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“God, she's ridiculously hot,” were the words that left Rose's lips as she stood by her fiancée’s side. Juleka grumbled at her words, slightly offended by her comment. “Oh, Jule, we both have eyes and both like women, c'mon,” she giggled looking at the woman and gently caressing the silver engagement ring on her finger. Juleka reacted with an eye roll.
“You know who also has eyes and likes women?” she asked and didn't wait for Rose's answer before continuing. “My brother,” she stated with a pinch of disgust in her tone. “And he's been ogling at her for half an hour now.”
“Cut him some slack, Jule,” Rose said tugging on her arm.
The blonde smiled at one of the guests as they passed by. Rose knew Juleka's mood was affected by the fact that she was in the centre of attention of the party. But it was a celebration of their engagement after all. Who was supposed to be at the centre if not them?
“We both know they haven't seen each other in years and that they have history,” Rose shrugged and slid her fingers between Juleka's. “Let them catch up. Let them stare. They both went through a major glow-up,” she hummed and her eyes ran to the couple at the bar.
“I'm just scared for Luka,” Juleka mumbled as her eyes followed Rose's blue irises. “He really loved her when he was a teenager. It wasn't just some crush, you know.”
“And he got over her,” Rose assured quickly. “He dated other girls. He was about to get on one knee for Satine,” she added, not letting Juleka ponder about the state of her brother's heart and love life. “Yeah, he loved Marinette once upon a time, some feeling for sure remained. Every single person you loved stays in your heart forever in the tiniest way. We know that,” she explained. It was a talk she had with Juleka not so long ago. “Also I have to say, Luka was really ahead of the times by loving Marinette at sixteen,” she giggled in the most Rose way, it made Juleka smile.
Luka fell in love with a girl who always stumbled over her own feet and often stammered over her words. Although, everybody knew Luka fell in love with her as a person. He was gone for her because of how sweet she was, helpful, crafty and imaginative. However, without a doubt she was pretty back then too. Like a doll. She just grew with more of those great characteristics and into a flaming hot woman too.
“I think it was only a matter of time,” Juleka hummed. “She always had a gorgeous face and the fact that puberty kicked her into that tiny waist and a mile long legs only helped. She should be walking the runways with me,” she said with a smirk, glancing at Rose.
“Traitor, so you agree she's hot,” the blonde chuckled, staring at her fiancée’s face. Yeah, Marinette was hot. Her Juleka, however, was otherworldly.
“Ro, honey,” she chuckled a bit. “I think everybody in the world agreed that she was hot when those paparazzi pictures of her with Adrien dropped,” Juleka joked and Rose laughed quietly. She was reminded of the storm a few unplanned pictures caused.
Even Adrien's most devoted fans who believed they would date him someday came to halt, enchanted by Marinette. Everything worked for her in those pictures. Hair, makeup, dress from her own collection, the pose, light on her body. Her legs were stretching for a mile, embroidered minidress fit her like a glove. The pose they caught her, head turned over the shoulder, made her look so unbothered and cool. The paparazzi didn't even care about the supermodel holding her hand to help her get into the car. She was the moment.
Although, Marinette always seemed to be the moment. When she bursted through the door of the Grand Paris Hotel today she looked stunning. Heads were turning after her. She was still unthinkably sweet and thoughtful, though. Marinette crushed Rose in a hug turning into a pile of giggles. After that wrapped arms around Juleka mumbling something into her ear that made the model blush.
“I thought I'd get married and divorced three times before you two finally get engaged,” she laughed and she was kind of right.
Juleka and Rose dated for eight years. They lived together for five. It took Juleka this much time to finally decide to take the matter in her own hands and get on one knee. Ridiculously, Rose decided the same at the same time.
“Here's my gift,” Marinette said, pushing an envelope into Rose's hands. “Open it! I want to see your reaction,” she urged with a huge, excited smile spreading her lips. Juleka thought of some spa, Rose didn't really have anything on her mind. A pretty pink piece of paper definitely wasn't what they were expecting.
“You're going to make our wedding dresses?!” Rose exclaimed, reading what was written on the handmade card. She was positively shocked, excited. Juleka sported a wicked grin. If there were any runways she loved to walk, they were Marinette's.
“What else do you expect from a mere seamstress?” she joked and Rose went to hug her again, or squeeze her breathless. She also kind of hated when Marinette undermined her work calling herself just a seamstress. She was most promising and discussed designers of the new generation.
“Marinette that's huge,” Juleka breathed while Rose still held the girl in a hug. She was squeezing the life out of her.
“Well, I have to tell you in secret that I've been designing dresses for your hypothetical wedding for about seven years now, there are dozens of sketches. I'd be thrilled to finally make two of them come to life,” she chuckled looking at them.
“Oh my God, Marinette!” Rose shrieked again and the designer laughed harder.
Now Marinette was standing by the bar. A drink in her hand while the other led the straw to put it between her teeth. Her smile was playful, almost cunning. Luka's eyes were all over her. He held a grin that mirrored hers.
They stumbled into each other at least half an hour ago and Marinette was nursing her second drink. Just catching up to what they missed in each other's lives in the past six years. Somewhere along the way Marinette became more focused on what changed in Luka's appearance in the past six years, though.
He looked good. He looked great, actually. He was extremely attractive. The angles of his face got even sharper. His eyes were bluer than she ever saw, but maybe it was the light. Nonetheless, the thing on his face that stole her attention the most was his mouth. Particularly a piercing in a corner of his mouth. The single snake bite and a little black ring. Luka had to notice how her eyes strove there because his tongue went to the ring constantly. It pushed and spun it around in the hole. Marinette was weirdly drawn to it especially when he smiled. It contrasted nicely with his pearly teeth.
His hair still had blue tips, although they were a few shades darker, tamer. They were styled differently too, not so shaggy. Much milder, combed back on one side showing a bit of forehead. The thing that enticed her the most had to be his shoulders, though. She couldn't look away from how nicely the black button up was clinging to them. It was a very good shirt, she had to say as a designer. Form-fitting where it was supposed to but not tight. It had room in places where it ought to. Whoever cut it and put Luka in it, knew how to dress a man. It fit him perfectly, especially with those top buttons undone.
Shit, it was Luka. Her good, old friend. Why was the room so hot all of the sudden?
