The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 335: Craving each other

Then he held her by the hips, raised her a little so that her cunt was in position to take his cock.

With one single motion, he impaled her on his dick, making her squeal.

"AHHH!!"

She screamed and then fell onto him, pulling his hair.

Jolthar also moaned, but he started moving her hips up and down on his dick, and she too started thrusting against him. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the pleasure building with each thrust. Cleora’s nails dug into Jolthar’s back as he pounded into her, both of them lost in the heat of the moment. The room filled with their moans and gasps, a symphony of passion that echoed off the walls.

He locked his mouth on her nipples, nibbling them, biting them, and sucking them, making her feel the peak of ecstasy and pleasure.

She was trembling in his arms.

Jolthar’s hands were kneading her ass, pulling her hard against him with each stroke. It was like their bodies were lost in the bliss of pure passion.

AHh!! Jolthar! My bebe!!

She was moving faster and quicker with each second, her body rising and falling, her hips grinding against him.

Their rhythm was slow and deliberate, each movement building the tension between them. Jolthar’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements. Cleora’s breath came in short gasps, her body trembling as she neared her climax.

She threw her head back, her body convulsing as she reached her peak.

Jolthar held her close, his own release following hers, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and rediscovery.

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, Cleora collapsed onto Jolthar’s chest, her breath ragged. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "Jolthar," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "I don’t think that’s enough for me, daaarling."

And then they started again and did it continuously.

-

In the heart of Cleora’s chambers, the air hung thick with the scent of jasmine and the remnants of their passionate encounter. The moon’s silver light filtered through the grand windows, casting long, dancing shadows on the polished marble floor.

The room was a symphony of opulence, with rich velvet drapes and ornate furniture that spoke of Cleora’s power and wealth.

Jolthar lay on the plush bed, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the sweat on his skin glistening under the moon’s gaze.

Cleora stood at the window, her silhouette framed against the night sky, her long, wavy hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall. She was a vision of strength and grace, her athletic figure accentuated by the soft glow of the moon.

Her naked form was an art piece that seemed to come alive in the dim light, exuding a sense of raw power and sensuality that left Jolthar mesmerized.

Cleora turned, her eyes meeting Jolthar’s.

There was a softness in her gaze, a vulnerability that belied her powerful exterior.

She walked towards the bed, her hips swaying gently, her eyes never leaving his.

She climbed onto the bed, moving slowly towards him, her body pressing against his, her breath hot on his ear. "You are insatiable, Jolthar," she whispered, her voice a low purr.

Jolthar smiled, his hands reaching up to cup her face. "And so are you."

Cleora leaned in, her lips brushing against his. "We are two halves of a whole, Jolthar. We complete each other."

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the intense passion they had shared earlier. Their bodies and their spirits were far from sated, craving more of each other’s presence and touch. So they went at it again; the sounds of flesh beating against flesh, like clapping noise, filled the chambers, and her moans even resounded in the hallways, making the maids who passed by giggle and run away.

-

The sun’s first light barely pierced the heavy velvet curtains of Cleora’s chambers, yet Jolthar was already awake, his body pressed against the warm, sleeping form of the baroness. His heart pounded with anticipation, a familiar rhythm that quickened as he remembered the night’s passion.

Cleora stirred beneath him, her breath deepening as she began to wake.

Jolthar’s hands, strong and sure, traced the curves of her body, lingering on the swell of her hips before dipping lower. He felt her shiver as his fingers brushed against her, her body responding to his touch even in her half-slumber.

He leaned in, his lips finding the soft skin of her neck, kissing and nipping gently.

Cleora’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting his in the dim light.

A slow smile played on her lips as she reached up, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Good morning, darling Jolthar," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

Jolthar’s response was to press his mouth to hers, his tongue seeking entry.

Cleora opened for him, their kiss deepening as he shifted his position, his body settling between her thighs. He could feel her heat and her wetness, and it sent a surge of desire through him. He broke the kiss, his eyes locking with hers as he positioned himself.

Cleora’s breath hitched, her body arching slightly as he entered her.

Jolthar groaned, the sensation of her tight, wet heat surrounding him almost too much to bear.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm.

Cleora’s hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she met his thrusts. Her eyes closed, her head falling back as she let out a soft moan.

-

Outside the chamber, when the maids approached the chambers, the hallway echoed with unmistakable sounds—Cleora’s moans, loud and unrestrained, spilling into the quiet like a storm through glass.

Raelyn, the butler, had just arrived to greet Cleora but froze mid-step. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in a mix of shock and restrained fury. He stood still, fists clenched at his sides—but he didn’t dare step closer.