CHAPTER 60: ISOBEL’S NEW TRICK (R-18)

We paused between kisses, breaths heavy as I leaned against the wall. "Your ’new trick’ must be something special. That’s like, the third time you’ve brought it up."

Isobel’s purple eyes sparkled with mischief as she massaged my exposed chest. "I’ve been working on it for a while. Ever since that night when you completely dominated me in bed." She jabbed me with a finger. "I have an image I’m trying to maintain, you know! I can’t just let you have your way with me too much. Sometimes, I’d prefer to have my way with you."

That same hand that’d been massaging my chest was joined by her other hand, both reaching out to grab the collar of the shirt that’d been draping my torso. She scrunched it and pulled me closer into another kiss. It was fierce, her mouth hot and demanding against mine, tongue slipping past my teeth to tangle with my own. She tasted like berries and honey, and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted, heat flooding south as I pulled her in by the waist. She broke the kiss just long enough to trail her lips down my jaw, nipping at the skin before latching onto my neck. Her teeth grazed just hard enough to send a shiver racing down my spine, and I felt my cock twitch in my pants, hardening against the rough fabric.

"Fuck," I muttered, my hands instinctively gripping her hips.

Isobel let out a weak, satisfied laugh as she slid a hand back down, finally unbuckling my belt with practiced ease. The leather whispered free as she popped the button on my pants and tugged the zipper down. Cool air hit my skin as she reached in, wrapping her fingers around my thickening shaft. I was already hard, but her firm, warm grip made me swell fully in her palm.

She stroked me slowly, her hands sliding from base to tip, thumb circling the sensitive head where a bead of precum had already gathered. Leaning in close, her breath hot against my ear, she began to whisper. "I’m going to make you ache for me, Lloyd May." She licked my neck, kissing beneath my jawline a few times before continuing. "I’m going to stroke your thick cock until you’re leaking precum all over my hand, and you’re going to let me. Then, I’ll decide if you deserve more. Who knows? I may have you watch me while I play with myself. Be a good boy, though, and I might just let you inside of me."

Her words were dominant, laced with that confidence I’d come to expect from her, each word vibrating through me like a spell. She pumped her hand again, twisting just right at the top, and I felt my resolve cracking.

I tried to push back, to flip the script like I had many times before. "You think I won’t fight back?" I growled, but it came out weaker than intended, my voice rough with the pleasure building in my core. Her strokes were relentless, slick now with my own arousal, and she nipped at my earlobe, her tongue flicking out to taste the salt of my skin.

"You can’t, Lloyd May," she murmured, her lips brushing my neck between kisses. "Look at you trying to sound all tough. I can feel how hard you’re getting. You love this. You love when I take control. You love hearing me tell you all about how I’m going to milk every drop from you. Now be a good boy and take it."

Her strokes were faster now. Too fast. The sensations were overwhelming: the heat of her palm, the friction building with each pass, the way her body molded against mine. A soft moan escaped my lips that I’d been trying to hold back. As much as I wanted to challenge and deny her, Isobel was right. I loved her touch, her voice, her dominance.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes locking onto mine, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "See? You’re already at your limit, moaning like that. Good boy." Her hand slowed, teasing now, barely grazing the underside of my cock where the veins throbbed with need. I bit my lip, trying to stifle another groan, but it slipped out anyway, low and needy.

Before I could finish, she dropped to her knees on the cool stone floor, her hands guiding me down to a nearby stool. I sat heavily, legs spreading on instinct as she knelt between them, her face level with my exposed cock. It stood rigid, flushed and aching, the tip glistening. She didn’t suck, not yet. Instead, she leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick a long, deliberate stripe from base to head, savoring the taste with a hum that vibrated against my skin. Her hand wrapped around the shaft again, stroking in tandem with her licks–wet, open-mouthed passes that left trails of saliva in the air.

"God, you taste so fucking good," Isobel purred, her voice venomous as she lapped at the slit, collecting that precum like it was nectar. "I could do this all day... make you throb and leak for me. Imagine how it’ll feel when I finally take you deep, your cock stretching my throat as I swallow you. Wouldn’t you like that?" Her words hit like sparks, igniting every nerve, and I moaned louder, my hips bucking involuntarily toward her mouth. The denial was torture. Licks that promised more, strokes that built the pressure without release. My balls tightened, the coil in my gut winding tighter with each flick of her tongue along the sensitive ridge.

I was close, too close. My breaths came in ragged gasps, hands fisting in her hair. "Ahh... I-Isobel... fuck. Please..." The plea slipped out, and she grinned up at me, wicked and knowing.

But then she stopped completely. Her hand stilled, tongue withdrawing, leaving me throbbing in the open air, denied and desperate. "Not yet," she said, rising fluidly to her feet. "I still have to show you my trick!"

I watched, dazed and aching, as she stepped back, her hands glowing with a soft, violet light. The air shimmered, reality folding like parchment, before, suddenly, a perfect clone of Isobel formed from the smoke. Black hair cascading down, purple eyes gleaming with the same hunger. Both girls undressed before me, smooth skin glistening, curves begging to be touched, nipples hardened in the hall’s cool draft.

"Up to this point, I’ve only used my clones for combat purposes. Turns out, they have far more utility."

The original Isobel, I’ll call her that to keep track, sank back to her knees, her mouth finally enveloping the head of my cock in a slow, deliberate suck. Her lips stretched around me, warm and wet, tongue swirling as she took me deeper inch by inch. The relief was exquisite, a velvet heat that made my toes curl, but it was the clone who captured my attention next. She moved to my side and captured my mouth in a kiss that mirrored the original’s intensity.

She broke the kiss, her forehead resting against mine, voice a sultry whisper. "Whatever you do to me, she feels it too. Every touch, every thrust. Everything."

My mind raced, the possibilities igniting like wildfire despite the haze of pleasure from Isobel’s slow bobs, her mouth working me with torturous precision, cheeks hollowing on the upstroke. I groaned into the clone’s mouth as she kissed me again, my hands finally moving to cup her breasts, thumbs circling those stiff peaks.

An idea sparked, dark and thrilling. "Absolutely everything, hmm?" I rasped, my voice thick with lust, already plotting how to turn this duplication to our mutual ruin.

"Absolutely everything," The clone confirmed, voice thick with the same yearning of my own.

"I see. Then let’s put that to the test."