Luka could ask the same because his brain was blanking every time Marinette put the straw between her teeth. She smiled at him so mischievously he was gone. That was a lie. He was gone when he saw her across the room. Luka was just digging his grave right now. He should've tried to get his mind out of the gutter, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was stunning, gorgeous, ethereal. Luka knew he wouldn't be able to think, or write about anything else for months.
He was drinking in the view. He had always known she was beautiful. It seemed like she made a deal with Aphrodite in the past six years though. There was no other explanation but that she stole the goddesses face. Big blue eyes watched his every move. They weren't sweet and innocent like he remembered. They were sultry and slightly sinful as she fluttered her eyelashes. The red painted on her lips matched that of her dress. And her dress, don't even get him started.
He felt like a dog because his mouth watered. The dress shoved the expanse of the skin on her shoulders and cleavage, her gorgeous milky collarbones. It looked smooth and delicate, free of any blemishes. The rest of the dress hugged her figure until the hips where it flared out. Luka's fingers itched to grab her waist and feel the soft fabric. The dress flowed nicely down to the midway of her calves. It was modest in a way, until with one of her movements Luka saw the crimson fabric diverge. The slit went up high to her thigh. It messed up his head a little, a little much. His mouth went dry, he had to gulp his drink.
Marinette on the other hand felt a slight rush of blood when she had to lean back to look at him. He was always tall, towering over people but the way she had to tilt her head back to look him in the face was ridiculous.
He repeatedly bit on the corner of his lip, playing with the ring which systematically pushed Marinette closer to the edge. It was like he was testing her patience and she had very little at this point. Marinette was fighting the urge to climb him like a tree.
“Rose and Juleka got me a room upstairs,” Luka said and Marinette didn’t even want to start thinking about his voice. It was already doing things to her. “Do you wanna go there to catch up? It's a bit loud in here,” he asked and it was a big fat lie. The venue was a perfect place to talk. The music wasn’t playing even moderately loud. A perfect place to converse.
“Oh, I'd love to,” she accepted without a second thought. Marinette sucked on the straw leaving only the ice in her glass.
Luka gave his eyes permission to shamelessly check her out. She smiled at him slyly. He'd lie if he said he didn't feel a shiver run up his spine. He made a gesture for her to go first as they wandered to the lift.
“So why did they get you a room?” Marinette asked as they waited for the elevator. She glanced to where he stood straight and tall.
“I don’t have my own place in Paris,” he hummed, peeking at her as the doors slid open. “And staying on Mom’s boat would be an inconvenience for everybody and a security issue. That’s for sure,” he said and leaned against the wall of the elevator.
Marinette’s hands gripped the metal bar behind her back. She was doing everything in her power not to jump him right here, right now. He was taunting her, he had to.
“I’m sorry,” Marinette mumbled, trying to focus on his words, not how he looked.
“Don’t be,” Luka smiled roguishly. “World is my oyster,” he chuckled and stepped out of the elevator as the door opened. He looked back to her and she pushed herself from the wall following him.
“It’s good to see that fame boosted your ego,” she half-joked, because Luka she knew had a problem with believing he was as unmatched as he was. Also confidence looked good on him. So good in fact, her knees were a bit shaky. Luka pressed the card against the handle and pushed the door open.
“Who said it was fame?” he asked and turned to her. That smirk didn’t seem to get off his face. He let her through the door first. Once a gentleman, always a gentleman, huh?
“Whatever or whoever it was, it did you good,” Marinette hummed, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She put her purse on the ottoman and stood in the middle of the dim hotel suite. She turned around as the door behind closed. “And what now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Marinette was fighting internally. She wanted him to make the first move.
Somehow he looked even better in the moody lighting of the room. The sconces and bedside tables were giving a soft yellow glow that highlighted his eyes. They were darkening by the second, like an animal. His stride towards her was also animalistic, like he was about to pounce on his prey. Marinette gasped because finally, the game of cat and mouse was done.
She also gasped because her breath was taken away with the way Luka’s mouth was placed on hers. Ferocious, fierce, and powerful. He opened her lips with his tongue and Marinette let him. He swallowed her whine and his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth.
Shivers ran down Marinette’s spine as Luka's calloused fingers held her chin tightly. The other stroked the side of her exposed neck down to the shoulders. Her fingers dug into his biceps, she was kissing back with the same neediness. Nevertheless, it felt like Luka was trying to swallow her whole and she was willing to be his little delicacy.
“How about this,” he answered with a smirk, that same damn smirk, when they pulled apart. Marinette already forgot she asked a question.
“Please,” she sighed, catching a breath he took away from her.
If he was looking hot, he looked even hotter with the remains of her lip gloss on his mouth. That stupid lip ring glinted in the light. She had felt where it was painfully pressed against her mouth and she wanted to feel it more. Luka raised an eyebrow at her plea.
“Kiss me again, fuck. Whatever, touch me,” she let out. Her brain was already scrambled and he only kissed her.
“As you wish, Marinette,” he hummed and dove down to press their lips again.
This time Marinette had gathered some self-preservation. Her hands went to his neck and she pulled him down, closer. She wasn’t such a rag doll in his arms anymore. She gave his tongue a try. Her teeth tugged at his lower lip and licked over the ring. Luka moaned into her mouth. Fuck, he was hot. She could feel it even more meaningfully between her legs now.
His hands were caressing her sides, grasping at her waist and the structured panels of her dress. Luka freed himself from her lips, pressing a kiss into the corner of her mouth, then another one to her jaw right under her ear. He was leaving a trail of wet kisses down her neck. She automatically tilted her head back giving him more space. Her fingers tangled in the blue hair. Luka groaned as she tugged on them while he nipped at the smooth, milky skin.
Luka was entirely focused on her. He wanted to worship her. Fuck, Marinette was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and he was making her come undone in his arms. His hand slid to her lower back and then back up. He pressed his fingers against the cold skin between her shoulder blades. His tongue lapped at her neck at the same time. Luka bit at the skin where it met her shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a bruising mark.
Marinette whined into the air and pulled at his hair as she felt his teeth scrape against her collarbone. Luka wanted to hear her more. She sounded beautiful. He wanted it recorded and put in a song so he could play it on repeat all the time.
