Chapter 979: Me & My Shameless Goddess (r-18 minor)

A top that existed in theory but not in

practice.

Her cleavage was on full, unapologetic display, a gold necklace resting against her chest like it had found the only place in the world worth existing, the pendant sitting right between the swell of her breasts like a compass pointing toward sin.

Those tits

—

already big before

—had grown even fuller, rounder, sitting high and proud, the deep valley between them catching shadows that made them look almost sculpted.

The fabric of her top stretched

taut

across the peaks, nipples faintly outlined, begging for attention.

I didn’t pause. Didn’t explain. Didn’t introduce

Genevieve.

Didn’t address the fact that Maya was still trapped in a hug she hadn’t consented to.

And Gen was

frozen

at the sight of such an impossibly beautiful woman.

I just walked to Isabella and kissed her.

No hesitation. No preamble.

My hand slid to the small of her back, fingers splaying wide across the warm

dip

just above her ass, pulling her flush against me with enough force that her breasts crushed soft and heavy against my chest.

Then my mouth

claimed

hers in one deep,

possessive sweep

—lips crashing together, no gentle brush, just raw hunger.

Her mouth opened instantly—soft, wet, already yielding—tasting faintly of the sharp mint she always chewed when she knew I was coming over, mixed now with the faint salt of her own spit and the heat rising between us.

Her tongue met mine without asking permission, sliding in slow and deliberate, curling around the tip of mine before

sucking it lightly into her mouth

like she was tasting something forbidden and addictive.

The kiss turned filthy in seconds:

wet, open-mouthed,

obscene. Lips slid and sucked, tongues tangled in slick, twisting strokes—hers pushing deep, mine chasing, thrusting past her teeth to stroke the roof of her mouth, then retreating so she could chase me back.

Every time our lips separated there was a soft, wet

smack

, followed by the quiet, needy hitch of her breath when she tilted her head to take me even deeper, jaw working, tongue flicking against mine in quick, hungry lashes.

I groaned into her mouth—

low, rough, guttural

—the sound vibrating straight down her throat.

She answered with a broken little whimper that shot fire down my spine, her tongue curling tighter around mine, sucking harder, pulling me in like she wanted to drink me whole.

Fuck, I missed being dirty with Isabella and right now we we’re in company of other and we didn’t care at all.

I know how she liked risky play and being watched... crazy woman, right?

My free hand dropped lower—

cupped

the full, firm curve of her

ass

through that

barely-there skirt

, fingers digging in hard enough to make the soft flesh

spill between them

, overflowing my palm.

She arched into the grip instantly, pushing her hips forward so her hot, clothed mound ground against my thigh. I felt the damp heat of her through the thin fabric, the subtle roll of her hips as she rubbed herself shamelessly against me.

I gave her one sharp

slap

—

not playful, deliberate

—the crack of my palm against her ass echoing in the quiet room like a gunshot.

She gasped into my mouth, body jerking, lips trembling against mine.

The sting bloomed hot under my hand; I

kneaded

it away immediately—fingers sinking deeper, spreading her cheeks slightly through the skirt, squeezing the tender flesh until she moaned loud and broken against my tongue.

Our mouths never broke apart—wet, sloppy, desperate.

Tongues sliding, sucking, fucking each other’s mouths while spit slicked our lips and chins.

Her teeth grazed my lower lip—

sharp enough to sting

—then

soothed

it with a slow, filthy lick. I bit back, catching her tongue between my teeth just hard enough to make her whimper, then released it so she could plunge back in deeper.

Every breath we stole was shared—hot, ragged, tasting of mint and lust and the faint copper of bitten lips.

Her hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head to the angle she wanted, taking control of the kiss for a heartbeat before I wrestled it back—tongue thrusting deeper, owning her mouth completely while my hand on her ass squeezed harder, slapped again—

CRACK

—and

kneaded

the fresh burn of her firm bubbly ass until she was trembling, hips grinding shamelessly against my thigh, soaking the fabric between us.

Behind us, Genevieve finally released Maya from the hug and stepped back with a bright, unapologetic grin.

Maya stood frozen, cheeks flushed crimson behind her glasses, green eyes wide and glassy as she watched her mother get kissed like that—watched my hand own Isabella’s ass in broad daylight.

Isabella broke the kiss first, just enough to breathe against my lips. Her purple-streaked hair fell forward like a curtain, framing those impossible amethyst eyes that were already half-lidded with heat.

"Missed you,"

she murmured, voice husky, lips swollen and shiny from my mouth.

"Missed you more,"

I said, giving her ass one last firm squeeze before letting my hand slide up her spine.

Maya cleared her throat—small, awkward, the sound barely audible.

We both turned.

Maya was staring at the floor now, arms wrapped around herself like she could hide those absurd tits if she tried hard enough.

But there was no hiding them.

They rose and fell with her quick breaths, straining the dress, the deep cleavage heaving slightly as she tried to steady herself.

Genevieve, bless her shameless heart, was still beaming.

"You must be Maya! God, you’re even cuter in person than Eros has told me. Those glasses?

Adorable.

And those—" She gestured vaguely at Maya’s chest with both hands, eyes wide with genuine awe. "

—are criminal

. In the best way."

Maya’s flush deepened to scarlet. She pushed her glasses up her nose with one finger—a nervous tic—and finally met my eyes.

Then her gaze dropped.

Lower.

To the obvious

bulge

in my pants.

She swallowed hard.

"No boxers, huh?" Isabella said, voice soft but steady, the quiet ones always finding their courage when it counted. She stepped forward—slow, deliberate—until she was close enough.

Her hand reached out, palm cupping me through the fabric—fingers curling around the thick outline of my cock and balls, giving a gentle, testing squeeze.

I hissed through my teeth.

Maya’s eyes flicked up to mine, green and bright behind the lenses while her mother was being a pervert right before her daughter.

"You guys said my boxers were a nuisance, no?" I managed, voice rougher than I intended.

She gave another slow squeeze—shameless now, thumb brushing the head through the material, tracing the ridge like she was memorizing it.

"It’s beautiful how you listen to your women," she whispered, lips curving into the smallest, wickedest smile I’d ever seen on her. "Always so obedient."

Isabella laughed low against my shoulder.

Genevieve and Maya watched the whole thing with wide, delighted eyes, like she’d just discovered Christmas came twice a year.

"Daily thing when they meet?" she asked Maya brightly.

Maya’s face tightened just a fraction—

"Something like that," she said softly.

Isabella leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

"Bedroom,"

she murmured.

"Now."

I didn’t need to be told twice.