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When you asked Mozart if he could teach you how to play billiards, you genuinely meant it. It’s one of the few things he enjoys in his free time, so you thought learning from him would give you two the chance to start playing together and share some quality time as a couple.
He’s patient when it comes to you, and he has no problem explaining the rules as many times as you need or helping you with how to hold the cue properly. His arms embrace you every time he helps you hit the ball, and his warmth envelops you, his voice soft next to your ear.
You start without even noticing, you’re just used to seeking him out and having him as close as possible. When he stands behind you to help, you arch your back a little more, pressing your ass against his cock. You feel him coming to life after each round, noticing how Wolf starts wrapping his arms more firmly around you, how his lips begin to brush against your ear as he whispers the instructions softly.
And you two keep this little side game going until he loses his patience and presses his body against you more firmly, trapping you between him and the billiards table.
You turn your head to look at him as best as you can, and his lips are on yours in the next second. He kisses you, sloppy because of the position, but enough to ignite the flame inside you. You try to turn your body around to face him properly and kiss him better, but he presses his body more firmly against yours.
“You started this, meine Liebe,” Mozart sighs softly in your ear.
He keeps staring at your half-lidded eyes, and it dawns on you that he’s waiting for you to agree, so you nod vigorously. He doesn’t waste time; he doesn’t need to wait any longer. Wolf makes quick work of your undergarments, helping you step out of them. He lifts up your skirt, then wraps one arm around you. His deft fingers go to your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit before easily pushing two inside you.
“So wet for me already,” he groans.
“Wolf…” You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as you let a moan escape your lips. You reach a hand back to grab his hair, intertwining your fingers in the white strands and pulling. He changes the angle slightly to thrust deep inside you, eliciting a louder moan from you.
Mozart pulls your shirt open with his other hand, and you help him slide the piece of clothing to uncover your shoulder. He grazes his fangs over the exposed skin, watching amused as you squirm in his arms and your skin prickles. But he doesn’t drink your blood, not yet. He peppers your shoulder with kisses and soft bites that don’t break your skin but will surely leave a mark behind. It excites you even more, and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he keeps the rhythmic pace of his thrusts.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he says, pressing his hips against you so you can feel his hard cock. “I need to be inside you.” You nod vigorously again, and he sighs, “Turn around for me, Liebling.”
Mozart pulls out his fingers, and you do as he says. He loosens his belt and unbuttons his pants, lowering it just enough for his cock to be free. Your eyes drift to the rock-hard member, leaking, its head almost an angry purple with need, and you whimper under your breath. He smirks and kisses you deeply, as rough and sweet as always, while grabbing you by the thighs to hoist you up to sit on the table. His right hand leaves you to align his cock with your entrance, while his left sinks its fingers into the softness of your flesh.
Your arms and legs lock around him, and he pushes inside you in one swift motion. The movement makes you break the kiss to stutter a moan, your eyes closing in pleasure. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and starts his rough pace. His cock hits you deep inside, reaching all the sweet spots that make you call his name non-stop. The legs of the table creak with each thrust, and your mixed moans fill the parlor.
“Wolf, you feel so good,” you say, your voice hoarse and laced with pleasure. Your hands fly to his white hair to pull him in for another sloppy kiss, your tongue invading and exploring his mouth in between pleasurable sounds.
“You too,” he growls against your lips. “So good for me. You take me so well.” He punctuates his words with sharp thrusts, your pussy clenching hard around him. “Getting close, meine Liebe?”
“Yes… Wolf…” You tilt your head to the side to expose your neck for your boyfriend. That’s all he needed, honestly.
Mozart grunts and takes your hair in his right hand, wrapping it around his fingers to pull it back, exposing your neck even more for him, and then he bites you. His fangs pierce your skin, and it hurts for only a second before you feel the familiar pleasure. You fist his white hair, and your other hand digs your nails into his shoulder — and you only don’t leave a mark because he’s still dressed. The feeling and the sucking noises add to the pleasure, and an almost overwhelming orgasm crashes down on you, your pussy squeezing his cock hard.
You keep calling Wolf’s name as a mantra as he keeps going, chasing his own release. Your blood is sweet, and he groans at the taste. Just a few more thrusts, he can feel it. Mozart shifts slightly, his left hand holding you so tightly it’ll leave bruises, while the other continues to grip your hair firmly. You whine, the feeling of his cock and the new angle making you get closer again. He pulls his fangs away, and the sight of him, full of desire with his lips stained with your blood, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and you cry out.
“Are you gonna cum again for me?” he rasps, and you can’t really do anything else but call his name. “Do it.” His hand slides from your thigh to your swollen clit, rubbing it at a pace that matches his hips slamming against yours.
Your voice is loud when you cum the second time, your pussy clamping down so impossibly tight that it brings Mozart to his climax. He gives one last deep thrust and holds his hips there, emptying himself deep inside you.
He stays there for a moment so you both can catch your breaths, then pulls out slowly, kissing you and deepening the kiss while trying to keep it sweeter and less rough. You whine at the loss of his cock inside you, feeling his release leaking out of your pussy. Mozart’s violet eyes shift down to stare at it, how it flows out, how your pussy clenches in an attempt to prevent it from leaking too much.
He smirks and adjusts his clothes in a matter of seconds.In the next instant, he grabs your undergarments from the floor and then wraps his arms around you to carry you bridal style. You yelp at the sudden movement, bringing your hand to cup your pussy.
“Don’t worry, meine Liebe,” he whispers, kissing your temple as he walks to his bedroom, thankful that everyone is busy with their own things. “I’ll help you keep it all inside.” His voice oozes sensuality, and your breath catches in your throat.
When he reaches his bedroom and locks the door behind him, you know the night is still young.