He slid off a thick strap on her shoulder, it was stopping him from kissing and nipping. The slice of fabric fell down to Marinette’s arm. He kissed and licked the apex of her shoulder. She was breathless under his touch. Still she found the strength to grip the hair at the back of his head tight enough to stop his movement.
“Kiss me on the mouth,” she tried to say with a threatening tone, but it sounded like a mewl.
Luka moved his head back to look at her and it was a bad idea. The fire inside him somehow got worse. Marinette already looked fucked out. Neck and collarbone scattered with fading imprints of his teeth. The strap of her dress hanging off her shoulder. Her eyes hazy with arousal and need. The red lipstick smudged from the kiss and the sounds she was making left her mouth hanging agape.
“Oh darling, your wish is my command,” Luka hummed with a smile spreading his lips.
He didn't wait for more pleas and kissed her with the gusto of an explorer. He was about to know every single nook and cranny of Marinette's mouth. Luka was about to learn how to kiss her to bring her to her knees in milliseconds. He was holding Marinette's jaw and waist. She gripped the collar of his shirt, whined into his mouth and fought his tongue. Luka loved how determined she was even though she was falling apart under his touch.
Marinette's hands were curious and slow. They left a burn behind them. Her index fingers slipped under the collar and grazed the skin on his neck. Luka felt a manicured finger move against his skin like a blade. The hands were on shoulders, then dragged down his arms and squeezed his biceps. She hummed into Luka's mouth at the feeling of defined muscle though the thin fabric.
If Luka was exploring her mouth, she was on her way to map his upper body. Her hands slid to his chest. Marinette shunned from the skin exposed by undone buttons, her hands were on his pecs and hard torso. Luka grunted against her lips as she dragged her fingers down his sides and then to his stomach. Marinette precisely dipped her two fingers between the buttons and pressed them against the hot skin above his belly button. She scratched as she withdrew her fingers.
Luka stopped kissing her, his lips again slid from her cheek to jaw to nibble at the skin. He squeezed at her ribcage and she gasped when he sucked and bit at the spot behind her ear. At once Marinette's hands went south and pressed against his tent in his trousers. Luka wasn’t even aware how much he needed it. He hissed at the sudden pressure.
He was hard, rock hard ready. Marinette felt it under her fingers. She only felt it because her eyes were squeezed shut as Luka kissed and abused her skin. His cock was bulging in the pair of really nice silk blend slacks, locked away from her by the leather belt. Marinette needed them off. She needed all of their clothes off and Luka on her. All over her.
“Get me out of this dress and on the bed,” she gasped as he nosed on her neck. She pressed the heel of her palm to his cock and Luka choked against her skin.
His hands moved around behind her, face pressed to her skin, hot breaths against her collarbone. Luka blindly tugged at the tiny invisible zipper on her back. It didn’t budge, he put more force into it.
“Don't you dare to ruin my dress,” Marinette hissed all of the sudden as she felt the yank on the fabric. She grabbed at his hair, tugging on it in retaliation.
Luka groaned. She wasn't sure whether at sensation or annoyed by her request. He rightly got behind her and his agile guitarist fingers were undoing the zipper. While he did, he got enraptured by wide expanses of soft skin of her shoulders begging to be marked. He pressed a kiss to one shoulder blade then the other one and in between them, to the ridges of her spine. Luka's lips followed where the zipper was getting undone showing more and more of the delicious skin.
God, he was going to die here tonight, wasn't he?
He left a trail of kisses on her spine. He gently pushed the dress strap off Marinette's shoulder. The dress fell to the floor with a soft thump. Luka was undressing her like she was a fucking queen. Red material pooled at her ankles and his eyes wandered up, from her calves, sensitive back of thighs to her ass. In the skimpy black lace, it looked delicious. The swell and the curve with all the blank canvas skin on her back. Perfect for his mouth to paint it purples and blues. Fuck, he needed to fuck her from the behind.
It took him two seconds to realise the black on her left hip was more saturated, almost like layered. He grabbed on it and he saw the lines of ink pop up behind the lace. He spun her around in his arms. Luka devoured the line of the tattoo that wrapped around her hip. It dipped and surfaced from behind the lace. His thumb dug into her skin and Marinette let out a hum. He looked at her with such hunger in his eyes Marinette hadn't seen yet. He went to kiss her with the ferocity of a starving man.
Luka grabbed her quickly. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of Marinette's thighs. Arms wrapped around his neck, she arched into his body. Luka felt her tits press into his chest and heard the dull thump of her heels hitting the floor behind him. He also felt the heat of her pussy through his shirt, pressed into his underbelly. Marinette was close with her tongue in his mouth wrapped around him, but he needed her closer.
Marinette was dropped to the bed, the kiss broken abruptly. She stared as Luka frantically unbuttoned his shirt while standing over her. She smirked at his eagerness and nervous inefficiency. Marinette decided to help, she slid closer to the edge of the bed and placed herself at the height of his crotch. She grabbed on his belt loop bringing him closer.
Marinette worked with clothes, she knew a lot about them. How to deftly take them off, too. Luka's trousers were around his ankles before he was done with the last button of his shirt.
She followed the line of his cock with her index finger, very playful as her nail skimmed over the black cotton of Luka's boxers. Marinette heard a shuddered breath when she found his head, a wet patch under her finger. She looked up to him.
Luka was so fucking hot from this angle. His undone shirt showed the lean muscles on his stomach and chest. He had a hazy look in his eyes when he looked at her. It turned darker when Marinette's hot breath bounced on his happy trail.
“What are you planning to do?” Luka asked as her hands found their way to his hips. Her fingertips played with the edge of the elastic of his boxers. She hummed and he felt the air she breathed on his skin. It made him shiver every time.
“Fuck you,” she answered seductive and the tip of her hot, wet tongue moved just above the elastic. Luka inhaled sharply and Marinette smirked to herself. “Give you head,” she added and her tongue pressed flat against the fabric and his cock.
Luka blinked and his underwear was off. Marinette's pretty, manicured hands were on his dick. The kitten licks on the tip before she took it in her mouth between those red, red lips. Luka groaned just at the image. His hand flew to her head trying to grab on anything, but despite the making out her hair stayed in an elegant bun. Marinette reached behind and pulled out a stick making them spill out. Luka's fingers immediately found their way between silky strands. She hummed when he gripped at the roots, holding her tight.
