Chapter 6
Diablo
“I hate you,” she says softly.
With those three little words, I know I’ve fucked this.
She has every reason to hate me, I’ve been an asshole to her, and she can clearly hook up with any rich attractive man she wants, so what the fuck does she need me for?
I thought I was affecting her the way she affects me, but clearly not. It’s time to admit defeat.
“I guess that’s a good enough reason,” I say, pushing away from the door and stepping back, ready to let her return to that fucking pendejo back in the bar.
She grips my shirt and pulls me towards her into a kiss.
Fuck, she wants this. I press her against the door, moving my hands to her body and kissing her back with everything I have.
I’m already hard, but I don’t want to rush her, so I shift to the side and let my thigh fall between her legs instead.
The last thing I expect is for her to grind against me, but watching her use me to feel good, it’s the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.
I moan into the kiss and grab a handful of her hair, loving how soft it feels between my fingers. I tilt her head so I can kiss her neck, desperate to find that spot that made her moan last time.
“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking sexy.”
I could do this forever, kissing her and letting her grind against my thigh, but she clearly has other ideas. Taking my hand that’s gripping her hip, she moves it down between her legs.
I groan. “You sure, Princess?”
“Touch me,” she gasps, “please.”
Not needing to be asked twice, I run my whole hand between her legs, feeling the lace of her underwear.
“Fuck, lace is so fucking hot.”
She chuckles. “Good to know.”
I can already feel how wet she is as she grinds against my hand, clearly desperate for any kind of friction. Keeping my other hand in her hair, I tilt her head back further, pulling her away from the kiss. She resists the hold and tries to kiss me again.
“Nah, princess. I wanna watch your face as you get yourself off on my hand.”
She moans and surprises me by doing as I ask, maintaining eye contact while she continues to grind against me.
Her breath tells me how close she’s getting, but I want… no, I need to feel more of her. Pushing her underwear to the side, I ease my middle finger into her, using the base of my palm to rub against her clit.
“Fuck!” she cries.
“So loud, you want everyone out there to hear you?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m not the one making all the noise.”
I curl my finger slightly, searching for that spot, and I know I’ve found it when she cries out again.
“Fuck, Diablo! ”
“Using names too? Come on, we don’t wanna make Designer Suit Steve jealous now, do we?”
“Fuck you.”
She grips my shirt as her body lets out a small shudder.
“You’re getting close, princess. Tell me what you need.”
She moans and bites her lip like she did in her apartment. Fuck, it drives me crazy seeing her do that, all I want to do is bite it myself.
“I told you not to fucking do that,” I say, gripping her hair tighter. “Now tell me what you need.”
She whimpers, so close to coming undone.
“Use your words, princess.”
“Fuck,” she pants, “I need another finger inside me and use your thumb on my clit.”
“There, that wasn’t so difficult was it,” I say, following her instructions.
I don’t know how I’m managing to stay so calm; this is the hottest fucking sex of my life and I’m not even getting touched.
Even with one finger inside her she feels so fucking tight, and as I pull out to add another, I’m trying really hard not to think about how it would feel to have my cock buried inside her right now.
Curling my fingers to find that spot again, I use my thumb to circle her clit, and her body trembles. She’s gripping my shoulders like a vice, fuck, I hope she leaves bruises.
She pulses around my fingers and holds her breath for a moment before allowing her body to succumb to her orgasm.
I keep my hand there while she rides it out, wanting to prolong it as long as she needs.
Her eyes are closed, and in that moment she’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ll never get tired of this sight; I want to make her come again and again .
She comes down from her high, and removes my hand from between her legs, trembling with oversensitivity as my fingers brush along her.
Opening her eyes, she looks at me, and I can’t resist lifting my fingers to my mouth and sucking them clean.
I’ve never done that before, usually just wiping my hands on something, but I couldn’t resist, and I’m glad I didn’t, she tastes fucking incredible.
“Fuck,” she says, her head falling back against the door.
I chuckle. “And you were worried it would be terrible between us, princess.”
