Moscow Mule - [Pierre Gasly]

XIV

WARNING: 18 + content. This chapter contains sexual scenes and should not be taken as educational. If you're uncomfortable with these subjects, please skip the first half of this chapter.

          Azar is the first one to open her eyes the next morning. She looks around the hotel room before sitting up, and seeing Pierre next to her, starfishing in the spacious bed. His arms were tucked under the pillow, the thin sheets somewhere on his lower back. Azar softly slipped out of bed, taking his shirt from the floor and slipping it on. She opened the doors to the balcony of the suite, met with a soft breeze and sunshine, something a bit different from the weather of yesterday. She leaned on the balustrade, curiously peaking down and watching the normal life of Monaco. They had stumbled out of Jimmyz late last night, Pierre was drunk but sober enough to make the short walk back to their hotel. Nothing had happened afterward, because he was out like a light. Not that she minded, she fell asleep quite quickly as well. Azar plucked at her thumbnail as it was torn a little, thinking back at how he asked her to be his twice yesterday. She gnawed down at her lower lip, shaking her head at herself. Azar liked the way they were dating now. No complications, no attachments. 

"Babe?" his voice woke her from her train of thought, and she moved inside, leaning against the opening of the door. Pierre had turned to his back, his arms folded behind his head. She scoffed as he was flexing his muscles on purpose. "Was wondering where you were," Pierre continued, looking up at her through sleepy eyes. "Enjoying the view," Azar replied, eying the way his Adam's apple bopped when he swallowed, his taut chest, his abs. Pierre chuckled, a lopsided grin curling his lips. "Come back to bed," he said, and she took a couple of seconds to look at him before she pushed herself off the wall and made her way over. Pierre admired her in his clothes. It had become a habit that she wore his clothes in the morning, or to bed, and he secretly loved it. Azar made her way over to his side of the bed, swinging a leg over him to straddle him. Pierre looked at her fingers that started to unbutton his shirt, slowly exposing more of her tan skin. He felt his cock twitching at the sight of her as she slid the sleeves down her arms, a thong the only barrier between them.

Azar trailed her nails down his chest, her lips twitching upwards at the effect she had on him. There was a soft pout on his lips, but he took matters into his own hands as his hand moved down his chest and slipped into his underwear. Azar leans back, feeling his fingers brushing against her thigh before he wraps them around his cock, slowly stroking himself. Azar digs her teeth into her lower lip as she watches it, his hand firmly curled around his erection, his chest heaving a little more as his wrist reaches the tip. "You gonna get up here, or what?", his voice rasps, looking at her through hooded eyes. Azar tears her eyes away from the situation right in front of her, moving over to lean on the headboard as she hovers over his face. His hands move away from himself to tug her thong aside, his palms on her ass, pushing her onto his mouth. She gasped as she felt his lips on her core, kissing her labia, before his tongue lapped at her clit and sucked the little nub of nerve endings into his mouth. Her fingers move into his hair, tugging on the roots as her other hand slams down on the headboard of the bed.

Pierre groans into her core as he continues to stroke himself, getting off on her sounds, her pleasure. He feels her thighs trembling around his face, a high-pitched moan tumbling out of her mouth as she came. Azar moves away from him to get a towel as he released over his abs. She threw it at his face, making him laugh as he cleans himself. She lets herself fall back into the sheets, draping her arms above her head and stretching herself out, watching as he came back from the bathroom and put on some sweats. Pierre moves to the end of the bed, looking down at her before pulling her towards him and hovering over her. "Why won't you just be mine?" he mumbles, kissing her cheek. Azar sighs at his question. She had hoped he forgot that she said that they'd talk about it later. "Why would we ruin something fun?" she replied, ignoring the way her nipples pebbled under the sheer touch of his fingertips drifting down her sides. "You're just avoiding the topic," Pierre says. "Do you think I'm fucking around with you?", Azar asks, leaning on her elbows. "Yes... No, I mean, you're not with other guys, it's just..." he gnaws at his bottom lip.