Marinette was good. She was almost too good, taking him slowly inch by inch. Her nails dug into the muscles on his thigh. Luka's eyes focused on her and she was the sight of immodesty and promiscuity. Her gorgeous, gorgeous blue eyes looked up at him, but they were behind the glaze of lust, watery as his cock hit the back of her throat. Her lipstick was smudged at the corner of her lip, hair fell on her face in strands, messy by his doing. The way her cheekbones were accentuated when she sucked around his cock was sick. She kept eye contact when she went back and circled her tongue around the head. It pushed him to the edge of control.
Luka was sure he died and went to heaven, or hell. This was most pleasurable torture he had ever endured. Marinette was pulling moans out of him left and right with that talented tongue of hers. He seemed to have sex goddess giving him head and he wanted to fuck her throat, badly. He wasn't going to lose his inhibitions, but the hand tangled in her hair was leading her just slightly.
It was the sighting of her hips grinding against the Egyptian sheets which made his hips jerk. His cock hit the back of her throat unexpectedly. Marinette sputtered around him but kept him there nevertheless, and swallowed around him. Luka had to pull her off his cock because he was way too close to spilling down her throat.
Marinette whined as Luka steered her away from his cock. He put his mouth on her, quieting her. Luka tasted the saltiness of his precum on her teeth. His hand was tangled in the hair of her nape, tilting her head fully to his liking. Marinette moaned into his mouth at the feeling, rubbing her soaked underwear and pulsating pussy against the bed.
“Fuck, who taught you that,” Luka asked breathlessly, tugging at her hair. He stared at her face and between fluttering eyelashes and sly smile of her red lips she looked utterly fucked.
“You don't want to know,” she smirked and grabbed at the open sides of his button, pulling him to her and on the bed. “Better show me what you learned while you were gone, rockstar,” she teased and grinded against Luka's knee that landed between her legs. The short contact produced a whine.
“Best believe I will,” Luka growled, the sound went straight to her cunt and made her throb. She watched as he took off and tossed the black shirt across the room. Marinette raised her hips for him to take off her ruined underwear too. Luka was already gone though, ogling her body.
Shameless, absolutely shameless he was. He couldn't even find himself to care when she had a body like that. Not even in his wet dreams did he see such an ideal. The dress didn't do much for her. She already had that tiny waist. His hands went to it and he loved the feeling of smooth skin under his calloused fingertips. Luka dropped his head to press a kiss against her sternum and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. God, she was perfect he was going to fuck her senseless.
“Touch me,” she whined and her leg wrapped around his waist pulling him closer. Luka chuckled into her skin. The feeling of his fingers gently, like a father, petting her sides from ribs to the hips drove her crazy. She needed his cock.
“I am, darling,” he responded with a hint of humour at her frustration. Marinette's neck and collarbones were already set with marks of his teeth, perhaps Luka wasn’t as light as he thought.
Marinette tried to move her hips to get something, anything as his tongue lapped between her tits. His mouth landed at the top of her boob and Luka left a bruise to bloom here. She hissed at the feeling, but the sound turned into a whimper when his lips closed around the hardened nipple. Luka was quick to learn how sensitive her tits were. When he did, his hands and mouth were on them. Kissing, nipping, sucking, lapping at the soft underside, rubbing stiffened nubs with his coarse fingers. Marinette was so responsive to it all, beautifully sinful noises leaving her mouth were like music to Luka's ears.
“Fuck, I'm going to cum if you keep going like this,” she breathed between a whine and a moan.
“Yeah? C'mon,” he encouraged her against hot skin. “Cum for me, Marinette,” Luka hummed and his teeth grazed on the pert nipple.
Marinette moaned and he hissed. Her hand in his hair closed so tight around his roots like she was going to rip them out. Her back arched off the mattress and Marinette choked on a sound leaving her throat.
Luka petted her sides with a mumble, “Good girl.”
Marinette wanted to tell him how no man had ever made her cum like this, just playing with her tits, but she was breathless. Maybe it was for the better, his ego wouldn't get inflated. Her vision was still a bit foggy, chest heaving and skin hot, hot, hot. She was coming down slowly.
She only felt Luka press wet kisses to her stomach, fingers moving in circles on her waist. It was the plan already, but now it was Luka's official desire to make her orgasm as many times as he could that night. Marinette was the hottest, most delicious thing when she came. He barely saw her face this time, but he knew it was otherworldly.
She tipped her head back, taking the deep breath she needed. She was getting dizzy. Marinette felt Luka lap at her hipbone where her tattoo resided. She propped herself on her forearms and saw him looking at her and his teeth caught at the band of elastic. Black lace against his white teeth as he dragged it down her leg.
Marinette got taken by his face, how the once styled back hair fell on his forehead and around his eyes. She had always loved the blue, it matched his eyes. Now something dangerous flashed in those pupils.
Luka already knew how getting Marinette's underwear off was going to be a pain with himself comfortably situated between her thighs. Thus, his fingers wrapped around the soft lace. Marinette's head snapped at the sound of a seam ripping.
“You asshole,” she gasped, clearly outraged. “Just because I distinctly told you not to ruin my dress, doesn't mean you could go and rip my underwear,” Marinette rebuked, the bit of exasperation made Luka's gears turn. He smirked at her and slid the destroyed lacy thing much more easily. It revealed her tattoo and Luka took notice of it.
The branch curved nicely around her hip, black ink healed well into her skin. It looked good and it was downright unholy how the branch bowed towards her pussy.
“That's a pretty little thing,” he hummed and pressed his lips to the inked flowers, inching towards her cunt. “When did you get it?” Luka asked, looking up at her. His hot exhales bounced just above her pussy. Marinette squirmed trying to think of the answer.
“Had it for a bit now,” she barely let out when he ignored her cunt to bite a hickey on her thigh. Marinette did everything in her power not to squeeze his head between them. She was already digging heel into his lower back to get Luka closer.
Reminded of the tattoo's she tried not to look at his arms and chest scattered with ink because she knew her mouth would start watering. She whimpered when his teeth dug into sensitive flesh and his tongue followed, lapping and easing the pain. Marinette wished she could sit on his cock and follow the edges of his tattoos with her finger, maybe tongue too.
