by Sienna Mynx
“Yes.” She answered though the words barely escaped. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing?”
Diego nuzzled his nose in her ear, his breath feathering her cheek.
“I want you, now, please.” She said in the sexiest voice she could summon. Enough of his games, she needed more. His hand travelled down from her breasts over her abdomen. “Spread your feet.” He told her as his hand travelled lower. She did and he had full access to her. He palmed her pussy, his middle finger rubbing at her covered slit.
“I am going to lick this pussy dry,” he groaned.
She attempted to turn her head to look at him over her shoulder but he inserted two fingers into her channel almost causing her to lose balance. Then he removed his fingers just as swiftly and her knees buckled. She whirled on him. Marcella grabbed his face and demanded a kiss, locking her lips with his. He didn’t resist. Their lips met and the shockwaves went all the way to her toes. His pillow soft lips parted, her tongue darted in, tasting, then delving in a swoop over his, drawing it forth. The kiss was so good she heard herself humming. Diego gripped her by both halves of her butt cheeks and crushed her into his pelvis so she could feel the might of his erection. And he claimed her mouth as his. Her eyes rolled over the masterful way his tongue moved against her own, sweeping the roof of her mouth and exploring. He tasted as she imagined, spicy.
Marcella wasn’t big on kissing but she wanted to curl up and die in his arms, with this kiss taking her under. She felt weightless as her feet left the ground. He had scooped her up into his arms, and carried her toward the bed. She held on to him not wanting to release.
The bed greeted her, the sheets pushed away. Diego plied his mouth from hers to separate. Marcella panted, thirsty, so very thirsty for more of him. She’d never felt such strong currents of hunger for a man before. It literally gave her the shakes. She watched him closely fearing he’d go for more games and leave. Diego undid his cuffs, and then removed a pocket watch that he dropped on the side nightstand. Her gaze leveled on the watch then swung back up to him as he shed his suit jacket and vest. And she waited. He undid the buttons to his shirt next—slowly opening it for her. Her eyes devoured his firm muscled chest. A sprinkle of dark wavy hair thinned over a taut six-pack and arrowed down to his groin. His trousers did nothing to hide the strength of his arousal. His cock bulged against the front.
“I want you inside of me.”
Good lord had that come out of her mouth? It just did, and in a voice she didn’t recognize. Her focus narrowed down to his hand as it undid his zipper, and then flipped up to his hooded stare and she realized she had indeed. She had actually asked the man for sex. The kind that would rock her world and break down every mental chain for restraint she’d used the past months. After all she could indulge in sex. It didn’t have to mean love.
Diego dropped his pants and his underwear. Marcella scooted further back into the pillows. He pressed a knee into the bed and his cock swayed under a mass of thick curled pubic hair. She lowered back into her pillows like a good girl, as his hands went on either side of her and pinned her down. “Say it again.”
She stared up at him and smiled. “I want you inside of me.”
“I intend to be—and soon. You must be patient Marcella, trust me I desire you. But I need to have you completely, do you understand. No more questioning what is destined to happen in this bed between you and I. It is time for acceptance.”
She blinked up at him that she understood.
A secretive sly smile curled along his lips. “Am I too forward?”
“Um, no, it’s refreshing. Having a person, um, man, speak his mind the way you do. I like it.”
He flicked the tip of his tongue at her lips, and then bit her chin. She winced, clenching her fist. He came down on her; his chest hair abraded her nipples while his tongue did devilish things inside of her mouth. She writhed against the storm of sensations. The heat and length of his cock pressed against her thigh, she parted her legs wanting him to honor her request. She needed no further foreplay; she just wanted the longing to end. Then the thought of a condom flared to the front of her mind and she stiffened. Turning her mouth from the kiss she panted and captured enough breath to speak. “Condom.”
It wasn’t going down without one.
Diego turned her chin so she could look him in the eye. “I won’t hurt you, I have it under control.” He fastened his lips on hers, his tongue increasingly insistent, tangling with hers as his hands slipped to the band of her panty and began to tug them down her hips. He moved away, breaking the kiss. She lifted beneath him, her ass rising from the sheet so he could draw the panty further down. Moving past her garter stocking covered legs, the kind of stockings with the lace band at the top of her thighs that didn’t require a belt, he did away with the panty. Diego lifted one leg and removed her heeled pump. Then rolled the stocking down her thigh and off, it was torture. Marcella dug her nails into the sheets as he took his time and removed her other shoe and stocking, before returning to her. His lips came back to hers, insistent fingers slipping into the swollen folds of her core. She shuddered viciously as he probed, pushing his finger in and out of liquid heat, before inserting another. His thumb circled the burning nub of her clitoris and then stroked hard. She jerked and cried out against his mouth and darting tongue, flooding his hand with her essence.
She rolled her hips and felt the head of his penis rub at the lips of her sex seeking entrance. “Diego, condom!” she said, again turning her face away from the kiss, and pushing her hand to his chest. Sure she wanted it; she needed it at this point. But she would not do it unless she protected herself. She didn’t know him. Not really.
