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I slapped her again. Another cry erupted.
“Ares,” she warned through another moan.
“What? Tell me.”
“If you do that one more time.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Then—”
“Then what? Don’t come up with empty threats while we’re fucking a hole in this damn carpet.”
“You call this fucking?”
“What else do you call this?”
She had no idea her sassiness made me a monster. I hauled her hips up and arched upon my knees. I licked my lips when she followed my body’s lead, lifting her ass up until I could practically stand. Now I was going to fuck her deeper than she’d ever felt anyone.
Furiously, I pounded into her, dipping my dick into her cunt while she lay upside down.
I told her some rules had changed.
Slapping her once more, her body spasmed with a violent climax.
Dita screamed.
She gushed all over me. The pulsation of her pussy made me fill her up to the brim, spilling so much it dripped onto her ass crack.
Both coming down slowly, I leaned back over her with unsteady muscles. Everything in me shook with pleasure. My chest vibrated with something else then post-coital satisfaction.
Bringing us both into a more comfortable position, I braced myself over her, my elbows next to her head and my lips inches from hers. It was awfully sweet and not how I imagined us ever to connect. But she looked so neatly fucked. It made me a pathetic heap of a human.
“I didn’t use a condom,” I admitted, surprised I’d forgotten about it. I never did. And I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I should’ve either.
All smiles, she sweetly brushed my jaw while she pushed her heels into my ass. “I’m on the pill.”
“I should’ve been more careful either way.” I kissed the sweat away from her upper lip like a secret lover. Which, in a way, I was.
“I think we were both a little too excited.” She pulled me closer. “Because that was…”
I popped a brow in expectation. “That was?”
She kissed my lips and settled her head onto the pillow I’d snuck underneath. She focused on my eyes, making me uncomfortable because this was way too intimate. Especially with my softening dick still inside her.
“That was what, Dita?” I trailed a line of kisses onto her breastbone.
“Nice.”
I dropped my head on top of her sternum and murmured, “Nice. Only you would describe some kind of rage-fucking nice.”
27
DITA
His presence was near. I felt it before I even turned around Only, his hair wasn’t slicked back, and his signature smirk was plastered on his face.
“You’re up early.” I leaned against the counter and sipped the freshly brewed Colombian grind. “I thought it was Rio.”
He said nothing. Just shrugged and left his hands in his pockets as he examined me, from top to bottom.
His presence normally felt dominant, overpowering. Today, he seemed to be slacking in that department. Or was it because he kept my pussy happy?