Marinette gasped when Luka threw one of her legs over his shoulder, the other clamped her hips down to the sheets with his biceps. His face, and most importantly mouth, was finally in front of her cunt. Marinette's fingers got tangled in blue hair. She urged him closer with a tug and who was Luka to deny her? She choked on a breath when his lips were finally on her. The metal of his piercing was cold against her clit.
Luka usually preferred when girls sat on his face. It caused less strain on the neck and the premise of strangulation was kind of exhilarating. Once he got a taste though, Luka knew he could strangle himself in Marinette's pussy on his own accord.
He did what he knew best, devouring her. He hummed against her cunt when she moaned, sucked on her clit, dipped his tongue into her, loving her taste in his mouth.
Marinette should've known he was good with his tongue after she had the chance to kiss him, after she had his mouth on her tits and whole body. It didn’t fail to surprise her, though. She arched her back off the mattress and Luka ate her pussy like it was his only meal.
“Shit,” Marinette whimpered above him. “Fuck, shit, Luka,” she repeated, she was breathless and her second orgasm of the night was sitting at the precipice. Luka pushed it over with lips around her clit and his fingers inside of her. He let her grind down on them, lapping at her folds through the high.
“So good,” he mumbled against her cunt and turned his head to kiss her inner thigh. Even in the dimly lit room she could see his lips glisten. She just came but she needed him. Marinette needed him now. She tugged at his hair weakly, she felt like a useless rag doll after orgasms Luka was giving her.
“Fuck me,” she whined, trying to pull him up to her by his hair. Luka hissed at the feeling and got his shoulder unhooked from her knee. He hovered over her, hands pressed on each side of her head. “With your cock,” she whispered as he was close.
Marinette's arms were at once wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It was a heated one and she could faintly taste herself on his tongue. Luka was strong and big and she needed every single inch of him. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she pulled him closer. She could feel his cock nudge against her thigh. His groan and her hum got mixed in their mouths.
“Wait, fuck,” his voice rumbled when he pulled away. Marinette wasn't good at waiting in this state. She nipped at the skin right at his sharp jaw. “I need a condom,” Luka mumbled and stretched himself to the nightstand.
Marinette whimpered at the sudden loss of hot skin under her lips. She was having a great time abusing it, planting a big hickey on his neck. Her hands went to his stomach, his muscles taut as he leaned. He was hotter than hell. It was the only thing she could think about with her rotting sex brain. With great difficulty she stopped her grabby hands to enjoy the show of him putting on a condom. The grunt that left Luka's mouth as he stroked himself made her body tingle.
“I don't know if I'm not gonna cum in seconds like an untouched teenage boy once I get inside you,” he said with a chuckle. His palms caressed her stomach and sides before they landed on her hips to raise them slightly.
“Should've let me suck you off,” Marinette answered, her words were a bit breathy as halfway through her response he guided the head of his cock against her folds. She knew she was right, though. By all this time he'd be hard again. She pressed the heel into Luka's lower back to get him closer, but he didn't budge.
“Since when have you gotten so impatient?” he teased and Marinette wanted to answer. She really did, but he was pushing in and she waited the whole night for this. It punched air out of her lungs, her fingers clenched on bedsheets. He was slow and not in a tender way, but a taunting one.
Luka was so hot. All his tattoos, face out of the magazine and that fucking lip ring. He was even hotter with the remains of her lipstick on his face, eyebrows scrunched as he split her open with his cock.
“Fuck, you're tight,” came out of his mouth in a strained voice. He was gritting his teeth all the way there, fingers pushing into her hips. Marinette inhaled through the nose trying to get used to the stretch and burn. It was horrible, awful and so, so good, delicious.
“Move,” she whined, barely rocking her hips. Luka groaned at the smallest friction. He folded leaning over her to go for a kiss but he missed her lips. Marinette gasped at the change which caused him to somehow slip farther. Her body arched into Luka's, hands flew to his shoulders, nails left crescent moon marks. She turned head so they could kiss.
Luka's movements were diminutive, just enough to make her feel and sigh. He started slow and steadily built his tempo and roughness. He wanted her to go crazy, cry on his cock. He didn't account for bringing himself to insanity too. He grazed his teeth against the blooming marks on her neck and felt her little plush tits press against his chest. She was awfully close and her cries flowed straight to his ear and dick.
Marinette was wrapped around him like wet silk, everywhere. He moaned like a whore when her cunt squeezed around him. The faster and rougher his thrust were becoming the sloppier they were. He forced his eyes to stay open to watch her head already tipped back, spine curved off the mattress. Luka wrapped his arm around her waist driving into her. Deeper, harder, faster.
Marinette was a mess and she had to make a bloody mess out of Luka's back with her scratches. She tried her best, but her eyes were rolling back every time he fucked into her. He was hot all over her and inside of her. Marinette felt like she might pass out. The pleasure was building inside of her at rapid speed and she was going to burst. She choked, feeling his thumb on her clit.
“Luka,” she managed out, his face hidden in her neck.
“Cum for me again, darling?” he tried though the groan, his voice was low and raspy. He was at the edge too. Next, she was coming undone on his cock.
This time Luka watched the way her shoulders tensed, eyelashes fluttered before closing shut, how her nose scrunched the smallest bit and her battered mouth opened around a silent cry. The most beautiful picture of pleasurable debauchery. He fucked her through her high chasing his own release. It wasn't hard when her cunt clenched around him. His hips stuttered as he unloaded inside of her.
Luka collapsed on her body. His chest heaved and so did hers under his cheek. Marinette's jelly-like arms moved and she tangled her fingers in his hair. She was still coming down trying to soothe hormones rushing in her blood. Her pounding heart felt like she just ran a mile in a record time. Luka hummed into her boobs, Marinette's fingers felt gentle and sensuous in his hair, scratching against his scalp. It felt good to bask in the sweet afterglow. Nonetheless, Luka forced himself to move and slip out of her before getting the used condom off and tying it.
“You should throw it out,” Marinette mumbled, watching as he put it on the floor by the bed.
“God, not now,” he groaned and flopped on the bed next to her. He lied on his stomach. Marinette glanced at him and a smirk slowly appeared on her lips. Luka threw his arm across her stomach, his face buried in the bedsheets.
