“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her. “I could watch you like this forever.”
She looks back down at me, her eyes dark with want, and the smile that curves her lips is devastating.
“Then watch,” she whispers, and starts to move faster, riding me harder.
I grip her hips and match her rhythm, thrust for thrust, watching the pleasure build on her face, feeling her tighten around me with every roll of her hips. She’s magnificent like this, completely uninhibited, her breasts bouncing with every movement, her thighs flexing against my sides as she takes what she wants. The sounds she’s making are driving me insane, these breathy little moans that get louder every time she grinds down and takes me deep.
I slide my hands up her body, palming her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers, and she gasps and arches into the touch. Her hands cover mine, pressing them harder against her chest, showing me exactly how she wants to be touched.
“Like that,” she breathes, her hips never stopping their relentless rhythm. “God, Dominic, just like that.”
I sit up suddenly, wrapping one arm around her lower back, pulling her flush against me so we’re chest to chest, her tits pressed against my pecs, her face inches from mine. The angle changes and we both groan at the difference, my cock hitting deeper, her clit grinding against my pelvis with every movement.
“Fuck, Brooke,” I groan, my fingers digging into her hips. “You feel so good. You’re going to make me come.”
“Good,” she breathes against my mouth, grinding down harder, clenching around me deliberately, her walls squeezing my cock. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
My cock throbs inside her at the words. I thrust up into her, hard, and she cries out, her nails raking down my back. I do it again, and again, fucking up into her while she rides me, our bodies slick with sweat, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.
“You want me to fill you up?” I growl against her throat, biting down on the sensitive skin below her ear. “Want to feel my cum dripping out of you?”
“Yes,” she gasps, her head falling back, her rhythm going ragged and desperate. “God, yes, Dominic, please.”
I can feel her walls starting to flutter around me, feel the telltale tightening that means she’s close. I slide one hand between us and find her clit, pressing firm circles against it while I keep thrusting up into her, and she keens, her whole body trembling in my arms.
“Come with me,” I manage, my own orgasm building at the base of my spine, my balls tightening. “Brooke, I need you to come with me.”
“I’m close,” she whimpers, grinding down onto my cock, onto my fingers, chasing it. “I’m so close, don’t stop, please don’t stop?—“
I press harder on her clit and thrust up deep, burying myself to the hilt, and she shatters above me with a cry that echoes off the walls. Her pussy clenching around me in rhythmic waves, squeezing my cock so tight I can barely breathe.
The feeling of her coming around me is too much. I bury myself deep and let go, groaning her name as I spill inside her, my cock pulsing, filling her with everything I have. My hips jerk up to meet hers, grinding deep, and she moans at the feeling of me coming inside her, her walls still fluttering around me, drawing out every last drop.
She collapses onto my chest, both of us breathing hard, her heart pounding against mine. I wrap my arms around her and hold her there, one hand stroking up and down her spine, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. And I think, this is what I’ve been missing my whole life. This is what I didn’t know I was looking for.
CHAPTER 26
Brooke
His mouth traces a slow path down the side of my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access while my fingers curl into the sheets beneath me. We’ve been at this for hours, and my body has that loose, liquid feeling that comes from being thoroughly taken care of by someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.
“You’re going to kill me,” I tell him, and my voice comes out hoarse, wrecked from all the sounds he’s pulled out of me tonight. “I have a flight in four hours and I’m not going to be able to walk through the airport.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” he murmurs against my collarbone, and I can feel the curve of his mouth, the smile he’s pressing into my skin. “I’m just being thorough.”
“Thorough is one word for it,” I say, my fingers trailing lazily through his hair. “Three times thorough. Possibly four. I’ve lost count.”
“Four,” he confirms, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “But who’s counting.”
I laugh, the sound coming out breathless and spent, and he pulls me closer, tucking me against his side so my head rests on his chest and my leg drapes over his. His arm wraps around my shoulders, and I press my palm flat against his stomach just to feel him breathing.
The Mexico City skyline glitters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, millions of lights scattered across the valley like fallen stars. I can see the faint pink glow on the horizon that means dawn is coming. My flight is coming and this night is almost over. But right now, in this small pocket of time, I let myself exist only here. Only with him. His heartbeat thumps steady against me, and I match my breathing to his, trying to memorize the rhythm.
His lips press against the top of my head, lingering there, and his arm tightens around me like he’s afraid I might slip away if he loosens his grip even slightly. The silence stretches between us, comfortable but heavy with everything we haven’t said yet. I can feel the words building in my chest, all the things I need to tell him, all the questions I need to ask. But I don’t want to break the spell. I don’t want to face reality yet.
So I don’t. Not right away. I let myself have this, the warmth of his body against mine and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Minutes pass, maybe an hour, and neither of us moves to fill the quiet.
But eventually the pink on the horizon deepens to gold, and I know we’re running out of time.
