I sit on his face at one point while taking him into my mouth again, but that doesn’t last long, and he jolts from under me, wraps his arm around me, and makes me sit on my knees, facing the wall, my hands on the headboard.
Grabbing my hair and tilting my butt up, he slides his long hard shaft between my walls. And this is the end of me.
Rocking his hips, he thrusts into me until my nails draw maps on the wall.
He moves fast, giving it to me hard until we both come. Two wild creatures riding the crest of pleasure at the same time. His damp chest lining my sweaty back.
We’ve made a mess.
And the night just got started.
* * *
RAVEN
We leavethe apartment minutes later. Both smelling like sex, my perfume, and his cologne.
Our clothes are in great shape, amazingly so, considering the mistreatment they have suffered. But everything else can easily give us away.
We’re both flushed. Our hair is damp.
The little makeup I have on barely hides my red cheeks and watery eyes.
Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze.
We can’t stop kissing. That’s why I didn’t bother putting on lipstick, although I have everything I need to retouch my makeup in the small evening bag I’ve taken with me.
I’ve learned my lesson. I have my wallet, phone, key card, eyeliner, mascara, perfume, and red lipstick with me.
We enter the elevator. We kiss. We walk out of the hotel, his arms draped around me. And we kiss again.
We no longer climb into his sports car. A limousine is waiting for us, and the driver greets us, holding the door for us.
We tuck ourselves in the back of the limo and kiss again.
We actually do more than that, his hand resting between my thighs and mine slipping to his fly several times. Especially when we kiss again––at a slower pace now, mind you––mirroring the rhythm of my strokes over his bulge.
I have no idea where we’re going, but I guess he knows.
I also don’t know what time it is. It must be late. They must’ve had dinner. And we’re not going to the restaurant.
Francisco said something about a party. Or was it a dinner party? I’m confused, and it doesn’t matter.
It’s all details at his point, and I can’t keep up with it. I can only focus on him.
The Devil knows.
I see it in his crooked smile, the way he adjusts his package and licks my lower lip before sliding his tongue into my mouth.
He loves how I react to him. Line his chest with my breasts and curve my back to make my rear more luscious and enticing.
He reads my body like an expert, while I like to talk a lot with him that way.
His eyes glint with unconcealed contentment as I struggle to regain focus.
It finally dawns on me that I need to pull myself together and put my best face forward.
We still have to socialize and pretend we are part of a group this evening.