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“So wet. Dita… There’s a fucking goddess inside you, isn’t there?”
It wasn’t a question, really, more like a statement.
Prude. Yeah, right.
She hummed, seeking my mouth, wanting to claim it with an endless fight inside her. “What does that make you then?”
“D—” I zoned out for a split second, an invasion of her musky scent entering my nostrils after I pushed her underwear aside, “You know the meaning behind my name?”
She shook her head, the moonlight catching the gold in her brown almond-shaped eyes.
“Here’s an idea.” My middle finger dipped inside, her gasp matching mine when I intruded her.
There was no resistance. Her slickness was carved out for me like it was meant to be.
“Ares, you shouldn’t do this,” Dita said, but her breathing stuttered, and her eyelids fluttered, struggling to keep up with the defiance. “Oh my god.”
It sounded silly. It probably was. But it was the first time in my life that I had no argument other then, “But this just feels so good,” I murmured to myself. “Every inch of you is going to be worthless without me when I’m finished with you.”
“Big words for a—ah!”
“Big boy?” I surprised her by adding another finger, pumping it in and out while my thumb circled her clit. “This is nothing compared to my dick, Dita.”
“Or your sparkling personality?” She whimpered when I curled my fingers, the attitude lost once again.
I humorlessly laughed, feeling my stomach muscles tighten with the thought of being inside her, stripping her from the person she was.
My hand was going numb. Her nails dug into my skin. Her heels dug painfully into my ass, but nothing compared to the uncomfortableness that was denying myself.She felt it too. She wanted this.
“Ares,” she addressed me resolutely, and I shuddered. “More.”
She met my strokes. She craned her neck, accessing me to her smooth, spicy Cuban skin. Her walls contracted around my fingers, warning me she was close.
I pulled back, smiling down upon her while I smeared her own moisture onto her lips. She bucked her hips, frustration etching her eyes.
“Why did you stop?” She asked, licking the tips of my fingers.
“Sweet, sweet Dita.” I wrapped my own lips around her essence. “Mm, so sweet. Like coconut and…surrender.”
She mewled in frustration and lifted her head, angrily whispering against my lips, “Never!”
I sniffed. “You think you played me, don’t you?” I promised her war when I looked into her eyes. “But I felt your erratic heartbeat. How the walls of your pussy sucked me in. And even if the darkness shielded most of your expression, I know exactly the way you looked at me.”
“Fuck you!” She spat in my face before dropping her head back onto the pillow.
“Yes, Dita. Give it to me.” My smile grew while my sugar-coated hand moved to her throat. “Your hatred is my fuel.”
“Then why don’t you use me? Huh? I’m at your mercy.” Dita provoked. It was no use.
“Because,” I slid my hands into hers, weaving our fingers and bent down so our noses touched, “I won’t use you if you want it, D.”
“I don’t—”
I cut her off, “You’re delusional if you’re going to deny that.”
“I’m not denying anything! Get out of my room, or I’ll scream!”
“Sure. Be my guest. Let’s see who’s going to rescue you.”
