We fumbled like newborn deer learning how to use our legs for the first time through the door to the hotel room. My key card glared an angry, denying red twice before the lock finally gave in and we crashed forcefully into the first wall we could find, at last shut into a private, secure place where I could touch her without the threat of someone else’s eyes on the girl that was mine.
She’d gone from pure, saturating anger, seconds away from throttling me in that alley to a predatory feline, targeting all my weaknesses while she knew there was nothing I could do but grin and bear it. By the time we fell out of the car and into the elevator I was one good tug or hot mouth around my dick away from losing it.
That ended the second the door closed behind us. Her control was admonished, the pedestal kicked out from beneath her high-heeled feet. Shoving her to the wall with my hand around her neck, I kissed her with such a bruising force that our teeth clattered together and she cried out in pleasant shock.
“I hope you enjoyed that ride back where you thought you had the control here.” I leaned in close to her ear, making sure every last word touched her skin. “You got my cock so hard, baby. Now, you’re gonna take care of it.”
She instinctively wrapped her legs around my waist as I picked her up, carrying us the short distance to the bedroom Mateo and I were supposed to share. What a fucking joke that was.
“I’m so fucking mad at you,” she spoke though gritted teeth, kissing me nonetheless. My tongue got lost in her mouth, swirling around all that misplaced malice and attitude, fucking her with it, shoving it down her throat. Her legs tightened around my waist, little fingers cinching together at the back of my neck, still fighting the inevitable way I was going to undo every last inkling of her conviction.
“Good, stay fucking mad at me. Fight me. Hit me. Give me your worst, Ophelia. Give me every last thing like a punishment, because I’m going to be thorough, and I’m going to remind you why there will never be someone else.”
She lurched forward and bit my jaw so hard her teeth left jagged marks and all it did was turn me on more than I knew possible. I laughed through the short-lived pain, and then that laugh turned into a sound that started in my gut and rolled like thunder through my chest and onto her heaving body, vibrating against her.
“Fuck yes.” My eyes rolled closed briefly, like flipping a docile switch, giving me that last green light I needed to keep all my promises.
I unwound her fingers and pinned her wrists above her head in one quick, harsh movement. My hands enveloped her bones. She couldn’t break free if she used every ounce of her strength to do it.
“Bastard,” she murmured, sticking her chin up, watching me through the thin slits of her eyes. Her tongue dipped out and wet the pad of her bottom lip.
“Bastard,” I agreed. Her hips rolled against mine. “You want me to fuck you so badly you’re grinding your pussy on me like a little cat, Ophelia.” I crossed her wrists over one another, pressing them to the mattress with one of my hands and freeing up the other to slide down and cup right between her legs. “I’m going to pull your panties down and they’re gonna be all wet and ruined. Aren’t they?”
She tugged her lip into her mouth and ignored me as I traced the seam on her jeans from the top of her pussy to her ass.
“Because you like this so much,” I taunted. “You like being dominated. You like being owned, and played with, and fought over. You like that I’m jealous enough to pin you to this bed and shove my cock down your throat until you admit that you’re mine with pretty fucking tears streaking down your face. Right?”
“God, you talk a lot,” she quipped, still avoiding looking at me. Her face was flush and dewy, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out against her temples and in that small hollow of her throat.
“I’m done talking,” I decided. Her top was cinched together at the front with cheap, pliant clasps and I dug my fingers into the hem and ripped it open, corset tearing beneath my fingertips like pulling out stitches from skin. The second her taut, dark nipples were exposed to me I latched onto them, twisting and teething while her back arched beneath me.
Her dark jeans were painted on, so tight and firm against her flesh they drove me crazy all night and drove me even fucking crazier trying to get them down her legs. The button nipped my skin, the zipper fought me tooth to nail. I tugged and tugged, lifting her ass off the sheets and even giving it a frustrated, aggressive slap as she wriggled out of the denim attempting to help me.
I was sweating through my shirt by the time I wrung the damn things off her ankles and whipped them onto the floor, wasting no time wrenching her legs back open and shoving my face right into the damp, warm cotton covering her. I licked her over it, tasting the tang and salt and sweat, her perfect natural smell winding around my senses like vines. I loved the taste of cunt. There was nothing flowery to it, but I fucking loved Ophelia’s pussy like I loved crackling fire, apple pie, and the first sip of a cold one after a long day. She was a staple fucking sensory experience for me. The kind you find yourself nostalgic over on a random Tuesday afternoon.
My thumb hooked through her thong, pulling it aside so I could see that throbbing pink mess she’d made, and my fingers slid dutifully inside her like dipping them straight into candle wax. Her walls constricted like a pulse around them. “So wet and perfect. You’re too good to me, O.”
She sounded strangled, chewing on a string of moans as I fucked her with my hand and opened her up. I couldn’t help myself—I licked her alongside the glide of my fingers, twirling her swollen clit around my tongue, sucking on it until she started to whine and the desperation in her voice made my cock feel like it was caged.
I rubbed something ridged and shallow inside her and her whole body pulled taut.
“Right there?”
“Yes.” She gasped out a confirmation that turned my grin wolfish.
Ruin her. Ruin her, so no one else can even come close.
“Remind me who makes you fucking come,” I said sternly, lifting my head just enough to watch her answer me between jagged breaths.
“You do.”
“No one else.”
Her head rocked lazily back and forth against the bed. “No.”
“Why is that, Ophelia?” My skin was on fire. I was ready to tear out of my clothes. Still I circled her clit with my thumb languidly, focusing every point of pressure into the stroke of my fingers inside of her.
She muttered out something unintelligible, still defiant and bratty and fighting me relentlessly so I reached up and pinched the peak of her nipple hard, sending a jolt of something painfully sensual through her. Ophelia’s eyes snapped open and her jaw relaxed, her mouth curving into a soft circle.
“Speak up, I need to hear it.”
“Because I’m yours.”
I turned my head and sunk my teeth into the inside of her thigh, purposefully sucking a dark mark to the surface that was framed like art by the indent of my canines when I finally let her go. “That’s my good fucking girl.”