Drug Lord

Before I could even think about what he was doing, he was pulling my whole body backwards every time that he thrust.

The feeling of being pulled back onto him was enough to push me right over the edge. I was shuddering beneath him when I heard him shout.

And then he was flooding me with his seed. I loved the warmth.

When he was done, he pulled out of me and turned me on my side. He came and spooned me from behind.

His large hand slowly made its way from my waist to the juncture of my thighs.

I waited breathlessly as he went straight for my clit again. The pleasure this time was nearly painful. The small orgasm in the aftermath of our passion exhausted me totally.

I fell asleep like that, held safely by Emilio as I slipped into dreamland.

Coffee

Naelle

When I woke up, I opened my eyes to see that Emilio was fully dressed. I could smell coffee.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

I turned to look at the window. It was still dark outside.

“What? Come back to bed.”

He came over and kissed me.

“As much as I would like to get tangled up with you again, you set a condition for your acceptance of my proposal. We’re going to fulfill it now.”

I sat up and his gaze immediately went to my breasts. I blushed and reached for a sheet to cover up. I guessed that if we were married, I’d have to get used to be being naked around him, but I wasn’t used to it at the moment.

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“We’re going back to America?”

“Yes. This is all of your luggage, right? You have your passport with you.”

“Of course.” I didn’t go anywhere without it.

“Then we can get going.”

“I’m sticky,” I protested. “And I have to get dressed.” And I should probably tame my hair, if I wanted to go out in public.

“I’ll wash you,” he said, his eyes blazing. Without warning, he pulled me out of bed, one arm beneath my knees and the other under my back.

I squealed as he brought me into the bathroom. He slipped me into the tub and turned on the water. After he put a bunch of soap on a loofah, he began drawing big soapy circles on me. I wondered if he had ever washed anybody else before, because he didn’t seem to be very experienced at it. He was only washing part of me.

“Be careful,” I warned. “You might get wet.”

He put the loofah down at the side. He took off his clothes as if they were rags and not ultra-expensive custom-made Savile Row couture.

“Not a problem,” he said smugly.

He climbed into the tub and reached for me. I slid into his arms in the soapy water and kissed him lightly.

He didn’t seem to be satisfied by the light brush of our lips. His hand was in my wet hair holding me in place as he ravished my mouth.

With a groan, he ripped our mouths apart.