He didn't let her come right away, building her orgasm and then easing her down until she was writhing, desperate.
And that was why she needed to keep her hard limits in place, especially with him. There were two musts in her sex life: she needed space, and she needed control. Even while giving her space, he was the one with all the control.
She exploded in his mouth, screaming and lifting her hips, trying to get him deeper. Begging for more. Which he gladly gave. Several times as a matter of fact, never mind his dick was so hard, it must had been about to fall to pieces.
Good, let him suffer. Then it dawned on her: while she was raw and exposed, orgasming left and right, the guy continued in control.
Forcing her limbs to move, she turned around, going on her knees, and after handing him a condom, she braced on the headboard. "Put that cock of yours to good use."
"Leaking like a motherfucker, Goth girl. I get in that sweet pussy of yours, swollen and burning hot as it is from spilling in my mouth, I guarantee the ride is going to be rough. And you were angry."
She looked to him. "I am still angry. But angry sex is the best sex, remember?"
Gripping her hips, he rammed into her, her inner muscles clamping around him, reacting to the sudden invasion. She stifled a moan of pleasure, relishing his snarl. Lifting her torso, she grabbed his thighs and leaned back on him, placing her head on his shoulder. Her smell was all over him. She loved it. "You know what's the downside of eating my pussy and making me come repeatedly?"
He groaned again as she squeezed his throbbing cock and sank her nails in his ass. "No downside to it."
"It's going to take a while until you can send me over again. Be as rough as you want, Escobar, but you are not allowed to climax until I do. Are we clear?"
"Clear," he said, biting her shoulder and then soothing the spot with his tongue. "I'm here to serve."
And boy did he deliver. In spades. Working her pussy ruthlessly, full frontal assault, until she dissolved in a powerful orgasm that all but floored her. And him, if the way he roared and let himself go was any indication.
"Nico?" she said afterward, all disheveled and sweaty, lying in bed with Nico by her side, both still winded from their release.
"Yes, Goth girl?"
"You may continue taking that kind of liberty in the future."
"Which one?" he asked, turning to her. "Eating your pussy or nailing you from behind?"
She pondered. "Both."
He chuckled. Kissed her forehead. "So I am allowed to come back?"
His meek expression didn't fool her for a second; the bastard believed he could defuse her anger by keeping her in a sex-induced coma.
The bastard was right.
"Yes, you are allowed to come back. With or without liberties." She rolled over to face him. There was a point she had to drive home. "I don't want to be managed, Nico. I don't want lies. Or omission of the truth, or whatever you want to call it. You need to be upfront with me. Always. Do you understand me?" It was already bad enough that she had to keep their involvement secret from everyone she knew. She couldn't cope with any lies from him on top of that. Too many red flags.
He nodded. "I hear you."
Close enough. She leaned back on his chest. "You have to leave right away?"
Nico gathered her in his arms, and after throwing a blanket over them, spoke against her hair. "Yes, but not just yet. Sleep. I'll watch over you."
Totally exhausted and limp like an overcooked noodle, Paige drifted to sleep.
* * * *
The light coming from the window woke Paige up.
When she'd fallen asleep, Nico had been by her side. Now she was alone.
She heard the lock on the front door turn, and then a very unladylike curse.
Ramona.
A long string of colorful swear words later, and without knocking, she burst into Paige's room. "Girlfriend, either you finally had sex-wild sex-or we've been robbed. The living room is a mess."
"Ummm, about that-"
"Sex," Ramona decided.
"How did you-"
"Written on your face, honey." Then she winked. "That condom over there might have helped a bit too. Oh, and this," she added, lifting the bottle of Krug Clos. "Kind of crappy robbers to leave behind the most expensive item in the whole place."
"Sorry about the living room. We got carried away," she apologized, red as a frigging tomato if the burning in her ears was anything to go by.
"Where is the lucky guy?"
"Gone, I think."
"Good. Nothing worse than a clueless dude who doesn't realize when he's overstayed his welcome, right?"
"Right," Paige mumbled, not that convinced.
As she got up, she noticed her phone on the nightstand was blinking.