CHAPTER 42
Sierra is so fucking beautiful; it honestly hurts to look at her. She kneels over me, stunned and speechless. Tonight, there’s no strappy lingerie, but she’s every bit as breathtaking wearing nothing but my shirt. Every time I turn around, she’s showing me in some new way how absolutely gone I am for her, and the fact that my dick is already leaking when she hasn’t even touched me yet, in an old shirt that’s not the slightest bit tight or sheer, is the latest confirmation.
She doesn’t respond, but I don’t mind. Her brow is furrowed, and her eyes have that same stormy intensity that she gets when she’s contemplating what to do next, whether she’s dominating the diamond or dominating me. I lean into the silence, and simply nod when she holds up the bottle of massage oil.
When she quietly asks if she can take care of me, I’m quick to tell her, “Yes, mami.” When she double-checks that I don’t need to see Alejandro, I’m quick to promise that I’ll never lie to her.
Truth is, I feel amazing, and it’s not only because I’m horny as fuck, and I can smell her mouthwatering pussy while she massages my sore muscles. Castillo wasn’t exaggerating when he said Sierra killed it during the game, and those short innings have my knees and back feeling human. Sure, I’m sore, but her thumbs, and elbows, and the heels of her palms are finding every aching spot that needs her.
When she gets down to my thighs I groan. Leave it to Sierra to make working the knots out of my quads an erotic masterpiece of pain and pleasure. She leans into her forearms, using her weight to get in deep. I rotate my leg when she slaps the inside of my thigh. By the time she works her way up to that trouble spot high in my groin, I am moaning her name and digging my fists into the pillows.
“Such a good boy,” she says in that silky-soft tone that she reserves for the bedroom. Her Domme voice–and I’m not even sure if she knows she’s doing it. “How’s that?”
She digs her elbow into the trouble spot, and I yelp as the muscle releases. “It fucking hurts,” I say honestly. “It hurts like a bitch, and I love it.”
“Ay, pobrecito,” she says, but she doesn’t even try to hide her grin.
Not that I care when she leans down and drags the flat of her tongue up the bottom of my cock. Root to tip, so slowly that I’m groaning all over again, and then she’s teasing the precum from my slit, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. She tilts her head to suck me from the side. Gliding back down with her eyes locked on mine, Sierra leaves my dick sloppy and turns her attention to my other thigh.
Back and forth she goes, until I’m sweating, and begging, and moaning up a storm. One second, her mouth is giving me that sloppy head that could probably make me her submissive toy, even if I weren’t head-over-heels for who she is outside of the bedroom, too. The next, she’s massaging deep into some other soft tissue and cooing words of encouragement.
“Roll over,” she says, as if she didn’t just release my cock with a messy pop.
She drizzles oil on my back and goes back to work, but all I can focus on is the way she’s straddling my hips as she works. Her cunt is dripping. Wet, and warm, and soft. I can take whatever she dishes out if there’s even a chance of getting that pretty pussy on my mouth.
“Up on your knees.” Her command pulls me from the haze I’ve been floating in while she worked my hamstrings and calves. I move slowly, already losing myself in that floating sensation that I only get with her. She swats my ass to hurry me up. It’s playful, but it still stings as I rise into the face down, ass up position she wants. “How should I reward you for being such a good boy?”
She presses her mouth to my low back, and I fist the sheets. A trail of kisses. Each open mouthed–wet and breathy–with tongue and teeth adding to the sensation while her fingertips bruise my hips.
With her in this position, it’s impossible not to think of exactly what I want from her. Asking to have my ass eaten isn’t exactly the easiest conversation to have, especially when I know so little about what she’s into.
“Shi-it,” I moan into the pillow when she reaches between my legs. She strokes my cock with her mouth still on my back, and I’m almost mad that we’re in a damn hotel room. I want–I need to scream for this woman.
“Is this what you want, pretty boy?” she asks with those torturously slow strokes.
“Yes–fuck–yes, mami. Please, don’t stop.”
“Is it all you want?” She knows the perfect speed and pressure to keep me on the edge. Before I can answer, her mouth dips lower. “No shame, Mateo. Tell me what you want.”
“Eat my ass,” I beg. “Please. Fuck, I need to come.”
She spreads my ass and spits.