“Same, old, messy boat Couffaine, I see,” she hummed teasingly and her hand went back to his hair. “Nothing has changed,” Marinette mused, picking at the strands that were sticking up.
“Shut up, you've never found a used condom on the boat,” he mumbled, pulling his face from the sheets to prop it up on his hand. “I shared a cabin with Juleka,” Luka grinned, indicating it was the only reason. Marinette rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, not a used condom but there was definitely some stuff I shouldn't have seen,” she said and Luka's thumb caressed the tender skin on her stomach.
He huffed remembering a few separate times where teenage Marinette stood in the middle of the deck absolutely terrified, or flabbergasted all pink on the face.
“So why don't you find yourself a place in Paris?” Marinette asked and he hummed in thought.
“So I would stay empty most of the time?” he asked aimlessly. His fingertips went on an excursion down from her side to the thigh. “It doesn't make sense,” he murmured, his eyes following where he was skimming smooth skin with his callouses. It made Marinette shiver.
“Is that why you are never here?” she inquired turning her head to him. She watched the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, eyes hidden behind the eyelashes as he looked down. “You don't have a place and reason to come here,” Marinette answered her own question which was already rhetorical. “Luka,” she said, urging him to look at her. “This is the first time I've seen you in years because you're never around,” she let out and Luka was close to believing she was terribly exasperated by it, by his absence.
“Life of a rockstar, babyyy,” he sing-sung, tilting his head back and forcing a chuckle. He swallowed whatever her words were implying and whatever his mind was making up. “And if you saw me regularly you'd never jump my bones like that,” an easy smirk appeared on his face. The overly confident one that was begging to take him down a peg or two.
“Are you sure about that?” Marinette asked, her voice sultry and rich.
A wicked smile graced her lips and Luka’s were slightly agape as her fingertips danced across his jaw. The mischief in her eyes made him feel like they were at the beginning again. Maybe Marinette was a siren and he was just a sailor lost at sea.
“Hmm?” she purred and her head hung over his, nails tapping against his jaw and neck. She leaned into him with the devil in her eyes and he just stared breathless, speechless.
Marinette kissed him. She kissed holding his chin between her fingers. Slow and steady with power over him. He was at her mercy, following her lead. The smallest whine left his mouth when her teeth tugged at his piercing. His dick twitched against the sheets and he thought it had to be his fantasy. There was no way he was getting hard again that fast. Marinette had different ideas, though. Luka was in her hands and at her will.
Fifteen minutes later he was coming down her throat, like she had fantasised. Luka groaned and his head fell against the pillow with a thump as he saw her push in the drop of cum which spilled from the corner of her mouth.
“What?” Marinette giggled cherubically like she didn’t do the hottest, most ungodly thing ever. Luka felt like she had sucked out his soul through his dick. She fell on the bed beside him with an easy smile.
“You’re not in Paris all the time either,” Luka hummed after a while. He was still in a flowy post-coital state. Marinette laid her head on the pillow next to him. She was close enough that if he turned they’d be inches away. Luka felt her careful stare on his face.
“You’re right,” Marinette hummed, pressing her arm to the chest, almost like she tried to cover herself. Even though, there wasn't anything Luka hadn't seen already. “I’m always back, though.”
He glanced at her face. She was wearing a slight frown on her face.
“But you should understand,” Luka said, blue eyes following the vague lines on the ceiling. “You wouldn’t buy a place in Milan just because you spend one week a year there,” he pointed out, twisting his head to look at Marinette. He was met with her confused, longing eyes. She blinked and all the things Luka saw in them disappeared. Maybe he just imagined those.
“Well, it depends,” Marinette disagreed with a wince. “I would if Milan was a place where the people who I loved were. I’d probably spend more time there then, too,” she explained. The hand from her chest went to cup Luka’s cheek. She brushed the line of the five o’clock shadow with her thumb. “There are people in Paris that love you and miss you, Luka,” she said softly and he felt the puffs of her breath hit his lips.
He knew she was telling the truth, it was spelled in her eyes. It was almost like her blue irises begged him to think about it. He would. It was going to haunt his mind and heart from now on. Luka leaned in and kissed her soft and slow, almost innocent. He shouldn’t have had the courage to think of it as a promise.
“So what about this one,” he hummed, pulling away and tapping his finger on her inked hip. Marinette hid her face in his shoulder and groaned, she sounded annoyed. He smiled because it meant there was a nice backstory.
“Started out as a drunken mistake that had to be corrected later,” Marinette said. Her lips brushed his skin with every annoyed word.
“Very rockstar of you,” Luka chuckled, his fingers circling around the design. “Very cute too,” he added after a second.
“Thanks it wasn’t like that at first, I had to make sure of it later,” she snarked.
Marinette draped arm around his torso and scooted closer, pressing into his side. Luka wrapped his arm around her, his fingers grazed on the bumps of her spine. He felt her shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asked, pulling her closer to her chest. Marinette was focused, almost enchanted by, the tattoo on his chest inspired by da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. She followed the lines with her nails.
“No, I’m just cuddly and awfully touchy,” she replied, her fingers scouring the faint valleys and hills of his muscles. “You wouldn’t believe it, but it gets worse with age,” Marinette snickered and tilted her head to look at him with playful eyes.
“Really?” he asked quizzically and tugged her closer. She was halfway on his chest.
“Really,” she responded solemnly with an over exaggerated pout. Her lips found their way to his for what felt like a hundredth time that night. Marinette was pressed to him wherever she could, almost melted into him.
“Interesting,” Luka chuckled, holding tightly against his side.
Her fingers sprawled on his chest. Marinette soaked up the heat of his body. An unnerving thought ran through her mind, wondering whether every night would have looked like that if she wasn’t such a stupid bitch at sixteen. Marinette pushed it to the back of her head. It should stay here forever and never be voiced out loud. Although, she knew that past midnight in the darkness of her too-big-for-one-person flat it would come back crushing and leave her heartbroken all over again.
The silence between them was calming. His skin and muscles against her were warm and comforting. Marinette started to wonder if it wasn't all a dream. It was just a pinch too good to be true, all of it.
“What do you do now?” she asked, breaking the serenity of the moment. Marinette couldn't stand it. It reminded her of what she lost, what others had. “And don't say me,” she added before he could even think of it. “Any new music or other projects?”