Diego grunted and said something in Spanish. Her heart sank. Was he the kind of man that would? Then she had him wrong. About to offer that they slow things down a bit, he reached over and moved to the side of the bed, grabbing his suit jacket.
So he was the kind of man that carried condoms in his jacket pocket? Did he know he was going to get some? Of course he did. The arrogant…
Marcella stop it. Just screw his brains out and send him out the door.
She covered her face and willed herself to relax.
“Look at me.”
She lowered her hands and looked at him. He smiled, and it drew her back in. “You do the honors.” He offered her the golden foil wrapper. Relief flooded her and she felt her doubts ease. Diego dropped on the bed and rolled to his back. Rising to her knees she ripped the foil packet open with her teeth and removed the sticky latex. With steady hands she rolled the ring down his shaft, his thickly veined penis filled it to the brim with several inches of him left uncovered. The feel of him so smooth, long, and strong in her hands made the heat build again. She never felt so aroused, so desired, so bold before in her life.
“Vení acá,” he said drawing her down to him. He kissed her forehead, then between her brow, then the point of her slender nose. He kissed one eye and it closed, then the other. He brushed his lips over her mouth. “Remember my promise to you?”
“That you will not hurt me. Yes.” She breathed.
“Then believe it. I want nothing from you, but to pleasure you. Let me show you.”
His hands went down her cheeks to her neck and then her shoulders as he kissed her chin. He slipped them to her hips and pulled her up. Her knees parted on either side of him. He slid down the bed so that she was up on her knees facing the headboard and he was beneath her sex. Marcella’s mouth stretched open to a silent frozen gasp as her hands fell flat to the headboard.
Then he grabbed her by the buttocks and situated her on his face. He thrust his tongue into her pussy. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her mouth closed. Every nerve ending in her body pooled down to that spot. His tongue eased out of her channel and did a flat swipe up her sex parting the lips of her vagina. She clenched her teeth hard and tried to stifle her sexual cry of enjoyment. But pleasure exploded between her thighs, making her vaginal walls tighten with
violent spasms. And he kept going. Hot breath fanned her clit, and he gave long lazy licks around her quivering bud. He paused, and then licked again. It went on and on. Lick, lick, lick, pause, and then his lips sealed her clitoris in between and he sucked hard. She choked down her cry of pleasure, dropping her head in defeat as her entire body from her hips down gave way to tremendous shakes.
Marcella slammed her hands against the headboard and rapture split her to the core as she shook through the best orgasm she’d had in a while. She tried to rise. The mounting pressure had her body damp with sweat. He held her firm. The wet slick noise of his licking, sucking, tongue fucking, added to her arousal. She ground down on his face with her ass rolling. It felt so good, so delicious. She blushed hard. His tongue, though buried deep, wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way. Marcella started to buck when he sucked her clit, and all her inner muscles of her stomach drew together and twisted into a knot. Her hold on her orgasm dissolved, and her clit remained trapped in the warmth of his mouth. The headboard rattled from her banging it into the wall while her moaning grew louder and louder. Rapture hit her like a lightning bolt, forcing her to toss her head back and cry out her pleasure to the ceiling like an opera singer.
Marcella went limp. He eased from beneath and dragged her down. She was too busy convulsing to notice. Prisms of light danced behind her closed lids, they were squeezed so tight. Then she gasped when he flipped her, his knees parting her thighs, his hands holding tight to her hips, angling her pelvis, and forcing her thighs wider. The head of his penis probed gently, testing her, and even the slight push sent spasms of wanton lust rippling through her pussy like the aftershocks of the kiss he gave her below.
Just as her eyes began to open and her heart began to stabilize he gave her one long thrust and lodged himself inside of her. She moaned as the fullness of him so swiftly, gave her so much pleasure it was almost painful. Marcella had never been so stretched and filled before. She could feel every generous inch of him. It gave her a wonderful shocking sensation. Her inner walls clenched and her hips lifted to press hard against his to make him stay joined with her longer. It was not to be. He began to move with the sure solid thrusts that forced her to take him deeper. Marcella sobbed and gasped, unable to grapple with the concurrent shots of ecstasy driven through her. She clung to him desperately through his hip strikes—tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.
He stopped. Her lids parted and she found his dark locks flat to his head and his sexy body covered in beads of perspiration. “Marcella? Are you okay?” he asked in a voice strained but tender, his whole body shaking with restraint to not fuck her harder.
“Yes, it feels so incredible,” she choked out, she blushed, embarrassed that she actually shed tears. “Don’t stop Diego, it feels good.”
“Hang on, it’s about to get better.”
That was the only warning she received. He ran his arm under and around her to anchor her hips in place. Then he withdrew nearly completely before slamming into her hard and strong. Marcella’s eyes widened. Diego began to move in an unstoppable rhythm and he fucked her hard and fast. A new orgasm gripped her, hurling her over the edge, then yanking her back, to hurl her over the edge again, then back again. Where would it end? She nearly cried out for release as he pumped harder, his silky chest hair distressing her sensitive nipples with the constant friction.
