Chapter 4 #2
For a moment, Mateo didn’t think she would follow the command.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open as if in shock.
He stared back at her, silently waiting for her to make up her mind.
His phone had gone off twice since she’d arrived, and it would be nothing to call in a replacement if she balked.
It would be annoying, as it was late and he had to get up early in the morning, but it was possible.
Biting her lip, she did as he said and went to the desk, pushing aside his closed laptop before laying her upper body over it. The pink dress inched up enough for him to make out the undersides of her ass cheeks.
“Pull your dress up to your waist,” he growled, sinking onto the bed.
She complied, easing the dress over her hips and revealing the black strip of silk between her legs.
“Panties off. Spread your legs.”
Her hands shook as she pushed the panties down around her ankles.
Then she stepped out of them, spreading her legs wide.
The appearance of her pussy, pink and waxed bare, finally got a reaction out of him.
It was like a chill running through him when he was cold or the purge of vomit from his stomach when he was sick.
A physical reaction he couldn’t control, an itch that needed scratching.
She did nothing for him, but she was warm, willing, and waiting. It was enough. It had to be enough.
“Touch yourself.”
She let out a little sound that sounded like approval before working her hand under herself.
Her fingers appeared between her legs, parting her lower lips and strumming over her clit.
Mateo watched as she worked herself, stroking her clit for a few minutes before pushing two fingers inside with a moan.
He watched in silence, waiting for the evidence that she was ready.
He didn’t have the patience for foreplay.
“You like that, baby?” she whispered between moans. “You like watching me fuck myself?”
Mateo didn’t answer, approaching her while pushing his sweatpants around his thighs.
She wiggled and groaned when he grasped her hips, pushing her tighter against the desk.
He slipped a hand between her legs, finding wetness smearing her inner thighs.
She pulled her fingers free, and he glanced down to find them glistening.
She reached for him, as if trying to help guide his cock inside her, but Mateo batted her hand aside and then pressed against the small of her back, a silent order for her to remain still.
He tore open the box of condoms, dumping them onto the desk.
It took him seconds to get one open and roll it on, keeping one hand on Christine’s back to hold her still.
She was panting now, squirming under his hand and begging him without words to fuck her.
So, he fucked her. He slammed into her in a single thrust, battering her against the desk and the desk against the wall.
The first grasp of her around him narrowed his world to only physical sensation, and he let himself go for the first time in months.
He dug his fingers into her ass and held her down, the sting of his thighs slapping against hers sharp and primitive.
She moaned and clawed at the desk as he went at her ruthlessly.
His entire body had gone rigid, the muscles of his chest and abdomen so tense he could hardly breathe between thrusts.
But he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop punishing this woman for not being Mariana or punishing himself for being so weak.
He went on drilling Christine at a pace that had him panting for air and her practically screaming in pleasure.
When she raised her head to look at him over her shoulder, he grasped the back of her neck and pushed it back down.
He held her in a merciless grip, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pushed against her one last time and came.
He gritted his teeth around the guttural sound pushing up through his throat, trembling as he pumped his hips and wrung himself out inside of her.
She went limp on the table and then began to sag with a low whimper.
Mateo barely had time to get the condom off and snatch up his sweatpants before she was sinking toward the floor.
He caught her up with one arm and deposited her on the bed, then paced to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
He stood at the sink, gripping the ceramic edge in both hands as he avoided his own gaze in the mirror.
If he looked, he would see what he felt certain Mari would see.
She would be horrified by his callousness, disgusted by his depravity.
Glancing over his shoulder, he found Christine watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. She didn’t seem to mind his roughness or his lack of finesse. Good. He wasn’t nearly done. He was already stirring again, the needs of his body doing battle with the turbulent storm of his mind.
Allowing that rawest, animalistic part of him to take the reins, he stormed from the bathroom, taking up another condom on the way to the bed.