Her lashes flutter, and she looks at me, eyes dark, needy.
I pull out almost completely, letting her feel the loss, then thrust back into her with a firm, deep stroke, filling her with all of me, stretching her wide. She moans, her heels digging into my lower back, anchoring herself. I drop my head to her neck, planting a kiss there, then a nip of my teeth—just hard enough to make her jolt.
I want to leave a permanent mark right there. The one I placed on her chest is already gone. But I won’t. Not when she’s about to walk out of here and go on a date that she thinks she needs.
For now.
But I’m still going to leave her with something tonight. Because the mark I leave on her in a few seconds, won’t be the kind that people can see.
No.
Tonight, I’m leaving marks inside her.
I can feel my balls tighten, my spine tingle with the first signs of my approaching orgasm. And finally, I tell her what to expect next.
“I’m not letting you come,” I say against her throat.
Her body jerks. “What?” she gasps, brown eyes wide and desperate.
I smile. It’s a sinister smile. Not one that I would normally use. But Alessia seems to bring this side out of me. The one who feels possessive, jealous and wildly horny for only her.
“You want a fluffer for your date? Well, that guy’s not me.”
Her breathing stutters.
“You wanna go on your date, ditch the guy at the end of it, and come back here tome?”
I rock into her, rolling my hips, deep and slow, pulling a wrecked little moan from her hoarse throat.
“Then I’ll make it worth your night.”
“Gabriel,” she whines, breathless, her body taut beneath mine as I drive into her one last time, my balls tightening, spine locking up.
“That’s right. I’m the one touching you. I’m the one fucking you. I’m the man who made you come four times the other night.”
I grip her hips, pinning her in place, making sure she feels every inch of me as I pulse inside her. “You wanna take him back to your house? Fine. See if he can make your body light up like I can. See if he knows exactly how you need to be touched.”
I lean down, dragging my lips over the shell of her ear, my voice dropping lower.
“But he’s not coming back here. Ever. And he’s never going to be me.”
And then I let go. I bury myself inside her tight pussy and come. Filling her, groaning as her tight, hot walls grip me like they never want to let go.
She doesn’t come, though I know I could get her to with just a few more swipes of my thumb against her swollen, soaked clit, but I won’t let her. Not yet. Her body welcomes me anyway, squeezing every last drop from me, holding onto it, keeping me inside her even when I finally slow my thrusts into soft, gentlepulses.
I give a few more thrusts, just to feel the slickness of her with my come dripping out, to let myself linger in the heat of her before I finally pull out.
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s nothing but anger, frustration, and something darker, something needier, behind her gaze. She looks pissed but she looks turned on to. She likes it and hates it at the same time.
I smile down at her, brush some of her damp, soft brown hair from her cheek, then lower my face and kiss her pretty, drenched pussy lips.
“Gabriel,” her voice is strained.
I press another kiss against her swollen, dripping cunt, lapping up the evidence of what I just did to her, what I just left in her. Then I stuff the rest of my come back inside of her with two fingers, slide her red thong back in place, tucking it tight, knowing damn well it won’t do shit to hold me in and she’s going to make a mess of it as soon as she stands.
Her pussy will be weeping for me all night. Every time she laughs at one of his lame jokes. Every time she shifts in her seat. She’s going to feel me between her thighs and the mark I left behind.
Her breathing is rougher now. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this,” she whispers.
