Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 696: Madeline: Who Bit You?

Eleanor’s gaze flickered between Madeline and me, her lips curling into a knowing smirk as she took in the electric tension crackling in the air.

Then, with a fluid, deliberate motion, she leaned toward Madeline, her breasts brushing against her arm as she whispered something into her ear. Madeline’s face flushed instantly, her eyes widening before she turned away, her voice flustered and defensive.

”Hmph... only you could think of it...” Madeline muttered, her cheeks burning, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. ”You nasty woman...”

Eleanor let out a low, throaty chuckle, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she pulled back. ”Ok... I should be getting going...” she said, her voice sweet but laced with mischief.

She waved at me, her fingers lingering in the air before she blew me a kiss, her lips puckered in an exaggerated, taunting gesture.

Madeline’s body tensed, her eyes narrowing as she watched Eleanor’s every movement, her jaw clenching so hard I could see the muscle twitching.

Carter followed Eleanor out, her sexy, poised stride making the doorframe seem smaller as she passed through it. And then—the door clicked shut, leaving Madeline and me alone.

But not before I caught myself staring at Eleanor’s swaying ass, the tight fabric of her dress clinging to her curves as she walked away. It was instantaneous, unintentional—but Madeline noticed.

The moment the door closed, the air in the room shifted. The tension that had been simmering between Madeline and me boiled over, thick and suffocating.

She didn’t move at first—just stared at me, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a mix of rage, hurt, and something darker. Something hungrier.

”What...” she demanded again, her voice trembling with a dangerous edge. ”Do you like that bitch?”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. ”No... Ma’am... I was just—”

She didn’t let me finish. Instead, she pushed herself off the bed, her movements slow, deliberate, predatory.

The fabric of her dress clung to her curves as she sauntered closer, her hips swaying with a feline grace that made my cock throb painfully in my pants. She stopped just inches away from me, her perfume—something rich and floral—wrapping around me like a noose.

”You’re hard,” she said, her voice dropping to a growl, her gaze raking down my body before locking onto my crotch. The bulge in my pants was impossible to hide, and she smirked, her lips curling with a dark satisfaction.

”Were you imagining her?” Her fingers trailed down my chest, her nails scraping lightly against the fabric of my shirt. ”Tell me...” she hissed, her breath hot against my neck as she leaned in. ”Aren’t you satisfied to have me?”

I shuddered, my body betraying me as my cock twitched at her touch. ”Ma’am... I wasn’t—”

”Liar,” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement and something sharper. She stepped back, her eyes never leaving mine as she slowly, deliberately began to unbutton her dress.

The fabric parted, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of her collarbone, then her shoulders, then the swell of her breasts, encased in a black lace bra that did nothing to hide her hard nipples.

She let the dress slip down her arms, the material pooling at her waist before she shimmied her hips, letting it fall to the floor in a silken heap.

She stood there, naked except for her bra and panties, her body a masterpiece of curves and power. Her breasts were full, heavy, the lace barely containing them, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her waist dipped in, her hips flaring out, and her thighs—smooth, toned—pressed together as she turned slightly, giving me a full view of her perfect, round ass.

”You like what you see?” she taunted, her voice a purr, her fingers tracing the edge of her bra before sliding down to her panties. She hooked a finger beneath the lace, pulling it taut against her pussy, the fabric glistening with her arousal.

”Or do you prefer Eleanor’s tits?” She laughed, the sound dark and knowing, as she stepped closer again, her body pressing against mine.

I couldn’t speak. My mouth was dry, my mind a haze of need and shame.

She reached down, her fingers deftly unbuckling my belt, the sound of the leather sliding free loud in the silence. Then, with a sharp tug, she yanked my pants down, my cock springing free, hard and leaking, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Madeline let out a low, approving hum, her eyes darkening as she took in my length. ”Mmm...” she murmured, her fingers wrapping around my cock, her thumb swiping over the tip, smearing the pre-cum across my skin.

”Still hard for me...” she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction. But then her expression shifted, her nose wrinkling slightly as she leaned in, her breath hot against my cock.

She sniffed—deep, deliberate—her lips brushing against my cock, her breath hot against my skin. The scent of her perfume—rich, intoxicating—mixed with the musky aroma of my arousal, but beneath it all, she picked up on something else. Something faint, but unmistakable.

Then she pulled back, her eyes narrowing as she studied my cock, her fingernail tapping against the sensitive skin. ”Hm...” she mused, her voice laced with amusement and something darker.

”Still smells of pee...” The light sting of her nail made me hiss, my cock twitching despite the humiliation burning in my chest.

But then—her gaze shifted.

Her fingers traced lower, her touch feather-light as she explored my inner thighs, her eyes following the path of her hand. And then she froze.

Her fingers stilled over a dark, bruised mark—Marina’s hickey, the imprint of her teeth still visible, the skin tender from the earlier bite. Madeline’s breath hitched, her body tensing as she realized what it was.

”What... is this?” Her voice was a growl, low and dangerous, her fingers pressing harder into the mark, the pain sharp but nothing compared to the fear coiling in my gut.

She gripped my balls suddenly, her fingers digging in, her grip punishing as she yanked me closer, her eyes burning into mine.

”Tell me...” she demanded, her voice trembling with rage. ”Who. Bit. You?”