My lover is my boss (LingOrm)

27 - +18

Orm's pov

In the quiet confines of my apartment, Ling and I were nestled, a seemingly ordinary moment suddenly sparked with tension. Her eyes held a mischievous glint as she leaned in, her voice a low, teasing whisper.

"Orm, are you wet?"

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to brush off her question. "Stop asking that."

But she persisted, her voice laced with a playful insistence. "But you were?"

I hesitated, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks. "I... yes."

The admission seemed to ignite something within her. It was as if a switch had been flipped in her mind, and she moved swiftly, straddling me on the couch. Her proximity was intoxicating, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "I can take this desire away from you, just ask me."

"Ling..." I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Say, what you want me to do?" she prompted, her voice sultry and inviting.

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. "Fuck."

She chuckled softly, her lips brushing against my ear. "I want complete phrases."

"Ling, fuck me," I said, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.

"It will be my pleasure to," she replied, her hands moving to my shirt. With a swift motion, she ripped it open, buttons scattering across the floor.

"Hey, that's my favorite shirt," I protested, but she silenced me with a kiss, her lips moving from my neck to my mouth with a passionate intensity.

Her hands roamed over my body, pausing at my breasts. She unhooked my bra, her mouth finding my nipples, sucking, licking, and biting with a fervor that sent shivers down my spine.

"If nipples are made for babies to suckle, can I be your baby and suckle yours forever?" she murmured, her eyes locked onto mine.

"Just do it," I breathed, and she complied, her mouth working with a renewed intensity that left me gasping for air.

She trailed kisses down my body, her fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. Instead of ripping them off, she pulled them up, exposing my soaked underwear.

"Well, you aren't wet," she teased, her finger pressing against the fabric.

"Wait, seriously?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, you are so damn soaked that saying you are wet is a crime," she replied, her finger moving in slow, torturous circles.

"S-shit," I stammered, the sensation overwhelming.

"It's good, isn't it?" she asked, her voice laced with satisfaction as she increased the pressure.

"Put it in," I pleaded, but she only moved lower, her mouth trailing kisses down my thighs. She lingered near my covered private area, her breath hot against my skin.

She noticed my restraint, the way I was holding back my moans, and she moved back up, her eyes locked onto mine. "Orm, you can be right and cute outside of bed, but in bed..." she said, inserting two fingers, "I want to hear how much of a horny whore you are."

Her pace started slow, building gradually until it was almost unbearable. I needed more, faster. "Faster," I urged, and she complied, ripping off my panties with one hand, her fingers moving with a swiftness that left me breathless.

I closed my eyes, my hands gripping her hair tightly, but she grabbed my wrists with her free hand, pinning them against the couch. "Ling," I moaned loudly, my body arching against hers. "You better slow down, or I'm not letting you do this again."

She only increased her pace, her fingers moving with a relentless rhythm. "Oh? Big words for someone so close," she teased, her voice laced with amusement.

Suddenly, her fingers were replaced with something soft and wet—her tongue. The sensation was overwhelming, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I released a loud moan, my body collapsing with pleasure as I reached my climax.

She had cleaned me with her mouth, her tongue and lips working in harmony until I was gasping for air. Just as I was about to sit up and kiss her, she pushed me onto the bed, her lips finding mine in a hungry, passionate kiss.

"If you can stand, we aren't over," she murmured against my mouth, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. I felt a familiar warmth pooling between my legs, a testament to the power she held over my body.

She noticed it too, her hand slipping down to cup me, a wicked smile playing on her lips. With a swift motion, she ripped off the skirt I was wearing, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. "Turn around for me," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. I complied, turning onto my stomach, my belly pressed against the cool sheets.

Her hands found my butt, squeezing and slapping it softly until I was moaning her name. "Ling..."

"Fuck, you like it," she said, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and satisfaction. "My god, I'm dating a fucking whore." The words should have been offensive, but coming from her, they were a badge of honor, a testament to the raw, primal connection we shared.

She slapped my butt, the sting of her hand sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Harder," I begged, and she chuckled, delivering another powerful slap that left me teetering on the edge of release.

"Who do you belong to?" she asked, her voice firm and commanding.

"You," I gasped, my body trembling with need.

"Who?" she demanded, her hand squeezing my ass possessively.

"Yours, Lingling Kwong," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She released her grip, only to deliver another powerful slap that sent me spiraling into an intense orgasm.

"Shit, all this cum from only some slaps?" she murmured, her voice laced with awe. "You are really a whore, my whore."

I could only hum in agreement, my body still trembling with the aftershocks of my release. Ling's voice was a low growl in my ear, her words painting a vivid picture of our connection. "From now on, when that asshole tries to get to you, you will remember who sucks you, who slaps you, who made you cum just by touching your butt, and this..." She inserted two fingers into me, her touch sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through my veins. "You are wet again. I know you, and I know you fucking asshole was thinking about this for days now, wasn't you?"

"Y-yes," I admitted, my voice barely audible. She thrust her fingers deeper, her touch both a reward and a punishment.

"Since when?" she demanded, her voice firm and unyielding.

"Friday," I confessed, my body arching against hers. She bit my thigh, the sharp pain a stark contrast to the pleasure her fingers were delivering.

"Then hold onto this fucking bed because I'm going to fuck you in regards to these four whole days you've been wet about me," she said, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

"Ling," I moaned, her name a plea and a prayer on my lips.

"Yes, who do you belong to?" she asked, her voice firm and commanding.

"You, Ling," I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me. She smiled, her eyes filled with a warmth that belied the intensity of our connection.

"Fuck yeah," she said, her voice a low growl as she inserted her tongue, her touch sending me spiraling into a world of pleasure and sensation that only she could create. In that moment, I knew that I was hers, completely and utterly, and that our connection was a force to be reckoned with, a bond that transcended the boundaries of our bodies and delved deep into the very essence of our beings.