Chapter 32
Lucio
P rincess slides off me, and I move quickly, pinning her beneath me. My legs settle between hers, my body pressing her into the bed, claiming the space above her.
Her face is still flushed from our little session, eyes wide and confused, as she breathes, “What are you doing?”
I lower my head, my lips ghosting over her cheek, her temple, before murmuring against her skin.
“I just wanted to make one thing clear.” My fingers press into her thighs, spreading them open wider, the heat of her pussy licking at me in waves. “You’re mine. After tonight, no one…” I drag my cock down her stomach, feeling her body shudder beneath me. “And I mean no one touches you.
Her breath hitches, her lips parting. But it’s not my words that steal the air from her lungs. It’s the way my cock slides lower, nudging against her slick folds. Her eyes widen, her legs still wrapped around my waist, holding me there.
This is dangerous. This is fucking reckless.
I should stop. I should pull back. But instead, I watch the way she trembles beneath me, the way her body responds, the way her hips shift ever so slightly, as if begging me for more.
My fingers press into the flesh of her inner thighs, so close to her pussy that her heat rolls off her, thick and heavy, pulling me closer.
My gaze is so focused on her wet slit that I barely hear her moan my fucking name.
“Lucio—” Her voice is breathy, wrecked.
I don’t look at her, instead I let my cock rest right over her slick folds. She rolls her hips against me, dragging her pussy over my cock, smearing her wetness all over me—and I nearly lose it. She does it again, rubbing against me, making a mess of both of us.
And I do something that I probably shouldn’t: I indulge her.
I drag my cock between her wetness, letting the thick, pierced head tease her clit while rolling my hips in slow, deliberate motions. She gasps, her fingers clawing at my biceps, her thighs trembling as she spreads them wider, giving me more.
I groan low, pressing my forehead to hers, my hands braced on either side of her head. My cock slides against her again, coated in her slickness, the head nudging against her entrance.
Right there. Right fucking there.
I shouldn’t. But I want to. Need to. I want to so fucking badly, I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.
“Just the tip, baby,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, raw. “Just for a second. I promise.”
Her breath catches, her fingers tightening in my hair. I watch her expression, waiting for resistance, waiting for her to tell me to stop.
She doesn’t. Instead, she arches her back, pressing her pussy against my cock.
I push forward just slightly, letting the thick head slip inside, stretching her, teasing her. We both moan at the same time, her slick warmth sucking me in just enough to make me insane.
“Fuck,” I groan, my arms nearly giving out.
She gasps, her back arching further, her hands gripping my forearms. I stay there, just the tip, barely inside, rolling my hips in soft, teasing motions that send a shudder through both of us.
Her walls flutter around me, gripping me tight, like she doesn’t want me to pull away.
“Lucio,” she breathes, her voice barely a whisper. “Condom.”
I go still.
My jaw clenches, my breath ragged as the realization slams into me.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, closing my eyes for a second, willing my body to calm the hell down.
I force myself to pull back, her wet heat making me nearly lose my fucking mind as I slide the head of my cock out of her, leaving her empty, clenching, needy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I mutter, gripping myself, stroking once, twice, my whole body coiling so tight I feel like I might snap.
Princess swallows hard, her hands dragging down my chest, her eyes hazy with desire as she watches me.
I shift up slightly, hovering over her, positioning myself right above her stomach. “Hold still, baby.”
She nods, her lips parted, her body still trembling from everything we just did—from everything I almost did.
I stroke myself faster, chasing the high that’s already so fucking close, already there.
“God, Princess—” I groan, my cock jerking in my grip.
Pleasure rips through me, white-hot, unstoppable. I spill onto her stomach, thick ropes of cum painting her skin, my muscles locking as the orgasm crashes over me.
For a long moment, I don’t move. I just pant, my forehead pressing against hers, my body hovering over her like I still don’t want to pull away.
Her hands slide up my arms, slow, hesitant. I look down at her, at the way she’s watching me—flushed, wrecked, beautiful.
Neither of us speaks. Because we both know if I had a condom, I wouldn’t have stopped.
I hover over her, my breath coming in rough, uneven pulls. Her skin is soft beneath me, flushed and dewy, her chest rising and falling in time with mine. My release glistens on her stomach, a filthy reminder of how close I came to ruining everything. To sinking all the way in. To never pulling out.
I swallow hard, dragging my thumb across her cheek. She doesn’t flinch away. Doesn’t move. Just stares up at me with something unreadable in her expression.
I shouldn’t have done this. I know that. But fuck, I don’t regret a single second of it.
Her fingers brush over my forearm, featherlight.
“Lucio,” she whispers, like she doesn’t know what to say next. Like she’s waiting for me to say something instead.
I should say something. I should tell her this was a mistake. I should pull back, put some goddamn distance between us before I cross another line.
Instead, I lean in, pressing my lips to her temple, lingering longer than I should.
“I need to go.” My voice is rough, raw.
She blinks up at me, her brows knitting together. “Right now?”
I push off her bed, standing to my full height. The air is thick between us, like a weight pressing down on my chest. She watches me carefully, still sprawled out, still looking too fucking beautiful like this. Like she was made to be underneath me.
I reach down, dragging my fingers over her stomach, scooping up some of the mess I made before bringing it to her lips. Her breath stutters, her thighs clenching together as she sucks my fingers clean, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Fuck,” I whisper, barely audible.
This changes everything.
I grab my jeans, pulling them on in one rough movement and zipping myself up. The weight of her stare makes it hard to focus. She sits up slightly, still bare, hair messy, ips swollen. She doesn’t cover herself. Doesn’t shy away.
“Why do you have to leave? Can’t we talk some more?” Her voice is soft, unsure.
I meet her gaze, my jaw locking for half a second before I exhale through my nose. “Because if I stay, we won’t be doing any talking.”
Her lips part slightly, but no words come out.
Yeah. She understands.
I move toward the window, pushing it open with one hand.
The cool night air rushes in, hitting my overheated skin.
I swing one leg over the sill before glancing back at her one last time.
She looks like a fucking dream, sprawled out of her bed, ruined, flushed, watching me like she doesn’t want me to go either.
“Lock your window after I leave,” I mutter.
She smirks, but it’s weak. “And if I don’t?”
I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. “You do not want me being able to open your fucking window again.”
And with that, I leave out her window, shutting it behind me.