NSFW (+18) ୨ ꙳

NSFW (+18) ୨ ꙳

. ˚ ౿ warnings: smut smut smut ! maybe some english mistakes, english is my second language.

Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz would be the perfect boyfriends anyone could ever dream of. And you have them both… in secret. But that only makes it even more exciting.

You loved having them over at your place during the holidays, where the three of you enjoyed privacy in the beautiful apartment they had offered to buy you, but that you ultimately secured through your own effort and hard work. Your days were filled with Carlos’ pancakes, romantic movie marathons, and, inevitably, heated sessions on the couch whenever a scene sparked the flame.

You ignored the sound of the television as you settled into Carlos’s lap, his large hands spreading your legs and squeezing your thighs, keeping you fully exposed. In front of you, kneeling, Charles devoured you eagerly, savoring every drop of your arousal without letting anything go to waste.

His skilled tongue danced around your swollen, burning clit, which throbbed with a soft rhythm beneath his lips. His eyes lifted to watch you as he sucked slowly, drawing a shaky moan from you. Your back arched instinctively, forcing Carlos to hold you in place to keep you from writhing too much.

"Come on, cariño. I know how good he is with his tongue, but try to stay still." Carlos coos softly in your ear as he trails a series of slow, delicate kisses along the exposed skin of your neck.

Charles was drunk. His tongue moved as his fingers sank inside you at a precise angle, curling like a hook. Your body reacted instinctively, tightening around them in a desperate grip, as if trying to keep them there. He found that sweet spot within you—the one that made every fiber of your being ignite with a surge of pleasure.

"What a mischievous princess." Charles murmurs something barely audible before pressing his lips against your core once more, making your eyes roll back and turn white with pleasure. "That's it, ma belle. Quelle belle pute."