Marcella shattered with shouts of ecstasy as her body bucked and his tensed all over. He pumped her hard, before dissolving into bodily jerks as he emptied his lust and desire into the reservoir of the condom, collapsing on top of her.
Chapter Seven
Sleep.
The rain made it easy. A soft drumming, leaving fat droplets streaming down the windowpanes was such a soothing way to coast on the aftershocks of the best sex he’d had in years. Of course she was feistier than he usually liked. He wanted his women submissive, completely under his control in the bedroom. Marcella was one in the making. But it would take some conditioning. The kind of investment a man would make if she were to be his forever. Diego knew that this attraction between them couldn’t be pursued. It would do neither of them any good. Love was an illusion and he’d seen it destroy every man he ever cared about. He looked over at her. She was so petite curled up next to him, her presence tugged on emotions he refused to name. A delicate flower that he found it hard to stop thinking of. Turning over he studied her, lifting the sheet to look at her. She had small hands and feet, but slender shapely legs and arms. Marcella rested in such a peaceful sleep he almost didn’t want to disturb her. He moved her tangles out of the way to see her face clearly. His erection had already risen. What if he could never get enough of her? He shoved the disturbing thought aside. Of course he could, his ego and pride whispered back. Still he burned with indecision at the center of his chest.
Marcella had passed the first test. The way she rejected his sexual pass at her, had left him intrigued. He spent a week in boring meetings listening to Lance talk over business while they met with frightened storeowners that once spit upon his family name. Now they feared him, as they should.
He had no time for romance.
But he desired her still.
The bed shifted. Had he woken her? She lifted her face and smiled to the point of dimples forming in her cheeks. Diego fell over on his back. He gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him. Her fragrant poufy hair fell over into her face as she braced her hands on either side of his head then gave him another sweet smile that made the bastard in him want to behave.
Those full lips of hers, even white teeth, the lift of her high cheekbones, and that skin a bronzed deep shade of brown, was making him crazy with need. She sat up straddling him. Moist warmth covered his cock as she sat on it. He fumbled for the other condom packet, finding it as she moved on top of him, making him crazy. Allowing her to take command would be dangerous considering how badly he wanted to be fucked by her, so he flipped her over and sheathed his cock while holding her down, regaining domination over her. She hooked her leg around his waist without a word of complaint. His mouth covered hers, his tongue pushed in as he settled between her thighs. Gripping her buttocks he thrust into her, making her take all of him. She was so tight. So unbelievably tight considering he had just made love to her hours before. So tight, and so hot was her channel that he could feel the rapid beats of her heart in her pussy as it clenched around him.
Diego gritted his teeth, struggled to hold on to the last thin thread of restraint. He pumped his hips violently, hearing her gasping sobs once he forced her to the next orgasm within a frenzied rush. Then his control shattered, and his own climax gripped him by the throat throwing his body into seizures that left him a whimpering shivering mess on top of her.
Something was different this time. Marcella felt it. Diego wasn’t as open to her as he had been. He even fought against the tide of pleasure washing over them. She gripped his broad shoulders and rolled her hips hoping to draw him back in. He dropped on her and buried his face into her neck. Her breath stuttered out in ragged gasps. The aftermath of the earth-shattering climax swept through her blood like a brush fire.
Diego moved off her. He dropped over to his back with his arm going over his eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. Something felt wrong.
“Are you okay?”
“Hungry? I will fix something for you.”
“I can help.” Marcella said about to rise.
“No.” he answered. She frowned. He softened putting on his underwear. “Let me. I want to cook for you.” He walked away from the bed to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom, flushed, and left the room without a backward glance, as if he couldn’t get away from her soon enough. Marcella moved out of the wet spot and curled up under the sheet. Her body was wrecked. His lovemaking had turned her limbs to jelly. She didn’t have the energy to find out why he bristled when things were good between them. He had to loosen up. She yawned, the question repeating in her mind as she drifted down into a restful sleep.
“What is this? It’s not even eight o’clock yet?”
“You didn’t have much to choose from.” He gave her a shy smile. “Open.”
She smiled and accepted forkfuls of food until she was full. Then she lie back chewing, swallowing, feeling more at home with him than she could imagine.
“I must leave.”
“Now?”
“Can I use your shower?”
“Of course you can.”
Diego set the plate to the side nightstand. He seemed more relaxed now, less agitated than before. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, hesitated for a moment as if he would say more, then went to shower. Marcella sat up. She looked over to the plate of half eaten eggs, and then to the sheets tangled next to her. She rose and stripped her blankets from the mattress, and drew open the curtains and windows to let in the fresh, after the rain, air. Marcella started a new load of wash, and tried to brush her hair into a tamed ponytail to fix her appearance. She was glad she did. When the bathroom door opened he stepped out dressed. Hair slicked back, suit a bit rumpled and damp on his large frame.