He chuckled at her question a tad amused before saying, “I am always making music, Marinette.” She nuzzled her face into his chest. His skin was warm against her cheek. “Even now there's music brewing in my head, begging to be played,” Luka hummed and tapped her shoulder with a rhythm that moved through his head. “There is some stuff in the works, but I'm kind of taking it slow lately.”
“Taking it slow,” she repeated his phrasing. “Alright rockstar, getting tired of fame?” she teased and propped her chin on his pec. He grinned and Marinette thought she saw a miniscule eye roll. He petted her thigh and brought it to his body.
“Maybe,” Luka mumbled, caught in a thought. “A bit,” he added after a second. “A lot has happened in the past few years. Good things, bad things, just things,” Luka pondered looking at the ceiling. Marinette watched his face intently. She wasn't trying to read him, she just wanted to watch him. “All of it in the public eye, it gets kinda tiring.”
Marinette wanted to open her mouth and ask what things. She wanted to act dumb, like she didn't know. Marinette wanted to look like she wasn't opening every single article about Luka Couffaine her timelines served her. She wanted to seem like she didn't know how the media leaked the stuff that should've stayed private.
She wasn't going to admit to reading about the blossoming love of the French rockstar Luka Couffaine and actress Saline Reverdin. It made her sick every time she saw paparazzi pictures from walks and dates and red carpets.
She still looked at them.
Marinette just excused it as part of her job. Saline was on her way to become a style icon after all. That was why there wasn't any good justification for Marinette's couture house to refuse to dress her for the Cannes Festival. It was shooting herself in the foot, but Marinette just couldn't do it. She felt like she might've cried and vomited the second she saw that gorgeous woman who made Luka inconceivably happy. She would've put her in the most atrocious dress out of spite.
Marinette wasn't spiteful. She wasn’t in love with Luka Couffaine either. He was just an old flame. Old flame that she had watched burn out before her very eyes as she did nothing to upkeep it. She deserved to live in the cold now.
In the end she didn't ask Luka what things because he wasn't going to tell her. He wasn't going to spill aching secrets of rejected engagement to a naked girl in his hotel suite. About how he got on one knee for a woman he loved and she said no. How the media found out and made a huge deal out of it.
Marinette's head hurt when she thought about it. The immeasurable hurt. Fuck, he didn't deserve it. What was his luck with girls who shattered his heart into pieces when millions would kill for a man like him? She would kill for a man like him. Marinette was sure Saline would kill for a man like him, when she came around.
“I think you'd understand that, though,” Luka broke her out of her thoughts. Fuck, she was here with him, still. She came on his cock and blew him. He had his hands on her. It was real. “You're getting pretty popular from what I heard,” he said with a hint of humour in his voice.
“Not anywhere close on your scale,” Marinette mused and shifted.
She had to shake it off. It was easy when she had him naked here. Marinette was face to face with him, their noses brushed. She felt his breath come out in puffs against her lips.
“It's truly amazing I managed to pull you,” she hummed close to his lips, staring him into the eyes. She had him tonight, for one night and she was going to make it count. “I've always wanted to fuck a rockstar, you know?” she smirked before kissing him. He made an oomph sound, tugged her closer, grabbed her neck and opened his mouth wider.
“Did I meet your expectations?” Luka asked with a raised eyebrow when she peeled away from him. His hand was on her ass. He languidly palmed and squeezed the smooth flesh. Marinette hummed with her lips puckered in a fake reverie.
“I'm not sure,” she smirked, twirling a strand of his hair on her finger. “I think you should show me more, so I can make up my mind,” she delivered and Luka was absolutely gone for her.
She had to be a devil reincarnate. How did that sweet little Marinette turn into such a teasing, foxy woman? Desire was sparkling in her eyes. She was doing things to him, to his cock, and very possibly to his heart. Luka wasn’t going to think about it at the moment. Maybe her touch just re-soldered the synapses in his brain.
“Let's see what I can do,” he grinned and in one movement accompanied with a squeal and she was under him.
He was going to deliver on his promise. She was good, pawing at his chest, getting lost in a feverish kiss, weak moans filtered into Luka's mouth. Her hand on his dick. He was hard again.
Fucking her from behind was even better than he imagined. Pretty ass, pretty back, pretty girl under him. Marinette was so responsive. His thrusts made her fall to her elbows, hiding her face and muffling her gorgeous voice in the sheets. Luka covered her, buried himself deep in her cunt. He couldn't stop himself from biting at her neck and shoulder blades. He thrived for her little whimpers and gasps.
Marinette's whiny rendition of his name was the only thing Luka wanted to be called. She sobbed when he hit the spot, it was almost effortless in this position. He was making her fall apart with ease as his thrusts were becoming harder and faster. Luka would've been scared to snap her in half if Marinette wasn't begging him for more. She came around his cock, fingers barely brushing her clit. He wasn't far behind, filling another condom full of cum.
“Stay like this,” Luka ordered, slipping out of her. Her thighs hurt and knees felt like jelly but she obliged.
The rustle behind her was lost on Marinette. Hands gripped her hips and dragged her down. Marinette let Luka manhandle her, until she realised he was lying between her legs directing her to hover over his face. She whined when he held onto her thighs and licked a long stripe.
“Fuck, Luka, I just,” she gasped every word came out chopped.
Marinette let out a cry when he hummed. The vibrations went straight through her very sensitive cunt. Luka seemed to have a field day with it, judging by how his eyes sparkled when she looked down at him. Marinette's fingers tangled into his hair.
“I don't know if I can–,” she started again but didn't finish. The sentence was prematurely cut short by a moan. Luka knew she could.
He grabbed her hips and brought her closer to his mouth. He dug his fingers into soft skin so she couldn't break away instinctively. Luka wanted her to ride his face. The way her fingers anchored themselves in his hair told him she would. He opened his eyes to look at Marinette and from this angle she still looked fucking gorgeous and the hottest. Luka groaned against her clit, it made her shudder. He worked his tongue between her folds. Marinette tasted so good he was lost in the pleasure of pleasuring her. He drank her whines and whimpers like they were ambrosia.
