“You’re soaked,” he says, lifting my thighs, pressing my knees up, looking at me, at all of me. “You’re fucking dripping.”
I gasp when he touches his cock to me. When he smears himself over my sex.
“Sergio.” Condom. We need a condom.
“Shh. I just want to feel you, be inside you. Just for one second.” He slides into me unprotected and I suck in a breath and he stills and closes his eyes, and he lets out a long, deep moan and for a moment, I just watch his face and hold him inside me and it’s not just about sex. Not just about coming. Not right now.
“We can’t…condom,” I force myself to say, even though all I want right now is him like this, warm inside me, and close, so fucking close.
He pulls out, leans down to kiss me, laying his weight on me for a moment before drawing away, keeping hold of my legs, keeping me spread for a moment longer before flipping me over and that intimacy, it’s gone. It’s sex now. It’s about coming now.
“Up, Natalie. Elbows and knees.”
I obey. Fuck, I want him. I want him to look at me. Want him to touch me. To lick me. To be inside me.
“Good girl,” he says. “Now put your face down on the bed. “I want to see all of you.” He takes my clit between two fingers when he gives the order and all I can do is moan and bury my face in the sheets. I feel his hands on me then, on my ass, spreading me wider, and then his mouth is on me again, closed over my pussy, licking and dipping inside me before sliding up toward my asshole.
I gasp. Tense up.
“Relax,” he growls. His hand is on the back of my head keeping me down. “I want all of you, Natalie. Everything.” I find myself arching my back then as he licks my ass, circling his tongue there, before dipping back to my pussy, devouring me, making me whimper as I come again. Come for a second time with his mouth on me.
I collapse on the bed when he flips me back over, climbing between my legs. He lays his full weight on me and kisses me.
“I like your pussy,” he says against my ear. “And I like your ass. And I love watching you come. And hearing you come. It’s the best fucking thing in the world.”
I close my eyes, holding him to me, pushing his face into my neck so he doesn’t see me. I’m embarrassed. I’ve never had anyone do what he just did to me. I’ve never come as hard as I do with him.
He draws back and pushes my legs wide again, and all I can think is I want him inside me again. I want to feel his heat, his hardness, his want. And when he slides into me, stretching me, it’s exactly right, so fucking right. He lets out a groan and closes his eyes for a moment, an instant, seating himself deep inside me, opening his eyes again to lock gazes with me before he slides out of me.
He straightens, reaches into the pocket of his discarded pants and takes out his wallet. From inside, he retrieves a condom, unwraps it, sheaths his thick cock, then enters me. I close my eyes and arch my back as he stretches me.
I’ve never fucked with the lights on before. I’ve never fucked like this, faces inches apart, eyes wide open, the room filled with the sounds of our fucking, with the smell of it. Sergio’s elbows close around my arms and he holds my face and he kisses me, just barely taking my lip between his before releasing it, neither of us blinking, not once. Our breathing is shallow, just gulps of air.
He makes a sound, something from deep in his chest, it’s raw and base and I feel him thicken even more and I’m going to come. I’m going to come again and when he thrusts one final time, watching me, letting me watch him, I do. As he throbs inside me and I feel him come, I come too and everything about this moment feels so right. So fucking perfect.
And it scares the fucking shit out of me.
I close my eyes and feel, lose myself in sensation, in ecstasy. And when it’s done, I’m spent. Empty and weightless. I blink my eyes open to find Sergio’s still on me. His expression is strange, unreadable and I don’t realize I’m crying until he touches his thumb to my face, wipes away a tear, smears it across my cheek.
He did that the first night too. At the warehouse. It’s like he’s mesmerized by my tears.
It’s quiet, absolutely still, and he’s still between my legs, still inside me. Still looking at me.
“Did I hurt you?”
I give my head a shake. It’s all I can manage because right now, I can’t speak. Can’t form words.
But it’s not that. He didn’t hurt me. It was perfect. Right.
And too much.
He gets up, walks into the bathroom. I hear the water go on a few minutes later and he comes back wiping his hands on a towel. I draw the blanket over myself and sit up as he gets dressed. He looks at me all the while.
“You can stay. It’s late.”
He shakes his head and I can see from his expression he has something on his mind. “Why were you crying?” he asks, putting on his shoes before coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
“It’s just a lot.” I shake it off. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even think I can, not until I figure out what the hell is going on inside my head.
