Chapter 16 - Marisol #2
"You wanted to taste me on the boat," he says, one hand tangling in my hair. "Open your mouth."
I part my lips and he pushes inside, not gentle, not careful. His cock stretches my mouth, hitting the back of my throat, making me gag slightly.
"That's it," he groans, holding my head still while he fucks my mouth. "Take it all. Every inch. You said you wanted it, now you got it."
I relax my throat, letting him push deeper, my eyes watering. His cock is so thick I can barely breathe around it, but the sounds he's making keep me going. Desperate, wrecked sounds that make me want to take more.
"Fuck, your mouth," he pants, hips snapping forward. "I’ve been imagining this. You on your knees, choking on me."
I moan around him, the vibration making him curse. My hands come up to cup his balls, rolling them gently, and his grip in my hair tightens.
"Enough," he says suddenly, pulling out.
A string of saliva connects my lips to his cock and he groans at the sight.
He glances to the bathroom door, and for a moment I think he’s going to flee.
But then he pushes me onto my back, spreading my legs wide.
For a moment he just looks at me. Spread out, naked, pussy dripping, lips swollen from his cock.
I must look a complete mess, red and sweaty, but his eyes hold nothing but lust.
"I need to be inside you, woman," he says, positioning himself at my entrance. "Right now."
My agreement comes out like a whimper rather than words, and I wrap my legs around his waist, willing him to understand that I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
He slams into me with one brutal thrust, filling me completely. We both cry out. Him from the tight, wet heat, me from the sudden fullness. He's so thick it borders on too much, stretching me to my limit.
"Fuck," he grits out, jaw clenched.
The look in his eyes is wild, like he’s about to flee the scene of a crime. I can see the fear in his gaze, so I reach up and cup his face with my hand.
“Stay with me, Nico,” I say.
If he leaves now, there’ll be no coming back from it. If he disappears into the bathroom, I won’t pursue him again. This is it. I don’t voice all that, but I can tell he hears it anyway.
"Move," I beg, clenching around him deliberately. "Please, Nico, stay with me."
He pulls almost all the way out, then eases in slowly, his gaze softening as it lands on mine. “I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to, Mrs. Rosetti.”
My lips twitch in a smile, and the weirdest part is that I don’t even feel like teasing him for his wife roleplaying fantasy.
He starts moving in earnest then, his thrusts deep and powerful. Each one hits something inside me that makes my vision blur. This isn't the mechanical perfection from before. This is raw, animalistic, his control completely shattered.
"I need to feel you come on my cock," he growls, angling his hips to hit my g-spot with every thrust. "Need to feel this pussy squeezing me when you fall apart."
I wrap my legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper. "Don't hold back," I beg, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Let me see you. All of you."
His pace increases, the bed frame creaking beneath us. His hands are everywhere—gripping my hips, squeezing my breasts, sliding up to pin my wrists above my head. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress feels like salvation.
"My," he grunts, each thrust punctuating the words, "Rosetti. Wife."
The possessiveness in his voice should bother me, but it only makes me wetter, my body responding to his claim in ways my brain can't process. My third orgasm builds fast, coiling tight at the base of my spine.
"Close," I gasp, my back arching off the bed. "Nico, I'm so close."
"Look at me when you come," he demands, his voice rough with need. "I want to see your eyes when I make you mine."
Our gazes lock, and something electric passes between us. Not just lust but something deeper, more terrifying. His hand slips between our bodies, thumb finding my clit, pressing and circling in perfect time with his thrusts.
I shatter completely, screaming his name as my pussy clenches around him. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, so intense I think I might actually pass out. Through it all, I keep my eyes on his, letting him see every second of my surrender.
"Fuck, Marisol," he groans, his rhythm faltering as my walls pulse around him. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come."
His thrusts become erratic, desperate. I can feel him swelling inside me, getting impossibly harder. His breathing changes, becomes ragged. The veins in his neck stand out, his jaw clenched tight.
"Come inside me," I whisper against his ear, biting the lobe gently. "Let me feel it. Let me watch you lose control."
He makes a sound—half growl, half sob—his whole body tensing above me. For a moment, he looks terrified, like he's standing at the edge of a cliff. I reach up, cup his face in my hands.
"Stay with me," I remind him. "Don't hide from me now."
Something breaks in his expression. His eyes lock with mine, wide and vulnerable and scared.
Then he's coming, his cock pulsing deep inside me, filling me with his release.
His face—God, his face in this moment is everything I wanted.
No walls, no barriers, just pure, unfiltered pleasure and vulnerability.
"Marisol," he gasps as he empties himself completely.
He collapses on top of me, his weight a delicious pressure, his cock still twitching inside me. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as he shakes through the aftershocks. His heart hammers against mine, our skin slick with sweat, our breathing synchronized.
For long minutes, we stay like that, connected in every way possible. His face is buried in my neck, and I feel the wetness of sweat there. Or maybe tears.
"Don't move," I whisper, holding him against me. "Not yet."
"Wasn't planning to," he admits against my neck. "I can't feel my legs."
I laugh, the movement making us both groan as oversensitive parts shift. "The tactical banana finally exhausted?"
"You broke me," he says softly.
Eventually he shifts, rolling to his side but keeping me tucked against him. Then, impossibly, I fall asleep.