The urgency of desire had been postponed by the risk, the adrenaline, and the need for survival. Now, thousands of miles from the mansion, hidden in an anonymous suite of a boutique hotel in Nice, the desire could no longer wait. The jet had landed on the private runway barely two hours ago. Mario's first action had been to secure a temporary refuge, and his second, to ensure Claudia would not be separated from him. They had changed out of their travel clothes into hotel silk robes, but the danger still throbbed between them.
The air in the room was heavy, not only with the scent of expensive bathroom soap but with Claudia's floral perfume that always accompanied her presence. The adrenaline rush, the danger, and the victory over Eleanor had transformed into a mutual, ravenous appetite. Claudia approached Mario, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning firmly, looking at the city through the window.
"Do you need anything, Mario?" she asked, but she was no longer the nurse. Her voice was a husky whisper, loaded with double meaning. Her fingers accidentally brushed the edge of his silk robe, close to his groin, and he caught his breath.
Mario did not respond with words. Instead, his gaze locked onto her, burning, almost challenging. Claudia felt the weight of that silence as a command. With deliberate slowness, she closed the distance. In the hotel, there were no uniforms to unbutton. Only the slippery silk of her robe. She slid the fabric open, revealing her perfect body, the black lace lingerie she had packed in her small suitcase, and the truth of her desire.
"We shouldn't, we are in danger," Mario murmured, but his voice lacked conviction. His hands, trembling, rested on her hips, pulling her toward him with an urgency he could not conceal.
"Shouldn't we?" Claudia arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. "You just left your wife, you risked your freedom for me, and you have a forbidden file in your head. Do you think this is a child's game, my love?"
The mention of his wife made him tense, but instead of backing away, his fingers dug harder into her flesh. Claudia whimpered softly, the sound escaping her throat as a moan of submission and arousal. The scent of Mario's dry pine cologne mixed with the sweat on her own skin.
Without a word, Mario took her hand and gently dragged her toward the suite's bathroom, a spacious area with cold marble walls. The door closed with a definitive click, isolating the outside world. The sound of running water in the shower filled the silence, but neither of them moved toward it. Instead, Claudia dropped to her knees in front of him, her trembling hands unbuckling the belt of his robe with eager movements.
Mario's penis sprang free, thick and throbbing, the head swollen and glistening with excitement. Claudia couldn't resist. She extended her tongue, licking the salty pre-cum with a groan of satisfaction, before enveloping her lips around the glans, sucking forcefully.
"Fuck!" Mario threw his head back, his fingers instantly tangled in her hair, squeezing until the pain mixed with pleasure. "Like that, like that..."
She needed no further instruction. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, letting her saliva slide down her chin as she swallowed him, inch by inch, until she felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. Her hands massaged his testicles, heavy and full, while her tongue traced circles around the shaft.
"Do you like how I suck your cock, fugitive?" she asked, pulling back just enough to speak, her hot breath grazing his sensitive skin. "Or do you prefer me to swallow it whole like a good bitch?"
Mario growled, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably, forcing her to take him deeper. Claudia moaned around his length, the sound vibrating along his shaft, causing his thighs to clench. This was about him. About making him lose control, about showing him that, despite his immobility, she was the one who set him free.
"Keep going," he gasped, his voice ragged. "Don't stop, please."
Claudia obeyed, moving her head with relentless rhythm. One of her hands slid to her own chest, pinching her hard nipple through the lace, the sharp pain sending a direct jolt to her clitoris. She was so close to coming just from that, but she held back. Not until he did. Not until she felt his hot semen flooding her throat.
"I'm going to come!" Mario warned, his voice a guttural roar, his fingers squeezing her hair until her scalp burned.
Claudia did not pull away. Instead, she stared up at him, her dark eyes shining with defiance as she took him to the hilt one last time. And then she felt it: the first hot, thick spurt hitting the back of her throat, followed by another and another, until her mouth filled with his salty, bitter taste. She swallowed everything, every drop, licking the tip with obscene slowness as he trembled, exhausted.
When they finally separated, Claudia wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her breathing ragged. Mario was panting, his chest rising and falling with effort. This had been the validation of their escape.
She rose, her body slick with arousal. With slow movements, she returned to the room, sat on him, and without a word, straddled his lap. She took his cock, still sensitive and semi-erect, guiding it toward her slippery entrance.
"Like this, darling," she whispered, lowering herself onto him with exquisite slowness.
Mario felt his glans sink into her tight warmth, how her internal muscles hugged him. Claudia moaned, her hands resting on his torso as she let herself drop completely. She rode him with a ferocity that left him breathless, her thighs clamping around his hips.
She increased the pace, her hips slamming against his with a primal sound. Mario felt the orgasm returning, a more controlled but equally devastating wave.
"I'm going to come again!" he warned, his words almost a scream.
"Do it!" Claudia yelled, digging her nails into his shoulders. "Fill me up, my love! I want to feel your hot milk!"
And then, with a final thrust, Mario came inside her. Claudia screamed, her body shaking as her own climax shook her, her internal muscles clenching.
For a long moment, there was only silence, broken only by their ragged breaths. Claudia collapsed on him, her breasts crushed against his torso.
"This," she murmured, lifting her head to look at him with bright eyes, "is our new life."
Mario, exhausted and with his body trembling from pleasure, knew his life had changed forever. The fear returned, but it was a shared fear, a secret that now bound them more than any vow.
The main door of the suite vibrated with a sharp knock. A persistent tapping. Claudia and Mario froze. The hotel should be silent at this hour. "Room service?" a loud, professional voice asked in French. But the accent was Anglo-Saxon. Color drained from Claudia's face. Mario took her hand and squeezed hard. Someone had found them.