“Let’s get clean and then you’re going to fuck me so hard I’ll still be coming next week.”
He just growls and drags me into the shower. We wash each other, not taking turns just working round each other. I palm his cock, stroking him to full hardness and enjoying watching his eyes darken. He pulls out of my hand, grumbling about coming too soon, and turns me round. I put my hands on the tiles.
“Spread ’em for me, cutie,” he growls against my neck, nudging my legs apart. He presses himself close and I can feel his dick hard against my butt cheek. With one hand he starts stroking my dick, the other he traces down my crease, probing for my hole. He doesn’t even tease me, he just plunges his finger in, and I gasp. It burns and I’m here for it. I want to feel everything.
“More,” I moan as he twists his finger and drags it across my bundle of nerves. He gives me more, adding another finger and fucking me with his fingers, harder and faster. His other hand still works my dick, and I thrust forward into his hand and back onto his fingers buried in my ass. Both feel so good and I lose track of time. I’m just a panting mess of incoherence. I feel the tingle in my core and awareness creeps in that I’m going to come. I’m desperate to, wanting to feel the blessed release, but I want his dick more.
“No,” I cry, wanting to stop but my body won’t let me. “I want to have you in me.”
“You will, cutie, you will. But come for me first.” Andrés’ voice, warm and liquid like molten chocolate, is enough, and I sink into the sound, trusting him and letting my orgasm wash over me. I close my eyes and rest my face against the cool tiles, letting them hold me up. I whine as he pulls his fingers out of me, hating the emptiness. He gently rinses me off and turns off the water. I follow him out of the shower, the strength in my legs returning as he wraps a large towel round me.
I dry myself off as he does the same and we move to the bedroom. He pulls me close, running his hands over my body, bending his head to kiss my shoulder. His cock, still hard, swings against mine, which begins to swell again.
“Now, I think you begged for my dick. Is that what you want?” he whispers against my neck, his breath sending shivers across my skin.
“Yes, please,” I croak, my breath hitching as his hands roam across my arse.
“Good boy.” Fuck! There it is. My knees nearly buckle and my cock stiffens. Seeing my reaction, he chuckles huskily against my skin, which does nothing to help. “Get on the bed, on your knees. Hold on to the headboard.”
I obey so fast, this promises to be good. He kneels behind me and I hear the tearing of a condom packet and the click of the lube cap. Then I feel his hands on my arse cheeks, kneading them and spreading them. He licks me from taint to the top of my crack.
“Fuck, you have the sweetest tasting arse,” he murmurs, and I preen a little, giving it a wiggle and arching my back, flashing him more of it. He gives a moan, so I guess he’s getting a good view. He grabs one of my hips and I feel his dick at my hole as he lines up. He slowly pushes in and I enjoy the stretch as he opens me up further.
“That’s good, fill me up,” I moan, and he smooths a hand down my back and does exactly as I ask. Once he’s fully seated he holds my other hip. He moves slowly at first, then builds up speed. He pulls almost all the way out and then plunges in hard, and I brace my arms against the headboard, taking every long inch ofhim, loving being filled over and over. He’s nailing my prostate so well, I know I’m going to come again soon, but I don’t care. Nothing exists but our bodies moving together. His fingers dig into my flesh and I know they’ll leave marks, covering the ones from the first night, which have only just faded. I want more from him. I want him to mark me. I don’t ever want him to stop.
My orgasm builds, slowly this time, and I lean into the warmth that takes over, not resisting it. It’s a wave that swells and dips, and all the while Andrés is drilling into me, hard and relentless. The wave breaks and I come, moaning and calling his name, and still he fucks me. Using me, claiming me, possessing me. I cling on to the headboard, my only anchor to reality.
“Mark me,” I beg as I feel him jerk erratically, knowing he’s close to coming. If I can’t have him, I want something to remember him by. He grunts and fucks into me harder, and I nearly collapse. His arms catch me round my chest and he pulls me back towards him, his sweat-slick chest sliding against my back. He clamps his teeth onto the back of my shoulder at the base of my neck, and I groan, the delicious pain breaking over me. I feel him come and he shudders to a halt. I’m only vaguely aware of him laying me down, slipping out of my battered hole, and whispering “good boy” before sweet oblivion takes over.
“Unngh.” It’s about as much as I can manage to say as a hand gently shakes me.
“Hey, cutie.”
“Hey, what time is it?” I sit up quickly, worried I’ve missed work. I regret it immediately as dizziness overtakes me and I collapse back on the bed.
“It’s nine, you still have time,” Andrés says and relief floods through me. I think it might take me that hour just to be able to stand up. The smell of food—bacon—wafts towards me. My stomach is hollow; I’ve never felt so hungry.
“Is that breakfast?”
“It is, do you want to eat first or shower?”
It’s a good question and I take a few seconds to decide. My stomach growls, giving me the answer.
“I think I need to eat to have the energy to shower,” I say, sitting up slowly this time and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I feel drained. Even the table looks too far away. Eventually I make it upright and cross the room, sinking into one of the chairs. Andrés pours me a coffee and I start to assemble a bacon sandwich. Once I’ve taken a few bites and the magic works, I feel more human. That’s when I notice that Andrés is dressed in jeans and a white shirt, looking gorgeous but also disgustingly fresh. I look around at the room that was in disarray last night. It’s tidy and his cases are packed and standing by the door. How did I sleep through it?
“Don’t you need sleep?” I ask and wave my hand at him. “There you are all handsome and awake. It’s disgusting.”
“I did get some sleep, but I know when I’m on that plane, I’ll sleep for eight hours. I don’t have a ten hour or whatever shift to do like you.”
“Thank you. How long was I asleep for?” I ask, finishing up my breakfast.
“A couple of hours.”
It’s not enough, really, but I know when I get into the kitchen I’ll be able to keep going, and tonight, well, I can crash and sleep as there’ll be no Andrés. Now the time for him to leave has come, I can’t stand it. I rise and go to the bathroom. I need a shower, and the water will wash away the tears that are about to start running down my face. I don’t want him to see them. The water stings where he bit me and I lift my fingers up to touch it. I turn so I can see it in the mirror. He broke the skin and there’s a part of me that hopes it scars, leaving a permanent mark. I stay under the shower longer than needed, only switching the water off when I feel like I can breathe normally again.
When I come out into the room, Andrés is looking restless. I know the feeling when you’re ready to go but there’s a little time yet and you don’t know what to do with yourself. My clothes are on a chair and I dress quickly. There’s no need to prolong this. His coat is hanging over the back of the chair.
“This is yours,” I say, picking it up.
