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“You,” I pant.
“Not good enough.” He releases me suddenly, like he did the night outside my room, leaving me panting and cold.
I cry out in frustration that he’s making me spell it out. “I want you.”
“You want me to what? It’s not that hard, Sonia. I can tell you exactly whatIwant. I want to lick every part of you—your tits, your pussy, your ass. I want to feel your sweet clit in my mouth and against the head of my dick. I want to know what you taste like when you come and what you look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”
“Take your towel off!” I blurt. “That’s what I want. I want to see you.”
With a flick of his hand, he drops the towel and my racing heart nearly stops when I glance down. He’s huge. Much more so than Diego. And I thank my lucky stars he’s not my first, or I might have run.
“Are you a virgin?” he asks with a slight frown.
I swallow down the panic and lust and excitement in order to speak. “Would you be gentler with me if I said yes?”
“No.”
“I’m not a virgin. But the guy I’ve been with isn’t as…” I search for the right word and he smiles.
“Gifted?”
Ignoring what he’s said, I chew on my lower lip. “So whatever I ask for, you’ll give?”
“My body is yours to command,princesa.”
“What if I can’t take you?”
Arching a brow, he glances over me. “Something tells me you can do anything you set your mind to. Even take my dick.”
“Get on the bed.” I point in that direction.
He does as I ask. “You could say please.”
“I could,” I say, moving to him. “On your back.”
Rolling over, he watches me as I approach, his eyes dark and intense in spite of his grin. My legs touch the mattress and I begin to tremble, as nervous as if I was about to mount a horse I’ve never ridden before. It’s exactly that, I suppose. He’s something wild and untamed and just as powerfully built.
I swallow down any trepidation I might have as I climb onto the bed and straddle him, making sure to keep a few inches between me and his dick.
“Pull down my shirt,” I instruct.
He brings his hands to my shoulders and hooks his thumbs through the straps. Then, slowly, as if he’s unveiling some gift, he tugs them down over my breasts until my shirt hangs around my midsection.
There’s something about the way he looks at them—hungrily—that has desire burning in my core. He tenses beneath me, as if he’s fighting the urge to touch, and I realize he’s waiting for me to ask. Damn him! He was right. This is fucking torture. It’s the illusion that I’m in control by telling him what to do, but in reality, he’s got the upper hand by making me ask.
“I want your mouth on my nipples,” I say almost desperately.
“Then bring them to my lips.”
I bend over him, dipping my right breast into his open mouth. He latches on, sucking, nipping, drawing circles around my nipple. At the same time, he grasps my hips, holding them firmly while he presses his cock right over my sex. My eyes roll back as I moan in pleasure from the double attack on my senses, and I begin to rock over him, needing more.
“Oh God!” I cry out when he moves to my other nipple, lavishing just as much attention on it.
“Are you wet, Sonia?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Wet enough to take me in your sweet cunt?” he asks between nips.
