CHAPTER THIRTEEN DIEGO #2
She sighs, a little dreamily, as if she can’t believe this is really happening. Honestly? I’m the one who needs to be pinched, because how a woman so intelligent and captivating wants me – a man so lost and jaded by his own mistakes – is beyond me.
“Are you okay with keeping this a secret?” I ask, in a whisper, dragging my teeth along her collarbone. God, she smells so fucking good. We’ll be better off if no one knows about this – especially Gaby and Jordan.
“Yes. Sneaking around is thrilling.”
“You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you?” I smirk, thinking of her bookshelf filled with smutty romances. I bet she has fantasies she’d love to explore with me.
With her hands firmly cradling my face, she steals another kiss. “I like the idea of having you all to myself better.”
“Fuck,” I murmur. “That’s right. I’m all yours, baby.”
I lose myself as I kiss and kiss and kiss her, clearly unable to get enough and satiate my growing addiction. I finish unbuttoning her top, dragging my palms along her ribs. I groan, biting on her lower lip, as I touch bare skin. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want it. If anything gets too much.”
“Keep going,” she whispers, grabbing my wrists to bring my hands to her breasts. I instantly moan at the feel of her – so full, so perfectly made for me – marveling at the sensation of dainty lace scraping against my palms.
“Fucking hell.” She’s a perfect handful. I observe her breasts spilling out of her lacy emerald bra, the color so fucking lovely against her pale skin. “That’s what you wear every day?”
Now all I’ll think about is the kind of lingerie she has on underneath her clothes. Is this the beginning of my ruination? Yeah, sure feels like it.
I knead at her perky breasts, testing their weight.
Alara arches into my touch, and I take the time to look at how she’s splayed out before me.
Her skirt has ridden to the top of her thighs, making me wonder if she’s wearing matching panties.
I want to pull her thigh-high socks down with my teeth, want to taste every fucking perfect inch of her.
“Yes,” she answers breathily. “I feel sexy when I wear lingerie.”
I wet my lips. “You are. Trust me, you really are.”
As I push her skirt up to her waist, she scrambles with my belt while kissing my chest. I tip my head back when her lips skim over my nipple, and grunt when she sucks the skin over my pectoral, leaving a deep red mark.
“You’re so hot,” I whisper, as she unbuttons my jeans and tears the zipper down.
“Me? Have you seen yourself?”
A laugh rumbles in my chest. “I’m pretty good-looking, aren’t I?”
She rolls her eyes. “There he is.”
My gaze falls to the apex of her thighs where the tiniest, flimsiest piece of lace covers her. It, of course, matches her bra. I can’t wait to see her naked so I can worship every inch of her.
My fingers slip beneath the waistband. Plucking it, I let it snap against her hip. “You want to roll your eyes at me? Do it when you come.”
She pushes my jeans down just enough to rest them below my ass. The moment she palms my hard erection through my boxer briefs, she parts her mouth, and I hold a whimper in. “Diego, this— you—”
“Are you about to complain about how big I am?”
She squeezes me, hard enough for my hips to jerk into her touch. “Why don’t you make me come instead of running your cocky mouth?”
This woman drives me insane. In a – strangely – good way.
The way my lips crash down on hers forcefully elicits a moan from her. I drink in the sound, her taste, the way she feels in the palms of my hands as I touch her breasts, pinch her nipples, and roll my hips.
Alara cries out at the friction, locking her legs around the small of my back to bring me closer.
“Fuck. The sounds you make drive me crazy,” I mumble.
She winds her arms around my neck, fingers weaving through my hair as she grinds on me.
At that point, she’s barely sitting on the table with the way she clings to me.
I rut into her, pleasure rolling through me at the way she rubs herself on my length.
My hands grab the back of her thighs to guide her movements, my fingertips digging into her ass.
“Diego,” she whimpers.
She throws her head back, giving me enough space to lean down and wrap my lips around her nipple. I dampen the fabric of her bra, letting my tongue flick around the taut bud.
Her airy moans alone could make me come. But it’s the way she moves against me, intent on giving us both unadulterated pleasure that has my mind going in a frenzy.
“That’s it, baby,” I say against her chest. “Take what you want. Make yourself feel good. You should see how beautiful you look right now.”
The way my name rolls off the tip of her tongue sends a pulsing heat straight to my cock. Latching my lips on the swell of her breast, I suck until I leave a crimson mark. She’d look so beautiful with the memory of my mouth all over her body – a masterpiece only I get the privilege of studying.
When her nails trail down my back and reach the waistband of my boxers, I groan in frustration as realization dawns on me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, not pushing my briefs down as she senses my hesitation.
“I don’t have a condom,” I mutter, before capturing her lips again.
“You don’t?”
I roll my cock on the length of her covered center, causing her to bite down on her lip to keep her moan quiet. As she starts moving her hips again, I know her clit is getting the attention it deserves, and the thought of her getting off like this makes me piston even harder into her.