“Alright, there’s no need to be so fucking smug.”
She gently pushes me away, but I grab her hands and pull her in towards me for a kiss, gentle this time.
“So, my place or yours?” I ask.
“What?”
“Are we going to my place or yours?”
“What for?” she smirks.
“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you, princess?”
She studies my face, holding eye contact for a bit before letting her gaze drop to my lips.
“Well I’m sure as hell not going to your room at the clubhouse, adding my name to the long list of women you’ve had there.”
“They don’t even compare to you, but fine, your place it is.”
She shakes her head, turning to open the door, but I put my hands on her hips and pull her back to me, pressing myself against her perfectly round ass.
“Let’s go and let Designer Suit Steve down gently shall we,” I say, “I hated the guy, but now I know firsthand what he missed out on tonight, I kind of feel bad for him.”
“Fuck you, Diablo! ”
“Don’t worry, princess, there’ll be plenty of time for that back at yours.”
Elizabeth
I yank the door open and step out, making my way back to the bar.
This fucking guy.
Granted, he’s just given me the most intense orgasm of my life, but does he need to be so fucking arrogant about it?
Confidence is sexy, when he asked me what I needed to come, I nearly came there and then, there’s nothing hotter than a guy asking you what you need.
But the arrogance he’s showing now, not sexy, in fact, it’s pissing me off.
Mr. Finance, Simon, is still waiting at the bar; it’s not as though we were quick, so the fact that he’s still sitting there makes me feel bad for him. He looks up but his smile drops, it’s clearly obvious what happened in the restroom, I probably look like I’ve just had my brains fucked out…
Shit.
“Simon, I’m really sorry. Something has come up and I need to bail, I hope you can enjoy the rest of your night though.”
He doesn’t reply, instead nodding, and looking over my shoulder at Diablo, his glare icy. I walk away, but can still hear Diablo when he passes, “Sorry about that Steve. Oh, nice suit by the way.”
Fucking asshole. I don’t even need to look, I know the expression he has on his face, that smug smile that makes me want to punch him.
He just had to go and rub it in Simon’s face even more.
He is infuriating, yet here I am, taking him back to my apartment, again.
Forget having a praise kink, maybe I’m just a fucking masochist.
Note to self, never wear an obscenely short dress with lace underwear on the back of a motorcycle… even more so after you’ve just had the most intense orgasm of your life.
The ride back to my apartment can only be described as torture.
It took everything in me not to let myself slide forward and press against Diablo’s back to enjoy all of the sensations.
Instead, I had to try and keep my legs as still as possible to stop my dress from riding up and revealing my underwear to the other drivers, all the while gripping the handles on the back of the bike with all the strength I had.
Once we’re parked, I jump off as quickly as possible and adjust my dress, before removing the helmet and shaking out my hair. Diablo presses up against me from behind.
“That dress should be illegal, princess. And you should wear your hair down more often; you look so fucking beautiful.”
He runs his hand through my hair, but I step away. Without looking back, I walk to the stairwell entrance and use a band from my purse to tie my hair up into its usual messy bun. He scoffs but doesn’t say anything.
We walk up the stairs in silence, my high heels adding that extra little sway to my ass and my hips, accentuating everything the dress is displaying. It’s definitely the heels… not me… okay, that’s a lie.
The first thing I do in my apartment is kick off the heels; I hate wearing them, but they’re helpful when I’m trying to pick up guys. The door locks behind me and the chain is slid into place.
“You think you’re staying long enough to need the chain on?” I ask.
He stops at the edge of the kitchen, hands clasped behind his back. Letting his gaze run from my eyes, all the way down my body, and back up again. He does this thing where he half licks his lips, and it’s sexy as hell, but I don’t let myself react.
“I can go if you want me to,” he says.
He knows I want him to stay but that I’m pissed off.
He can read me like a book and I’m out of my league, my poker face sucks.
I’m better at flirting with strangers; I can act the way they want me to because they don’t know the real me.
