Mi Carino (14 page)

She rolled her hips and felt the head of his penis rub at the lips of her sex seeking entrance. “Diego, condom!” she said, again turning her face away from the kiss, and pushing her hand to his chest. Sure she wanted it; she needed it at this point. But she would not do it unless she protected herself. She didn’t know him. Not really.

Diego grunted and said something in Spanish. Her heart sank. Was he the kind of man that would? Then she had him wrong. About to offer that they slow things down a bit, he reached over and moved to the side of the bed, grabbing his suit jacket.

So he was the kind of man that carried condoms in his jacket pocket? Did he know he was going to get some? Of course he did. The arrogant…

Marcella stop it. Just screw his brains out and send him out the door.

She covered her face and willed herself to relax.

“
Look at me.”

She lowered her hands and looked at him. He smiled, and it drew her back in. “You do the honors.” He offered her the golden foil wrapper. Relief flooded her and she felt her doubts ease. Diego dropped on the bed and rolled to his back. Rising to her knees she ripped the foil packet open with her teeth and removed the sticky latex. With steady hands she rolled the ring down his shaft, his thickly veined penis filled it to the brim with several inches of him left uncovered. The feel of him so smooth, long, and strong in her hands made the heat build again. She never felt so aroused, so desired, so bold before in her life.

 “
Vení acá,”
he said drawing her down to him. He kissed her forehead, then between her brow, then the point of her slender nose. He kissed one eye and it closed, then the other. He brushed his lips over her mouth. “Remember my promise to you?”

“
That you will not hurt me. Yes.” She breathed.

“
Then believe it. I want nothing from you, but to pleasure you. Let me show you.”

His hands went down her cheeks to her neck and then her shoulders as he kissed her chin. He slipped them to her hips and pulled her up. Her knees parted on either side of him. He slid down the bed so that she was up on her knees facing the headboard and he was beneath her sex. Marcella’s mouth stretched open to a silent frozen gasp as her hands fell flat to the headboard.

Then he grabbed her by the buttocks and situated her on his face. He thrust his tongue into her pussy. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her mouth closed. Every nerve ending in her body pooled down to that spot. His tongue eased out of her channel and did a flat swipe up her sex parting the lips of her vagina. She clenched her teeth hard and tried to stifle her sexual cry of enjoyment. But pleasure exploded between her thighs, making her vaginal walls tighten with violent spasms. And he kept going. Hot breath fanned her clit, and he gave long lazy licks around her quivering bud. He paused, and then licked again. It went on and on. Lick, lick, lick, pause, and then his lips sealed her clitoris in between and he sucked hard. She choked down her cry of pleasure, dropping her head in defeat as her entire body from her hips down gave way to tremendous shakes.

Marcella slammed her hands against the headboard and rapture split her to the core as she shook through the best orgasm she’d had in a while.  She tried to rise. The mounting pressure had her body damp with sweat. He held her firm. The wet slick noise of his licking, sucking, tongue fucking, added to her arousal. She ground down on his face with her ass rolling. It felt so good, so delicious. She blushed hard. His tongue, though buried deep, wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way. Marcella started to buck when he sucked her clit, and all her inner muscles of her stomach drew together and twisted into a knot. Her hold on her orgasm dissolved, and her clit remained trapped in the warmth of his mouth. The headboard rattled from her banging it into the wall while her moaning grew louder and louder. Rapture hit her like a lightning bolt, forcing her to toss her head back and cry out her pleasure to the ceiling like an opera singer.

Marcella went limp. He eased from beneath and dragged her down. She was too busy convulsing to notice. Prisms of light danced behind her closed lids, they were squeezed so tight. Then she gasped when he flipped her, his knees parting her thighs, his hands holding tight to her hips, angling her pelvis, and forcing her thighs wider. The head of his penis probed gently, testing her, and even the slight push sent spasms of wanton lust rippling through her pussy like the aftershocks of the kiss he gave her below.

Just as her eyes began to open and her heart began to stabilize he gave her one long thrust and lodged himself inside of her. She moaned as the fullness of him so swiftly, gave her so much pleasure it was almost painful. Marcella had never been so stretched and filled before. She could feel every generous inch of him. It gave her a wonderful shocking sensation. Her inner walls clenched and her hips lifted to press hard against his to make him stay joined with her longer. It was not to be. He began to move with the sure solid thrusts that forced her to take him deeper. Marcella sobbed and gasped, unable to grapple with the concurrent shots of ecstasy driven through her. She clung to him desperately through his hip strikes—tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

He stopped. Her lids parted and she found his dark locks flat to his head and his sexy body covered in beads of perspiration. “Marcella? Are you okay?” he asked in a voice strained but tender, his whole body shaking with restraint to not fuck her harder.

“
Yes, it feels so incredible,” she choked out, she blushed, embarrassed that she actually shed tears. “Don’t stop Diego, it feels good.”

“
Hang on, it’s about to get better.”

That was the only warning she received. He ran his arm under and around her to anchor her hips in place. Then he withdrew nearly completely before slamming into her hard and strong. Marcella’s eyes widened. Diego began to move in an unstoppable rhythm and he fucked her hard and fast. A new orgasm gripped her, hurling her over the edge, then yanking her back, to hurl her over the edge again, then back again. Where would it end? She nearly cried out for release as he pumped harder, his silky chest hair distressing her sensitive nipples with the constant friction.

