Her blood was rivers of fire burning through her veins. And that ache Carlos so expertly satisfied earlier had returned with a vengeance. Although she would not have thought it possible, she was hungrier for him now, hurting more for him now, than she had been before they started. And she figured that was because now she knew exactly what sort of pleasure he could give her.
“Lay back, Abby. Spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice barely above a growl. “I’m going to make love to you now.”
“Yes,” she whispered, doing as he instructed, laying back on the mat and spreading her legs so he could kneel between them. The tan skin on his flanks looked so dark in contrast to the paleness of her thighs. “Yes, Carlos,” she said again when he leaned forward to brace his hands beside her shoulders.
He drank his name from her lips with a kiss, his tongue plunging deep, stroking forcefully. Then he stilled, pulling back.
“What?” she breathed, lifting her head to nip his jaw. With her ankles hooked behind his knees, she could slide her slick channel up and down the hot, raging length of him. And his plump head felt wonderful against her swollen clit. “What is it?” she managed, even though talking, thinking, was difficult when she was so close to orgasm.
“I don’t have a condom,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”
“No.” She pulled his mouth back to hers. “But the timing is okay. We should be fine.” And even though she knew it was a stupid risk to take despite the fact that she was pretty sure what she’d told him was true—she wasn’t in the fertile phase of her cycle—she couldn’t make herself care. And, yes, that was everyone’s favorite excuse for not using birth control, wasn’t it? And, yes, she was now the official poster child for irresponsibility. But right now she didn’t give a rat’s ass that she was a cliché or that the repercussions of her decision could be disastrous. Right now she just…wanted.
“If you’re sure?” he said between hot, hungry kisses. She could feel his urgency, his hunger as if it were her own. He needed this as much as she did.
“I’m sure,” she breathed against his lips. And this time, she was the one to make the demand. “Put your cock in me.”
He hesitated a second more, seeming to war with himself. Then something inside him broke. With a curse, he reached down to grab the base of his erection, angling it toward her opening. And even though she was so wet and ready for him, the fact remained, he was big. And the head of him stretched her, straining the capacity of her flesh.
She didn’t care. Planting her feet flat on the mat, she thrust her hips up at him, sending his shaft a few inches inside her. It was bliss! And at the same time, not nearly enough. She growled her frustration.
“Slow. Go slow, Abby,” he told her gruffly before reclaiming her lips. His tongue delved and retreated inside her mouth with the same rhythm his hardness slid and stroked into her body. It took a few tries, a couple of forceful glides and retreats before he finally seated himself to the hilt.
Then, dear God, she was so completely full of him. His girth stretched her inner walls to their limits, and she would swear she could feel his heartbeat in the hard, steady pulse of his shaft.
“You okay?” he asked against her mouth, his breath sawing from his lungs into hers.
“God, yes,” she managed, amazed she was able to speak when she was absolutely overcome with aching, sexual sensation, poised right on the brink.
He ducked his chin then, glancing down to the place where their two bodies joined.
“Jesús Cristo,” he breathed. “Look at us, Abby.”
She lifted her head and saw his neatly trimmed, jet-black pubic hair in harsh contrast to her sandy blond curls. The deep flush of his penis, his tan skin stretched tight and shining with her essence, was in stark opposition to the pink of her most intimate flesh.
“We’re beautiful together,” he husked.
“We are.” She smiled, letting her head drop back to the mat. So beautiful.
And with that, with those two words, he began to move. Slowly at first. So infinitely slowly, his shaft rubbing deliciously along screaming, aching nerve endings. Then, as her womb pulsed, as she clawed his back, he picked up the pace. His hips pistoning as he strained toward his own release.
She bucked against him, with him, matching his thrusts. And she rose up, up, up. Reaching. Climbing. Until…climax. It burst through her like an atom bomb.
“Yes, Abby!” he bellowed. “Yes, neña! Take me with you!”
And even through the head-spinning, pulse-pounding rapture of her own orgasm, she was able to squeeze her inner muscles around him. It drove her own pleasure up a notch and, at the same time, milked Carlos’s release from him. She felt the hot rush of his seed fill her when he threw his head back, crying her name.