“I don’t even have some at my house,” I say, slightly irritated. “Didn’t plan on coming back home to hook up with a smoke-show. But I’ll go buy a box tomorrow.”
She giggles, and I don’t even know what’s so funny. I’m fucking pissed at myself for not thinking this through. I want to fuck her, feel her, and even if she could be on the pill, I’m not risking anything.
“I’ll make you feel so good, Alara.” I dot her chest with light kisses. “I’ll make you come so hard, every fucking day. No way I’m wasting a moment away from you. You can show me what you want, what you like. You can learn how I like it.”
“Yes, yes.” Her eyes are shut closed, her brows pinched in pleasure. I can feel her nails digging in my back, the pain making me tremble. I like it. I like how responsive her body is. How it seeks a high by moving against me.
Pulling her taut against me, I devour her mouth, inhale all her pleasured sighs. Her bra brushes against my skin in the most delicious way, her hips undulating in the most alluring dance.
A bead of sweat rolls down the valley of my pectorals and I watch the way her lace rubs against me. My boxers are damp with pre-cum, and if we keep going like that, I’ll blow inside my briefs like a teenager.
With my hands under her thighs and slipping to her ass, I piston into her, watching how her breasts bounce even confined in the bra. “You’re going to come while dry humping my cock, aren’t you?”
She moans, looking at me with a haze of lust darkening those hazel eyes. “Yes.”
“I bet you’re soaking wet.” I know she is, I can feel it.
“Why don’t you check for yourself?”
I throw my head back, the base of my spine already tingling. “Fuck.”
Pulling her lace to the side, I whimper at the sight of her arousal. Her landing strip is so fucking hot that it has my cock twitching again. She feels it, pushing herself further against me and rubbing her wetness over my briefs.
I hate that there’s a barrier between us, but if I rub myself, bare, on her? There’s no way I’ll be able to control myself. I’ll want to push into her, I’ll want to fuck her, and I can’t be that reckless.
Another cry leaves her mouth at the contact, and I grab her hips to guide her up and down my hard, throbbing cock. “You’re so hot. So desperate to come. Drenching my clothes with your arousal.”
“I’m marking what’s mine,” she seethes. It’s so unexpected, so primal of her, that I moan loudly. “Oh, fuck, Diego.”
“That’s it. Come on me.”
I pull her mouth to mine, our teeth clashing and our lips meeting messily.
Her breathing starts to change, increasing and staggering.
My balls tighten, and just as I push into her with more force, she cries out and comes so hard that her body stills, keeping her clit right against the head of my cock to ride her pleasure out.
Feeling her pulsate around me, I groan into our kiss and roll my hips once more, feeling my cock twitching and tightening.
Alara, still in a haze of pleasure, reaches down my boxers while breathing heavily. The first contact of her palm around my tip has stars whitening my vision, my orgasm shooting through me so hard, so unexpectedly, that I slump into her. My hips jerk, spasm, then still, and I spill into her hand.
“Oh, fuck,” she whimpers as her legs shake around my hips. “That was—”
“Yeah,” I say hoarsely. “Like a fucking fifteen-year-old.”
Alara hides her face in my neck and chuckles, her breath tickling my damp skin. I gently rub her back, soothing her as we both come down from the high, our chests rising and falling in perfect sync.
Holy shit.
I can’t believe this just happened.
She was incredibly sexy, and I was pathetically desperate for her, but I’m not even ashamed of blowing like that.
“Hot,” she whispers. “I was going to say that it was hot.”
My heart is about to stall with the way it’s beating so fast. Gently cupping her face in my trembling hands, I brush her hair out of the way and place a tender kiss on her lips. “So fucking hot. This is just the beginning of our deal.”
For a moment, time stops as she holds my gaze, a satisfied smile on her face. “I can’t wait for more.”
“So eager to fuck me,” I taunt, before pecking her cheek.
As I pull away, she straightens herself, and when she tries to adjust her panties, I hook my fingers beneath the bands and pull them down her legs. I pocket them as she looks at me, bewildered. “They’re mine now.”
She arches a brow, her cheeks flushing despite the confidence in her voice. “Are you going to fuck yourself with them while you think of me tonight?”
Fuck. I love her dirty mind. “You bet I am.”
We share another soft kiss before she hops off the table to fetch some tissues for me and her hand.
I’ve slept with a few girls, and this is the moment where it often gets awkward as we get dressed, but Alara is quick to talk about her day with her mom and, weirdly, I don’t feel that usual sense of discomfort during the aftermath.
She draws a few chuckles out of me when she rambles, getting animated with her hands.
This feels natural.
Feels good. Really good.
As I clean her hand, she taunts me about the hickey she left on my pec, and I pester her about the way she left her mark on my briefs. She flushes at that, and I kiss the inside of her wrist as a form of apology.
And as I watch her walk around with her cardigan undone, her mussed-up hair, and her blood-rushed lips, I can’t help but think that she’s already ruined me – and I haven’t even fully fucked her yet.