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Gripping her ass, I pull her against me until I can feel the warmth of her cunt pressed against my cock through both our clothes. My lips crash back into hers, and I can still taste the hint of coffee on them. Pressing my tongue into her mouth, I slowly grind my hips against her warmth. Letting her feel every inch of me slide against her, a teasing taste of what I will be giving her.
I lazily stroke my cock, wanting to enjoy this moment.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her just enough to slide my boxer briefs down her thighs. They slide down her calves and over her feet to the floor, and I claw at the back of my shirt and pull it over my head before reclaiming her mouth.
Gripping the hemline of her shirt, I dip my fingers beneath it and slide my hands up her sides while pushing the shirt higher. Lucia raises her arms to help remove it, and I slide it up them while sucking one of her perfectly pert, pink nipples into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around it, she moans as I lay her back on the cool countertop.
Sucking hard on her nipple, I release it with a pop before leaving a trail of wet kisses down her stomach and through the tuft of dark hair of her cunt. Spreading her wide, I lick her from entrance to clit with a groan.
I can only imagine how fucking sweet her cunt must be. My strokes become heedful and precum drips from my tip at the mere thought of feasting between her thighs.
Her hips grind against my face, and her thighs tremble against my face as her clit throbs against my tongue. She comes undone against me, calling out my name.
“Rafael.” Lucia’s voice sounds all too real. “I’m sorr— Oh my god.”
I turn to find her standing in the gap of the door I had left open. Her eyes are wide and mouth agape as I stand before her, my cock in my hand with nothing but a sheet of glass between us. Her eyes trail down my wet body, and they hover on the length in my fist.
“I…I’m sorry,” she stutters, “We can…Later. I’ll go.”
“Stay.” My voice is deep and sounds more like a command than is intended request. I slide my fist over my shaft. “This is yours.”
“What?” Her voice is so soft it’s nearly a whisper.
“I’m hard as fuck for you, little lamb.” I continue to leisurely fist my cock. “I don’t need to touch you, but I want to be staring into those gorgeous fucking eyes of yours when I come.”
Lucia’s tits rise and fall beneath her T-shirt as she watches me stroke myself. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, but her eyes don’t leave my cock.
“Staying or going, little lamb?” A groan rumbles from my chest as I slightly pick up my tempo.
“S…staying.” She tentatively steps into the bathroom.
“Have a seat.” I tip my head toward the bathroom vanity. She takes a few steps into the bathroom and hoists herself onto the counter. Her knees fall wide, thrusting me back into standing between them in the kitchen.
Firmly wrapping my fist around the tip, I slide my length through the tight grip with a feral groan.
Pressing inside of her, she’s fucking perfection wrapped around my cock. Tight. Dripping with excitement. Fucking made to take me.
Leaning my palm on the glass of the shower, my grumbling heavy breaths continue to frost over the sheet as I stare into her eyes and fuck my hand.
Fully seated inside of her, I pull her up to me and claim her mouth as I vigorously thrust my cock into her. Her legs wrap around my waist, squeezing tightly, trying to pull me even deeper with every brutal thrust.
Lucia’s cheeks are rosy, and her breaths are equally as heavy as mine as she watches me fuck the hand I wish was her sweet cunt. She presses her hand between her thighs and cups her cunt.
“Don’t let me stop you, little lamb.” My tone is gravelly, and I fight spilling my load at the thought of watching her. “No matter what, I won’t leave this shower.”
She rubs over the briefs covering cunt, and suddenly, I have no interest in my kitchen fantasy.
seventeen
LUCIA
The comfort I feel around Rafael is surreal. Even with every other man in this world having taught me over and over that men can’t be trusted; I believe every word that comes from his mouth.
He won’t touch me until I let him.
Watching him stroke over his long, thick length has me aching to tend to the tingling sensation between my thighs. A fluttering sensation I am not used to and an urge I’m not able to fight, I find myself rubbing the heel of my palm over my pussy as I try desperately to grind my clit against it.
Lifting my shirt, I slip my hand beneath the waistband of the boxers and press it between my thighs. I am surprised to find myself wet—soaked actually—as I can’t remember the last time my body reacted like this. My fingers glide over my clit, and my thighs tremble from the touch.