Marcella shattered with shouts of ecstasy as her body bucked and his tensed all over. He pumped her hard, before dissolving into bodily jerks as he emptied his lust and desire into the reservoir of the condom, collapsing on top of her.

Chapter Seven

Sleep.

The rain made it easy. A soft drumming, leaving fat droplets streaming down the windowpanes was such a soothing way to coast on the aftershocks of the best sex he’d had in years. Of course she was feistier than he usually liked. He wanted his women submissive, completely under his control in the bedroom. Marcella was one in the making. But it would take some conditioning. The kind of investment a man would make if she were to be his forever. Diego knew that this attraction between them couldn’t be pursued. It would do neither of them any good. Love was an illusion and he’d seen it destroy every man he ever cared about. He looked over at her. She was so petite curled up next to him, her presence tugged on emotions he refused to name. A delicate flower that he found it hard to stop thinking of. Turning over he studied her, lifting the sheet to look at her. She had small hands and feet, but slender shapely legs and arms. Marcella rested in such a peaceful sleep he almost didn’t want to disturb her. He moved her tangles out of the way to see her face clearly. His erection had already risen. What if he could never get enough of her? He shoved the disturbing thought aside. Of course he could, his ego and pride whispered back. Still he burned with indecision at the center of his chest.

Marcella had passed the first test. The way she rejected his sexual pass at her, had left him intrigued. He spent a week in boring meetings listening to Lance talk over business while they met with frightened storeowners that once spit upon his family name. Now they feared him, as they should.  

He had no time for romance.

But he desired her still.

The bed shifted. Had he woken her? She lifted her face and smiled to the point of dimples forming in her cheeks. Diego fell over on his back. He gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him. Her fragrant poufy hair fell over into her face as she braced her hands on either side of his head then gave him another sweet smile that made the bastard in him want to behave.

Those full lips of hers, even white teeth, the lift of her high cheekbones, and that skin a bronzed deep shade of brown, was making him crazy with need. She sat up straddling him. Moist warmth covered his cock as she sat on it. He fumbled for the other condom packet, finding it as she moved on top of him, making him crazy. Allowing her to take command would be dangerous considering how badly he wanted to be fucked by her, so he flipped her over and sheathed his cock while holding her down, regaining domination over her. She hooked her leg around his waist without a word of complaint. His mouth covered hers, his tongue pushed in as he settled between her thighs. Gripping her buttocks he thrust into her, making her take all of him. She was so tight. So unbelievably tight considering he had just made love to her hours before. So tight, and so hot was her channel that he could feel the rapid beats of her heart in her pussy as it clenched around him.

Diego gritted his teeth, struggled to hold on to the last thin thread of restraint. He pumped his hips violently, hearing her gasping sobs once he forced her to the next orgasm within a frenzied rush. Then his control shattered, and his own climax gripped him by the throat throwing his body into seizures that left him a whimpering shivering mess on top of her.

Something was different this time. Marcella felt it. Diego wasn’t as open to her as he had been. He even fought against the tide of pleasure washing over them. She gripped his broad shoulders and rolled her hips hoping to draw him back in. He dropped on her and buried his face into her neck. Her breath stuttered out in ragged gasps. The aftermath of the earth-shattering climax swept through her blood like a brush fire.

Diego moved off her. He dropped over to his back with his arm going over his eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. Something felt wrong.

“
Are you okay?”

“
Hungry? I will fix something for you.”

“
I can help.” Marcella said about to rise.

“
No.” he answered. She frowned. He softened putting on his underwear. “Let me. I want to cook for you.” He walked away from the bed to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom, flushed, and left the room without a backward glance, as if he couldn’t get away from her soon enough. Marcella moved out of the wet spot and curled up under the sheet. Her body was wrecked. His lovemaking had turned her limbs to jelly. She didn’t have the energy to find out why he bristled when things were good between them. He had to loosen up. She yawned, the question repeating in her mind as she drifted down into a restful sleep.

 
When she woke from her brief nap, she inhaled the most decadent fragrance of fried eggs. He sat on the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes to see them on a plate with a slice of cheese and an addition of sour cream and salsa.

“
What is this? It’s not even eight o’clock yet?”

“
You didn’t have much to choose from.” He gave her a shy smile. “Open.”

She smiled and accepted forkfuls of food until she was full. Then she lie back chewing, swallowing, feeling more at home with him than she could imagine.

“
I must leave.”

“
Now?”

“
Can I use your shower?”

“
Of course you can.”

Diego set the plate to the side nightstand. He seemed more relaxed now, less agitated than before. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, hesitated for a moment as if he would say more, then went to shower. Marcella sat up. She looked over to the plate of half eaten eggs, and then to the sheets tangled next to her. She rose and stripped her blankets from the mattress, and drew open the curtains and windows to let in the fresh, after the rain, air. Marcella started a new load of wash, and tried to brush her hair into a tamed ponytail to fix her appearance. She was glad she did. When the bathroom door opened he stepped out dressed. Hair slicked back, suit a bit rumpled and damp on his large frame.