Talenor R-18

Tala's lips devoured Cinty's, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth with wet, hungry strokes.

"Fuck, you taste so good,"

He growled against her lips, his voice thick with lust. His hands worked frantically at his belt while he kept kissing her, teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

"I can't stop," he panted between kisses, his breath hot against her face.

"I need to be inside you right now."

The buckle clanged as he yanked it open, the zipper ripping down in one motion. "Tell me you want this too."

Tala lifted her legs, his cock sliding between her thighs. "Your pussy feels so hot," he groaned, rubbing the swollen head along her slit. "I want to hear you moan while I fuck you."

He pushed the tip inside her with one forceful thrust, burying himself deep.

Cinty's gasp tore from her throat, her body stretched wide around Tala's thick cock as he drove deeper.

"Oh fuck—" she choked out, her voice breaking as her walls clenched and fluttered. "You're splitting me open..".

Cinty's head fell back against the mirror her breath coming in short pants.

"It's too much... you're stretching me so wide," she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "I can feel you rearranging my insides with every thrust."

Tala's mouth crashed back onto hers, tongue thrusting deep as he fucked her harder.

It was already eleven at night when Tala made his way home.

The dizziness that had clouded his head earlier had mostly faded, though he still felt unsteady behind the wheel. He pulled over and helped Cinty into a waiting taxi, making sure she was settled before handing the driver enough money for the fare.

“Take her home safely,” he muttered.

After watching the taxi disappear into the night, Tala stood there for a moment, rubbing his temples.

His head was clearer now, but his balance still wasn't quite right.

He drew a slow breath before finally turning toward his car.

The night had sobered him more than the alcohol ever could.

Tala entered his room and switched on the soft-shaded lamp beside his bed. The warm light barely reached the corners of the room. He sat at the edge of his bed, the cigar burning slowly between his fingers as the memory returned to him. He closed his eyes, but that only made it worse.

He remembered her perfume, her voice, fragments of the night came flashes—her hesitation, her cries, and the feeling that he had lost control of himself.

Tala slowly opened his eyes.

The smoke curled toward the ceiling as he stared into nothing.

“Venisa…”

He whispered her name, the weight of the memory settling heavily over him.

It was ten in the morning when the butler approached Tala and handed him a neatly sealed letter.

Tala glanced at the envelope, turning it over in his hand before breaking the seal. His eyes moved across the elegant words written inside.

A birthday invitation.

He stared at it for a moment before letting out a short laugh.

“A letter?” he said, shaking his head. “They could have just texted me.”

The butler remained perfectly composed, standing quietly before him.

Tala looked at the invitation again, amused by the unnecessary formality of it all. Still, something about the name written on the invitation caught his attention, and his smile slowly faded.

“Well,” he murmured, folding the letter carefully. “I suppose they wanted to make sure I couldn't pretend I never received it.”

Rafael Montenorie.

The patriarch of the Montenorie family was celebrating another birthday.

“So the old man is getting older,” he murmured, folding the invitation between his fingers.

Tala glanced at the invitation again.

“A birthday party for the patriarch himself…” he said under his breath. “No wonder they bothered with an actual letter.”

He leaned back in his chair, turning the envelope thoughtfully in his hand.

“What a trouble,” Tala murmured, rubbing his temple.

His eyes drifted back to the invitation, but his thoughts had already wandered elsewhere.

Venisa.

He wondered if she had received one as well. Knowing the Montenorie family, they would hardly overlook her—not with the connections between their families.

A faint, knowing smile tugged at his lips.

“If she did…” he muttered.

He could already imagine her expression upon reading the invitation: that calm, unimpressed face, followed by the inevitable sigh of annoyance.

“No wonder that sly woman could attend a party,” Tala said under his breath, almost amused. “She hates parties more than she hates being told what to do.”

He leaned back in his chair, tapping the invitation lightly against his palm.

Perhaps, for once, the birthday celebration might actually be interesting.

Especially if Venisa was there.

Tala dressed carefully in his tuxedo, fastening each button with practiced ease before straightening his collar and checking his reflection one last time. Once satisfied, he left the house and drove toward Venisa's estate.

When he arrived, he found her in front of the mirror, putting the final touches to her appearance.

Venisa stood with composed elegance, adjusting one of her earrings as she studied her reflection. Her gown fell perfectly around her, every detail carefully chosen without appearing as though she had tried too hard.

Tala leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching her.

“Are you done?” he asked.

Venisa glanced at him through the mirror.

“Almost.”

Tala stepped closer and reached into his coat pocket. He produced a small perfume bottle, holding it out toward her.

“For you.”

Venisa turned slightly, her eyebrows lifting.

“Perfume?”

She looked at the bottle skeptically before taking it from his hand.

Tala gave her a faint, teasing smile. “You can't walk into the Montenorie birthday celebration smelling like you've spent the entire morning arguing with your servants.”

Venisa gave him a cold look.

Tala immediately raised both hands in surrender.

“Fine. I was only teasing.”

He glanced at the perfume bottle in her hand before his expression softened.

“I actually saw it in a boutique a few days ago,” he explained. “It caught my attention, and I thought you might like it. That's all.”

Venisa studied the bottle for a moment.

“You bought this just because you saw it?”

“I did.”

“How thoughtful.”

There was a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

Tala ignored it, watching as she applied another small touch of perfume to her wrist.

What he didn't know was that he had encountered the same fragrance before.

The scent had lingered in the private club that night—sweet, delicate, almost intoxicating. It had clung to the air around the women there, becoming strangely familiar even after he had left.

He had never thought much of it then.

But now, standing in Venisa's room, Tala caught the same scent again.

His smile disappeared for the briefest moment.

He stared at her.

Venisa noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He quickly looked away, hiding the sudden uneasiness behind a casual expression.

He hadn't realized the perfume he had chosen for her was the very same fragrance he remembered from that night.

And somehow, he found that coincidence more unsettling than it should have been.

“So, how do I look?” Venisa asked, turning slightly before the mirror.

Tala looked at her for a moment, his teasing expression softening into genuine admiration.

“A beautiful twenty-five-year-old lady,” he replied.

His gaze traveled over her gown.

She wore a deep sapphire-blue gown that flowed gracefully from her waist to the floor. The bodice was fitted without being overly revealing, shaped elegantly to her figure, while delicate embroidery traced the neckline and continued down the waist like thin vines catching the light.

The sleeves were made of sheer, translucent fabric, falling softly to her wrists, where tiny silver threads were woven into the material. The skirt opened into several layers of soft fabric, creating a subtle, graceful train behind her whenever she moved.

Against the rich blue of the gown, her skin seemed brighter, while the understated jewelry at her ears and neck added just enough shimmer without overwhelming the dress.

Tala gave a small nod.

“Beautiful,” he repeated. “Although knowing you, you'll probably spend the entire evening looking as though you'd rather be anywhere else.”

Venisa lifted an eyebrow.

“I might.”

“I knew it.”

She turned toward him, holding back a smile.

“Then you should be grateful I came at all.”

“Oh, I am,” Tala replied.

He offered his arm.

“Come on, Lady Venisa. Let's go pretend we enjoy parties.”