfway to go.
Evening
The TV was on, glowing blue light over their bodies covered in sweat, another reality show, this time about people cheating on each other while Zayela threw her head back and moaned like she was the one being stabbed. Which she technically was.
Nash had his hands gripping her thighs so tight her skin would probably bruise tomorrow, his hips slamming into her over and over, making the couch squeak like it was complaining.
Plap. Plap. Plap.
The sound of skin smacking together was loud in the room, wet and steady, louder than the fake laughter from the TV.
Zayela’s braids had come undone a while ago, her curls sticking to her neck and shoulders as she rocked back onto him, her ass bouncing every time she dropped down hard.
Her pussy was puffy and soaked, squeezing his dick in little hungry pulses, her juices mixing with his cum and dripping down his balls in thick, sticky lines.
"You—ah!—fuck me like you hate me," Zayela gasped, looking back at him with a smirk, her gold eyes shining in the dark.
Nash growled low and flipped her onto her back without stopping, her legs locking around his waist as he shoved into her deeper —Squelch— Her insides clenched around him, soft and tight, her breath catching when he tilted his hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her whole body shake.
"I do hate you," he lied through his teeth, pinning her wrists above her head as he kept pounding into the couch. "Twenty-four fucking hours—hnng—how am I going to train tomorrow?"
Zayela laughed, but it turned into a gasp when he bit her collarbone, her hips jerking up to meet his thrusts.
"Poor baby," she teased, her voice breaking as he kept slamming into her. "Can’t handle your cousin’s tight little pussy?"
Nash didn’t answer with words. He just grabbed her legs and yanked them over his shoulders, folding her in half so he could fuck into her even deeper, making her scream as her tits bounced wildly, her nipples hard and rubbing against his chest with every move. He could feel her getting close, her pussy kept squeezing him in little spasms, her breaths coming fast and shaky.
"Gonna cum," she whined, her nails digging into his arms. "Nash—fuck—right there—!"
He kept hammering into her while she came, her pussy pulsing around him so hard it almost hurt, her juices gushing out between them as she yelled into the couch. Her thighs trembled, her whole body lifting off the cushions, and Nash groaned as he came too, his cock twitching inside her as he pumped another load into her already stuffed pussy.
Splurt. Splurt. Splurt.
Zayela’s stomach puffed out just a little, his cum leaking out around his dick and dripping down her thighs in hot streaks. She was limp under him, breathing hard, her legs still hooked over his shoulders as he licked up the sweat on her neck, tasting salt and her skin.
"You never get enough," Nash mumbled against her jaw, kissing her lazily.
Zayela grinned, tangling her fingers in his hair.
"And you love me for it."
Later, on the bed, Nash had Zayela pinned under him in that deep position, her legs pushed back to her shoulders as he rocked into her slow and hard. Her pussy was swollen around his cock, stretched and wet, her juices soaking the sheets underneath them.
"Yes! Breed me," Zayela gasped, her voice wrecked, her hands gripping the pillows. "Fill me up again—ah!—I wanna feel you leaking out of me tomorrow."
Nash groaned, his hips jerking forward as he obeyed, his cock pulsing inside her as he came again, thick and hot. Splurt. Splurt. Splurt.
Her pussy milked him like she was starving for it, her walls fluttering around him as she came too, her back arching off the bed with a broken cry.
They collapsed together, breathing heavy, skin sticking where they touched. Nash rolled onto his back, dragging Zayela with him, her head on his chest as they tried to calm down.
"We gotta wake up early," Nash said, his fingers tracing slow circles on her hip. "If we want to pack for the new place."
Zayela laughed, her breath warm on his skin.
"If you still got energy to think about that, baby, we ain’t done yet."
Nash shook his head.
"You never quit."
She pushed up on her elbows, her tits hanging over his chest, her nipples brushing his skin.
"Quit?" she teased, grinding her hips against his half-hard cock. "Or just making sure I do a real good job?"
Before Nash could answer, she climbed on top of him, her feet planted on either side of his waist, her hands on his chest. The light made shadows on her body, her curves outlined in gold, her skin shiny with sweat.
"There’s still two more hours before midnight," she whispered, sinking down onto him, her pussy swallowing his dick with a wet sound.
Nash groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she started moving, slow at first, then faster, her tits bouncing in front of his face.
"You always go so hard," he muttered, watching her body move.
Zayela grinned, rolling her hips in tight circles. "And you love it."
Nash didn’t argue.
Plap. Plap. Plap.
The sound filled the room again, and the night wasn’t over yet for them. Another great night in the worst, or best, world.
