Come What May

“Please, Mateo, fuck.” He reaches between us to finger my clit, rubbing it in perfect time with his powerful thrusts.

When the first wave hits, I claw at his sweat-slicked back, crying out his name as the orgasm rips through my body.

He reaches down and hikes my right leg over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit a spot deep within me, which only intensifies the tremors still running through me.

“Mariposita,” he howls, sounding feral with need. His rhythm falters, and a few unsteady thrusts later, he stills over me, his warm release filling me.

He releases my leg and presses his forehead to mine. He drags precious air into his lungs as our heartbeats slow to a normal level.

“That was…” I can’t even finish my sentence because there are no words to describe what we just shared.

“Perfect.” Mateo brushes my hair away, giving him an unobstructed view of the smile permanently etched on my face. “It was perfect.”