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“What is it,Stellina?” I shove him toward the bed, and he stands there, watching me.
“Stop talking,” I murmur before I step back, yanking my blouse from where my waistband anchors it. He watches with hooded eyes, leaning back against the footboard of the bed as I step out of my heels.
I note the way his brows rise at the sight of one of the heels tipping over to reveal its red bottom.
Yes, I’m a whole different bitch.
Maybe it’s the vengeance fueling me. Maybe it’s the men I’ve learned from in the years since he’s known my body. Maybe it’s familiarity of his desire; a feeling I couldn’t forget no matter how hard I tried.
I want to be in control. I need to be.
But,God, I’ll lose control if he keeps talking to me.
“Get on the bed,” I instruct, my fingers dancing over his chest before I push at his unyielding frame. But he relinquishes control, sitting on the bed before leaning back, his elbows hitting the mattress.
I hike up my skirt, pulling at my panties, loving the way his gaze follows them down to the floor.
I pick up the scrap of red and place it on the bed beside him before unbuttoning my blouse and letting the silk fall to the floor, kicking it to the side.
“You’re exquisite,” he starts, but I shake my head, approaching the bed and placing my index finger over his lips.
“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to keep your mouth occupied.” His lips part as my finger slides down before entering his mouth. His tongue swirls around it and I bite at my bottom lip, placing one knee on the bed. He reaches up, his hands settling on my hips to pull me down flush against him.
When I remove my finger from his mouth, I use my other hand to push him flat against the bed. He places his hands over his head, and I start hiking my skirt up again, loving the feeling of my bare sex against the fabric of his pants.
Before I can second guess my sexual prowess, I’m dragging my body up his. His eyes, alight with realization, shimmer with excitement as he helps me up. His hands slide up my bare thighs and I hitch over my next breath as he sweeps his fingertips over me.
I can barely think before he’s gripping me tighter and yanking me toward him, so his mouth meets my pussy. One lick, two, slow strokes before he begins eating me mercilessly.
It’s so electric, so shocking, I grip his hair and toss my head back.
I ride his face with wild abandon toward my inevitable orgasm. When one of his hands slips up, toward my ass, I grip his face tighter between my thighs.
He presses his thumb against me, and I lean forward, bracing the headboard as I cry out in a primal ecstasy that I could never achieve with anyone else.
I fall into the abyss of my orgasm and cry out, unable to catch my breath.
After a moment, I realize that if I don’t move, I’ll likely smother him. I sit back on his chest, watching his glossy grin.
“I could taste you every day,Stellina,” he says before licking his lips as if he can’t get enough of my flavor. And I close my eyes at the promising tone of his words, hating how he can so easily make words sound so meaningful. Even when I know he’s full of shit.
I grab my abandoned panties and shove them in his mouth.
“I told you to stop talking,” I huff out, pushing my hair away from my face.
Leave it to Abraham to take anything I give him without a moment’s hesitation.
“Shut up and fuck me,” I whisper, emboldened by his silence. He doesn’t say anything as he flips me over and yanks my skirt up.
He smacks my ass just as he enters me, gripping the back of my bra and I cry out when it snaps against me just as he enters me again.
As my body moves with each thrust, the ruined lace slides down my arms and his hands have moved to my hips, creating a punishing rhythm.
It’s like he’s trying to fuck any other sexual experience from my body.
Trying to fuck himself into my soul.
Trying to make sure I never forget him. Or forget fucking him.