They don’t know the girl who just wants to curl up with a book and live in jeans and over-sized t-shirts.
But Diablo has only ever seen that version of me, he knows I’m not this sexy confident woman who drinks G&T’s at luxury bars, I’m just good at playing that role with strangers.
I lean back against the kitchen table and look at him as I shake my head. He crosses the short distance between us and takes my face in his hands.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, before dipping his head and kissing me, starting soft but getting more intense.
Anger rises in me again, ‘that’s what I thought’… arrogant asshole. I channel my emotion into kissing him back, but maybe I take it a bit too far when I bite his lip.
“Fuck!” he says, pulling away and bringing his fingers to his lips.
He holds my gaze before pulling me back to him and kissing me even harder.
“Do you even know the effect you have on men?” he asks.
“No, tell me.”
“You genuinely have no idea how much Designer Suit Steve wanted to fuck you, do you?”
He chuckles against my skin, using my hair to pull my head back again as he kisses around my neck and throat.
“I watched you before I came over, you should have seen how much restraint it was taking him not to reach out and touch you.”
Is this him boasting about his win over Simon? Stroking his own ego, telling himself how much Simon wanted me, but he’s the one who got to take me home. Fuck. This.
“Yeah? Well maybe if you hadn’t shown up and interrupted, I’d have been fucked already, instead of standing here listening to you talk about it.”
He pulls back and grips my hair tighter. I’ve hit a nerve, good. I stare back at him defiantly.
“Is that all you want, princess? You just wanna be fucked?”
“Well what else are we doing here?” I ask, daring him to make the next move.
He reaches one hand for his fly and the other goes to open my legs, but I knock his hand away before he has a chance.
I turn and face the table, bending over it.
Slowly lifting my dress, I reveal the lacy underwear I now know he loves.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long slow exhale.
When I glance back at him, he’s staring at me hungrily.
“Well?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, which isn’t easy when you’re literally throbbing with anticipation.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom, so I turn back to the table and bend over even more, resting on my forearms. He tears open the packet and I hear an intake of breath as he rolls the condom on.
When he pulls my underwear down, I wriggle my legs so they drop to the floor, I know the view he’s getting of my ass jiggling won’t hurt either. One hand grabs my ass cheek and the other slides between my legs as I part them slightly.
“So fucking wet,” he murmurs it so quietly, he’s talking to himself, almost as though he’s mesmerized by me and in his own world.
I’m expecting him to thrust in one go, but he surprises me by going slow, with short pumps to ease himself into me.
When he finally does go all the way, I moan as he presses against me.
I knew he was a decent size from where I’d felt him when we kissed, but now he’s inside me, he fills me in all the right ways.
He isn’t moving, instead running his hands over me, squeezing my ass and gripping my waist.
“You’re so fucking tight, so fucking perfect.”
I can’t resist the temptation to tease him, so I gently engage my muscles, tightening around him for a second, before slowly releasing.
“Fuck, princess, you can’t do shit like that.”
“You mean this?” I ask, engaging the muscles again.
“Holy shit! Fuck. It’s taking everything I have not to blow my load like some fucking teenager, and you’re really not helping.”
He laughs and it’s hot to hear how much he isn’t coping with this situation, all the arrogance and cockiness gone, we’re back to just making each other feel good.
I use my arms against the table to shift myself forward and I slide off his cock a short way, before pressing myself back against him. He groans and I do it again.
“I tell you I’m trying not to blow my load early and your response is to start fucking yourself on my cock.”
He grips my hips to stop me moving.
“Well if you aren’t going to do it,” I smirk over my shoulder, spurring him on .
His eyes darken and in the next breath he thrusts into me, again and again, building up his pace. I arch my back as he grabs my hair and pulls slightly, using the leverage to thrust into me even more. It’s not long before he comes, shuddering against me.
He pulls out and gently tugs my hair until I’m standing and leaning back against him. His arms circle my waist as he kisses my shoulder. I turn and kiss him, snaking my arms up and around his neck.
He leans back for a moment and smiles.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.”