His forehead drops to mine. Our breath mixing. I taste cinnamon on his exhale. His hands grip my waist harder, thumbs pressing into the bruises he left before.
"I stood outside your door last night. My hand on the doorknob. My cock so hard it hurt."
I close my eyes, imagining him on the other side, touching himself.
"I know," I whisper. "I was touching myself too. Thinking about you. Hating you, though, because you were an asshole"
He groans, and I feel his cock twitch against my stomach through his pants.
"I should have opened it. Should have fucked you properly instead of making us both suffer."
"You're here now. Show me what you wanted to do last night."
I pull the dress over my head. I'm completely naked now, my nipples hard, my pussy dripping. He looks at me like he wants to devour every inch.
"Fuck, Marisol. You're perfect. Every bruise, every scrape. Mine."
I reach for his shirt, practically tearing it off him. My nails rake down his chest, leaving red marks over his scars and ink. His cock strains against his pants, the outline making my mouth water.
His hands are actually shaking as he touches me. This man who hours ago ended Cesar without flinching is trembling as his hands cup my breasts.
"You're nervous," I observe, pinching his nipple hard enough to make him hiss.
"I'm fucking terrified," he admits. "Terrified I'll hurt you. Terrified I won't be enough."
I reach down, gripping his cock through his pants. He's rock hard, and I can feel him pulse in my hand.
"You could never hurt me in ways I don't want. And you're more than enough. Now stop thinking and fuck me like you mean it."
He snaps.
His mouth crashes into mine, all tongue and teeth and desperation. I taste violence and need as he walks me backward to the bed, his hands everywhere. Squeezing my ass, pinching my nipples, sliding between my legs to find me soaked.
He pushes me onto the bed, and I bounce slightly, spreading my legs wide so he can see everything. My pussy is dripping, clenching on nothing, desperate to be filled.
"Look at you," he growls, finally freeing his cock. It springs out, thick and hard, precum already beading at the tip. "Spread yourself for me. Show me that pretty pussy."
I reach down, using both hands to spread my pussy lips, exposing my swollen clit and dripping entrance. "This is yours, Nico. All yours."
He drops to his knees, gripping my thighs hard enough to leave marks. His mouth is on me instantly, no teasing, just his tongue fucking into me while his nose presses against my clit. I cry out, my back arching off the bed.
"Fuck, Nico! Your mouth!"
He pulls back just enough to speak against my pussy. "I missed this taste. Missed how you flood my mouth when you come."
He slides three fingers inside me, curling them to hit that spot while his tongue attacks my clit. The dual sensation has me calling out for God, my hands fisting in his hair, grinding against his face.
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my eyes open, looking down at him between my thighs. His eyes are black with lust, watching me fall apart. The eye contact while he devours me is almost too intense.
"I'm going to come," I gasp. "Nico, I'm…"
"Come on my tongue. Let me taste it."
My orgasm crashes through me, my pussy clenching around his fingers as I scream his name. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, just keeps eating me through it until I'm sobbing from overstimulation.
He crawls up my body, his cock dragging against my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of precum. When he kisses me, I taste myself. Tangy and desperate.
