I gulped him down, but it was more than I thought possible and some spilled over my chin. He stroked his cock slowly as it settled between his legs, as spent as I was.
As he walked away, I fell forward onto my palms, reorienting myself. It was oddly satisfying to work and be worked and to feel the result dripping down my throat and over my chin. Not once in my life had I ever been handled so ruthlessly, with such fervor, or been broken down and so relentlessly stripped bare.
“You’re sufficiently ruined for one night,” he said from somewhere in the dark, my thoughts apparently running through his mind as well.
I looked up. He was wholly naked now, his cock hanging between his legs, his thigh muscles working as he approached me barefoot and with a damp towel in his hand.
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” I asked hoarsely.
“For longer than I care to admit,” he said. “I suspect you won’t admit you wanted it, too.”
I couldn’t, not in that moment, but I wouldn’t deny it, either. I reached for the towel, but he took my elbow and helped me up. He put his knuckle under my jaw to raise my head and look me in the eye as he smoothed the warm, damp towel over my chin. “You will learn to swallow every last drop,” he said gently. “But I must say. You were increíble.”
I smiled, then turned red, embarrassed by how good his praise felt. “You’re only saying that so I’ll do it again.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s the truth.” His eyes scanned my face and landed on my lips. When he bent his head, I was tempted to lean in and meet him.
But that was enough to make me angle away.
A kiss was a different kind of submission. It was one thing to let myself enjoy how he handled my body, but my heart couldn’t take the same beating.
Cristiano didn’t move, hovering near my cheek. “Still no kiss?”
“I can’t really stop you.”
“As I’ve said, there’s no joy in that for me. You were incredible just now because you wanted this as much as I did.” His hot breath warmed my cheek, and he spoke with a thread of desperation. “Tell me why you won’t kiss me.”
“It should be obvious. Sex is sex, but a kiss is more.”
“We haven’t had sex.”
“But we will. And you’ll know exactly how to make me enjoy it. But that’s my body, nothing more.”
He turned my face back to his as he wet his full lips. He was a good kisser. He’d managed to draw me in for a few seconds amidst the horrors of our wedding day. He’d nearly convinced me on our wedding night that I wanted him. He cast a spell with his kiss, and I couldn’t afford to stray from reality.
“You’re wrong,” he said, sounding almost amused. “This goes far beyond your body. You need things, and I can give them to you. I want to give them to you.”
“Why?” I whispered.
He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. “Someday soon, maybe when you least expect it, I will repay what you did for me tonight.”
“How?” I asked. “I have nothing down there to jam down your throat.”
He smirked. “And gracias a Dios for that.”
“Speak for yourself. I should like to see you suffer for my orgasm.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “I imagine I will.” He touched his lips to the other corner of mine. “You took my cock like a champ. In return, I’ll eat you like my life depends on it, and believe me, I value my life.”
Oh my God. I was frustratingly aware of the throb between my legs. It had started in his office and hadn’t subsided since.
“Unless you’d like to collect on my debt now?” he asked. “Just ask.”
To be relieved of that ache was almost too good to pass up. Accepting his advances, or even submitting to them, was one thing. Asking for something felt wrong, though. I shook my head and forced myself to turn away before I changed my mind.
He took my elbow and pulled me back. “Kiss me once,” he said. “In exchange, I won’t lay so much as a finger on you for a while, not even if the kiss tempts you to more.”
Disappointment at the loss of him struck me first followed quickly by horror. I didn’t want to miss his touch or wander down that path. To cover up that confusing feeling, I quickly agreed. “Deal.”
“I’ll pretend you said that with a little less vigor.” He frowned. “Would you like to think on it a moment?”
“No. How long is a while?”
“Days. Maybe even weeks, if I’m unlucky.”
Weeks? He seemed to both keep his hands to himself and touch me non-stop. “And you won’t touch me at all?”