10. Chapter Ten—Carlotta #3
Blinking at the overload of senses, I turn my cheek to whimper into the corner of the featherdown pillow beneath my head when Sir grinds against my aching core.
“Look at me, Carlotta.” He cups a hand to my jawline, middle finger and thumb digging into each side of my cheeks, creating divots and turning my head back to face him. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A distraction from your mind.”
I meet his gaze wordlessly, taking in the fire behind his dark eyes, the pinched lines around his full mouth.
Mind numbingly slowly, he pushes himself back inside my core, carving out a space for himself inside my body.
I retaliate by dragging my sharp nails up the smooth length of his spine until he hisses.
“I’m a selfish man, Carlotta, but I’ve trained myself to play fair. If you’re getting something you want tonight, then I get something too. And tonight, I want to see your pretty little face while I fuck you until you scream.”
My body vibrates with the need to move, to chase the ecstasy building behind my hips, but I try to keep still.
“Feeling a little desperate for it, hm?” He smirks, peering down at the place we’re joined.
At the place my body is swallowing him down with each delicious pull and push of his hips.
“I know you are, so just admit it. I can already feel this pretty pink cunt trying to milk me for all I’m worth. You feel her fluttering?”
I nod; the cool metal of Sir’s pinkie finger grazing my neck as he touches my racing pulse point.
“I do too. I gotta tell you, Red, it’s an ego boost coated endorphin rush to know she’s fluttering for me…for my fat dick. I might fuck around and let it go to my head.”
A scoff escapes me, followed by a half-hearted eyeroll.
“What?” I twine my legs around Sir’s waist, ankles knotted at the base of his spine, using his body as leverage to raise my hips from the mattress. I’m done with waiting.
Slowly, I fuck up onto him, lashes flittering at the heat I feel begin to build again. “Like—shit—like your head isn’t big enough, already?”
“You better watch that mouth of yours, Red, before I shove my cock inside it to shut you up.”
I rock into the cradle of his muscular thighs, gasping when Sir meets my thrust, tilting his magic hips upwards to graze the rough, spongy spot of my G-spot with the tip of his dick.
“Is that a threat? Or a promise, Sir?”
Tightening his grip on my face, he lowers his mouth to my neck, biting and attacking the skin there, before he dips south, tongue laving at the twin smears of dried blood decorating the space above my heart.
“I think Cassiel was onto something when he told me your snarky, back talking gets him as hard as rock…god this pussy.”
I feel my walls flutter around Sir at his filthy words, my third orgasm of the night hovering in the not too far away distance.
“With the way your pussy is sobbing for me, I’d say you like it too, Red. Go and tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t, Sir—holy fuck.” Wiggling my hand between our writhing bodies, I touch my clit, circling in well-practiced circles I know will get me off.
Sir leans back to watch me play with myself, finally letting go of my chin to squeeze at my tits instead and the thick flesh of my thighs wrapped around his waist.
“That’s it, play with your little pink clit.
” He times his words with a punch of his hips that has me sliding across the mattress with the force of his thrusts.
“You feel so good, Red. You always do. Proudest thing I’ve ever done is train this tight pussy to take me; to fit to the exact shape of my dick.
Isn’t that, right? Don’t you take me so well, sweet girl? ”
I think I cry out, but the high buzzing whine in my ears makes it harder to hear much at all.
All I can focus on is coming again; a ribbon of heat curling down my spine, wrapping itself around my hips and my core until I feel like I’m going to combust from the inside out.
Vaguely, I register Sir licking and sucking at my nipples, dripping his filth coated words over my skin.
“Give to me, Red. Come on, scream for me,” Sir all but coos, supporting my neck when I tip my head backwards, face to the ceiling. “I want everyone in this fucking building to know who you belong to. I want them to know whose fucking you, whose owns you. Tell ‘em, baby. Scream my name.”
I shatter; silver dots dancing behind my eyelids as my third orgasm tears through me like a wildfire.
It’s just the side of painful that has tears springing up along my lower lash line, my whole body spasming beneath Sir’s touch.
“Let it happen,” I hear Sir say, hips lazily dragging back and forth along my G-spot, wringing out every drop of pleasure from my body. “There you go, sweet girl. That’s the spot, huh?”
Still twitching, I squeeze my eyes shut tight, feeling my skin sear hot and tingly.
Exhaustion coats my bones, draping itself over me like a warm blanket, welcoming and all consuming.
I could fall asleep like this; Sir deep inside me, filling me up, keeping me from feeling empty.
Maybe I’ll suggest it to him when I—
“Feeling tired, Red?”
I smack my lips and nod, wiggling my hips to meet a particular jagged thrust.
“Just a little longer, okay? I’m gonna blow in your tight little pink pussy and then you can sleep ‘til your hearts content.”
I reach out to wrap my hands around Sir’s corded forearms, digging my nails into the skin there, while he chases his own release. “Please do.”
Thrusts stuttering, hands scrambling to grip the thickest curve of my hips, he fucks up into my core, burying his face in my hair when he comes with a deep groan.
Warm ribbons of come coat the pulsing walls of my pussy, marking me.
I smile to myself, blinking open my heavy eyelids to watch Sir flatten his palms to the bed, pressing himself upwards.
He slides out of me with a curse, reaching for his button down to clean us both up.
Already, I miss the warmth of his body, the solid comfort he can provide. I swallow back my request to ask him to stay; I know he won’t.
Can’t.
And in the morning, after a good night’s sleep, I’ll be glad I didn’t let the words slip my mouth.
But that doesn’t make them any less barbed or easy to swallow.
I keep my eyes closed as Sir swipes the soft material of his shirt along my bare thighs, cleaning me up and then pulls the blanket up to my shoulders.
Humming my thanks, I turn my cheek to the pillow, listening to the soft sound of rustling as he re-dresses.
I surrender to the exhaustion coursing through my sated body, sinking deeper into the warm, comfy bed beneath me, until I float somewhere in the dream state, half awake and more than half asleep.
In my dream, Sir moves to the side of the bed, leaning over me and brushes the stray baby hairs sticking to my damp, sweat coated temples.
His face dips to mine, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth—the closest thing we’ve ever come to kissing properly—before he stands up tall and walks to the door.
I want to chase him, but I’m too tired. I can hardly get my head off the pillow, let alone order my legs to move.
So, instead, I strain my ears to hear him.
“Goodnight, Red. I’ll see you soon,” he utters, before the door clicks shut behind him.