When We Dance

He knows.

“You like to be double penetrated. You like two dicks in you, cariño.”

I open my eyes.

“You fucking do. I’ll fuck you with him again. And I’ll fuck your butt. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And this is it.

The images swirl in my head, his words and voice and touch giving me the final nudge.

I come hard, panting and growling out my pleasure when he pushes his fingers deep into me, my body slamming against his frame, moving on its own accord.

His hand flies to his belt and snaps it open, freeing my wrists, my arms falling limp, restoring their normal position.

They’re numb and tingling before I regain control over them and loop them around him.

That’s when his fingers leave my body, and his arm snakes around me, and we roll with each other, clashing. Literally clashing. Like two mad people. Lips connecting in a hurry. My hands going to his neck and his hair.

His fist locking around his erection before pushing it deep into me. His hips moving while I feel him in my deepest depths.

That’s what I wanted. We fight, we kiss, we roll, connected. His hard meat filing my core.

We don’t stop. I’m frantic, slamming against him, still riding the aftershocks of my orgasm.

I can’t have enough of him.

And he finally pins me under him and plunges into me to break my bones. And I scratch his chest and neck and back. And bite his lip. And I don’t know how that will work.

I’m seemingly not very good at keeping a secret. Good luck explaining the bloody marks on his chest. He looks like he’s fallen into a pile of broken glass.

He’ll find a way.

We go at each other, so fucking famished, not caring about the time, the place, the marks, the consequences.

I roll on top of him and ride him for a few good moments before he pulls me back to him to have my mouth and fuck me at the same time.

I’m so hot, sweaty, and impossible to stop I can’t break away from him. I can’t think straight. I can’t breathe. I just want him. And he’s giving it to me, knowing full well he’s made me like this.

He likes it. Loves it. Needs it. And that’s why he was so upset and had such a hard time suppressing his raw instinct.

I love his primal instinct. It drives me wild, disconnecting me from the real world.

It’s pure, obsessive sex with a lot of brain behind it. And I anticipate a lot of problems because of it.

“Woman…” he growls, thrusting deep into me while holding me in his arms.

The headboard slams into the wall with unimaginable urgency. And I hope… I simply hope people are asleep in this fancy hotel.

I’m so wired up that my core is dripping, and my body is stiff with tension. And he just drives his hard cock into me, refusing to grant me a reprieve.

“Alejandro…” I whisper, walking that fine edge before climaxing.

I linger there for a few moments while he speeds up, chasing his own relief, and no matter how hard he fucks me, I still smile, covered in sweat, my lips trembling, my eyes heavy, glued to his face.

He zones out too, his eyes going blank, gripped by pleasure… Yet even so… He has something for me. A faint smile. A conquering grin. A fleeting emotion. He likes that he has me and yet doesn’t have me.

With him, things will get even more complicated than I thought.