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There was some rustling in the ensuite bathroom—cupboards and drawers being opened, the tap running—and when Adrien reappeared, he was cradling an armful of stuff. He climbed back into bed, positioning himself behind me again.
“Does this hurt?” The tips of his fingers grazed the cheek he'd spanked, gentle and soothing.
I swallowed, a shiver tickling at the base of my spine in response to the little touch. What the hell had this man done to me?
“Not really,” I mumbled. “Why? Did you leave a mark?”
“Kind of. It's a little red,” his voice was back to a charred, almost pained tone. His fingers moved down, sliding to my center again. “And I'm spilling out of your pussy. It's the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen, Sanchez.”
I shuddered, a sigh escaping as my stomach began to quiver all over again. But before I could do something stupid, like curl my ass up toward him like a feline in heat, he began to caress the inside of my thighs with a warm wet towel.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to twist my head to look at him.
“Just relax.”
I frowned skeptically but lay my head back down as he continued to delicately swipe away the slickness on my skin. He took his time, treating my body with the slow gentleness you'd use to handle a newborn kitten. Once he was done, he picked up a small jar of something that smelled like lavender and began to work it into the cheek he'd spanked.
“What’s that?” I mumbled, eyes half-mast. This was so nice and relaxing.
“Skin soothing cream.”
“You don't have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted quietly.
I sighed with pleasure, closing my eyes. After a few silent minutes, I smirked into the dark and muttered, “Hey, remember when you said you wouldn't touch me with a level A hazmat suit on?”
And that was what got us back onto the uncontrollable laughing track.
32
I woke up in heaven.Sore and satiated, with a naked Adrien pressed to my back, trailing soft kisses along my shoulder and neck.
A hum rolled out of my throat when his teeth got involved, my back curling against him. He was hard and ready, and the moment I felt it, my body melted into a puddle of needy lust. Again.
I was broken. We'd had sex two more times last night, and I was still hungry for more. After he'd cleaned me up, I'd sat on his lap, kissed and thanked him for being sweet and taking care of me. One compliment led to another, and the next thing I knew, my wrists were tied behind my back as he sunk me down on his cock, murmuring filthy, brutishly possessive things in my ear as I rode him. He'd said the types of things that appealed strictly to my lizard brain, and that I'd only allow in bed. The types of things I'd replay in my head over and over again every time I reached for the purple vibrator in my bedside drawer at home.
I'd told him so afterward, which was what had led to the third round.
“Show me, baby. Show me how you'll touch yourself, thinking about me,” he'd demanded.
Four minutes later, he'd had my slick-covered fingers pinned to the mattress, one of my knees hooked over his shoulder, and was growling angrily about “losing his mind” over me as he pounded into my “perfect little pussy,” punishing it for being so “tempting and pretty.” The declaration had been followed by more brutish and possessive dirty talk.
Three times in one night should have been more than enough. I shouldn't have wanted more so soon.
“Good morning,” he hummed, arms tightening around me. “How did you sleep?”
“It's only been four hours,” I complained, stuffing my face into the fluffy white pillow.
He was already lifting the hem of my slip. “You want me to stop?”
“Mmm,” I responded, grinding my ass against his steel length.
He hissed, fingers digging into my hips. “Use your words, Ria.”
“Don't stop,” I sighed, already feeling the ache and dampness building between my thighs. “But go slow, please. I'm sore.”
He got me off with his fingers first, making me arch and gasp and shudder against him before he slowly entered me from behind, whispering a smooth string of desperate praises in my ear while he fucked me.