Marinette grinded her hips and pressed harder against his tongue. The moan she climaxed with was high pitched, like nothing Luka had heard from her previously. He lapped at her cunt through her high and didn't stop. She squirmed against his mouth. Her legs were giving up and her pussy was being abused. The oversensitivity was painful and Marinette felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes. She tried to move away but Luka held her in place. The stimulation was sweetly measured between painful and pleasuring. Her muscles shook, she couldn't feel her body and her brain was overwhelmed, bluescreening.
“God, Luka,” Marinette was babbling. Maybe she was seeing one. If she didn't, she was pretty sure she was on her way. Either that or Luka was God.
God between her thighs, eating her pussy like it was his last meal. When did he learn that? Was he always this good? He was naturally great with his words, his tongue spoke terrifically in his songs. He made her cum just with his mouth on her tits. Marinette was jealous of all the girls who got to experience this before her.
Luka drew another two orgasms out of her with his mouth. She choked on air with the last one and a tear rolled down her cheek from stifling bliss. He seemed to turn blood in her veins into golden streams of delight.
Marinette collapsed on the sheets. Through her clouded gaze she watched how his chin glistened with her wetness. His lips seemed to be redder, he licked them and his lip ring before wiping his face of her juices. Luka laid next to her and gently removed the hair stuck to the sweat on her face. Marinette's chest was still heaving as she tried to come down. She was tired, utterly spent.
“You're a–,” came croaking out of her mouth, she gave up on continuing. Luka chuckled, his jaw slightly hurt from his endeavour.
He gently caressed Marinette's hair and forehead, soon her face. The tips of his calloused fingers grazing soft skin. Luka was watching her intently. He tried to remember every detail, taking a photo with his eyes. He was going to keep that picture buried deep in his memory. He already knew it would resurface at the worst possible moments to taunt him.
Luka wasn’t going to admit that but he felt like the ground was collapsing under his feet. He thought Marinette was gorgeous and sexy downstairs in a red dress with a drink in her hand. Then he got to undress her and she was even more of that when naked. He fucked her and she was the most beautiful, enticing woman he has ever seen. Now, she was lying completely wrecked, limp, hazy stare, sweaty flushed cheeks and her body scattered with the bites he left. He couldn’t find words to describe her. A vision of utter sin, exaltation, delightful heaven. Luka feared that now after he saw her and tasted it, he wouldn't ever want to be with another woman.
He couldn't keep his hands to himself. It was like his hands and Marinette’s body were two different magnetic poles and they pulled, and pulled, and pulled. Her skin was so smooth and soft. It felt plush under his fingers as he caressed her sides from ribs to thighs.
Marinette purred at the touch. Luka drew her closer to his chest, remembering her previous cuddly comment. She was like a doll in his arms. He'd be concerned if it wasn't for the sweetest smile on her lips and gentle hum. She hid her face in his neck.
Marinette basked in a carnal aftermath that lasted longer and was stronger than usual. Luka might've eaten all her vital powers though her pussy. It was good to lay in his arms after that, a full package. So good in fact she could crash, her eyelids were heavy and her body was rapidly heading into a sleepy state. She didn't want to sleep, not while she had Luka in bed. Marinette felt his cock pressing against her stomach half-mast. Where did this fucker get his libido? A deal with the Devil?
“I might fall asleep, you wrecked me,” Marinette voiced against his skin. She could taste the saltiness of sweat on his neck against her lips. Her eyes were becoming really heavy, invisible weights on her eyelashes. She felt Luka's body shake slightly and a chuckle left his mouth.
“And I'd do it again,” he said lightly. Marinette would beg him to do so, now that she knew what it entailed. “Take a nap, Marinette, I'd be there when you wake up,” Luka said and stroked her head. His fingers played with the strands of her hair.
“You'd better, otherwise I might think I've dreamt it up,” she grumbled, pressing herself deeper into his body. “And I still want to ride you,” she hummed less than half-lucidly. Luka squeezed her hip at the need laced declaration.
Luka kept his promise. Marinette woke up half an hour later with him wrapped around her. Marinette kept her promise too. In contrast to their previous action she was slow, soft and sleepy on his cock. Still somehow incredibly calculated in her movements. Her touch was light but left tracks of fire on his skin, fingers traced contours of the tattoos on his chest and arms. Marinette was almost more focused on them than his cock. The pads of her fingers were so diligent, religious in studying the lines of ink under his skin. Luka felt his breath hitch ever so often.
Marinette leaned and kissed a moon under his collarbone. The press of her hot lips against his skin seemed to ignite even more fire. She kissed the twin one, mirrored under the other collarbone. Slow and sensed. Luka was watching her. His eyes heavy with desire. His chest heavy with something like love.
It was bad.
He knew he should flee before it got worse. He couldn’t. Marinette was everything he had ever wanted. The muscle in his chest squeezed at her sight, his brain turned into a puddle.
“And this?” Marinette asked, causing him to focus on the world outside, not just her. Her fingertips followed the outline of the hummingbird on his ribs. Luka let out a shaky breath at the movement of her hips and the press of her fingers.
“In Chicago, three years ago, I think,” he answered, his digits dug into the flesh of her thighs. If Luka wanted to have anything tattooed right now it was the picture of her like that, sitting content on his cock, and he'd get it on the back of his eyelids. This way he'd be the only person to see it and he could every time he closed his eyes.
“It’s pretty,” she said, her eyes going from the tattoo to his face. “You’re too,” Marinette decided and leaned over him. It made her gasp, Luka felt it too. “Very handsome,” she murmured as her face loomed over Luka’s. He was breathless when she kissed him and moved her hips like a nympho.
Gone was slowness and sweetness. She moved fast and deliberately. Marinette was gasping for air as she pleasured herself on his cock. Beautiful, confident, harsh. She kissed Luka focusing on the lip ring and made his head spin, even though he was laying down.
“Get a place in Paris,” she gasped between the bruising kisses and slams of her cunt against his balls.
His cock felt perfect in her, like Luka was moulded just for her. She was bringing them both to climax, rapidly. Marinette didn’t keep count which one was it for her and Luka wasn’t sure if he had anything in him to cum with. He drank the moans spilling from her lips and held her close.
“Get a place in Paris or just stop by my bed.”
You already live in my heart, but to say that Marinette would need to be more than high off his fiery touch.