Date = 4 April
Place = San Francisco (Enrique’s home)
POV Enrique
WARNING sex scene!!!
Aria’s lips are full and soft, but with a desperate intensity as if at odds with herself. At first, I’m slightly stunned; my mind trying to convince me for a moment that this should not be happening. It’s dangerous … for me. It’s not part of the contract.
But my body quickly overwrites my conscience and I bite her bottom lip. She moans softly, the small opening in response is all I need and my tongue eagerly takes the opportunity to explore the sweetness of her mouth. Another moan. The sweet appreciative noise vibrates through me – to the end of my cock.
For a moment I’m lost in the sweet taste of sugar-candy fudge; my absolute favorite by the way; and it’s simply just too much for someone like me, who’s been celibate for quite a while now, and all my resistance crumbles with a horny growl. To be quite frank, I’ve been suffering from lascivious thoughts since I met her, but that’s not something I’ll advertise openly.
Why do I want this so much? Why does this feel so wrong but so right at the same time? My subconscious appears all of a sudden from where it was hiding and I don’t like what it’s saying – she deserves more than a punk like you? Someone who can love … not a robot that can’t even say the words.
For the first time in forever, something else is more important than my needs. Usually, I would not care about the girl’s feelings at all, I just wanted to get unloaded as fast as possible, and then get the hell out. So what’s the difference now? Why do I want to please her, satisfy her, know her, make her scream my name?
“Aria,” I groan and pull away, holding her head against my chest. Is her heart beating as fast as mine? Is she feeling the same shit I am right now?
“Are you sure about …” I start but get interrupted when she pulls my mouth back to hers, her hands moving over my torso. I’m possessed; tingles run cross-wire through my body, down to my rockhard erection.
Resisting my extreme need, I push her away again … and she looks into my eyes, hers blanketed with innocent desire and the sight makes my dick jump as more blood rushes into it. As if it can get any harder.
Fuck, what is happening to me? I swear this must be the voodoo witchcraft Damion was trying to explain to us. I didn’t understand it then, but I’m getting it now.
“Don’t you want me?” she asks softly, tilting her head to the side. Her fragile look burns into my heart like hellfire. Boy oh boy, is her assessment of this situation way off. I should put things right.
“Oh fuck girl, I swear my dick has never been harder than it’s right now, but I just don’t want you to feel obligated … ” I’m totally cut off from even trying to finish that sentence when her hand unexpectantly cups my junk. I suck in a deep breath through gritted teeth. I’ve never been so aroused. I can barely contain myself. I don’t get it…it must be her. Or voodoo.
Then her finger trails across the whole length of my penis … AND something snaps. I lose my mind … all my resistance … and all reason. Hell, all I can think about now is making her mine … claiming her body … over and over and over again. I know it’s selfish, but I shut my subconscious up and pass the point of no return.
Grouching with a shiver, my mouth conquers hers unlawfully, coaxing her, as our tongues tentatively meet. I put my arms around her and haul her onto my lap, keeping her lips hostage. One hand moves up to undo her ponytail, the other travels south down her spine to her waist to cup her ass. It flexes and I squeeze gently, a bit handicapped by the bandage around my hand.
She curves her back and pushes her breasts up against me, her hands tentatively moving up to my face, around my neck, and into my hair. She makes the most seductive little groaning sound I’ve ever heard while gently tugging my hair as her desire grows. I snort; vulgarly wanting.
A lack of patience drives me to move both hands under her thin shirt, pulling it slowly up and over her head, our eyes locked; carnivorous need.
I lick my lips. Round plump tits beg me to touch them through the white lacy underwear. I feel like a twelve-year-old paging through a Playboy magazine for the first time, I can’t look away. Her skin is perfection; pale; flawless; unsettling. I look up at her face to find her blushing; hot bubblegum pink cheeks; and I only want her more.
I trace my thumb over her swollen lips while my bandaged hand supports her back. Slowly my thumb moves down her neck and into her cleavage.
Dipping my finger into her bra cup, I jerk it down, freeing one beauty. I rest the material under her breast, forcing it up, and making it taut. The nipple is a delicate, rose-pink, peak and I softly blow on it, watching with fascination as it hardens under my gaze. I take the little perfect blob into my mouth, sucking it and pulling it lightly with my teeth while uncapping the other boob. I give it the same attention and Aria arches her back, wriggling with pleasure, whining with soft expectation.
“Holy crap,” I whisper in awe, watching her response. Fuck I want her. I want her as I’ve never wanted anything before.
I expertly unhook her bra with one hand and throw it onto the floor, flipping her around so she’s lying on the bed, then pull down her leggings in one swift motion; the view of her only in some kind of sexy white thong, with messed up hair and lustful eyes, makes me want to bury myself in her right there and then.
I can’t wait. Easing down my tracksuit pants thank the devil I’m not wearing any underwear I watch her face as she sees my erect manhood for the first time. Her eyes grow and she doesn’t even try to look away; she stares openly. What is that look? Trepidation? Awe? Fuck I love how natural and naive she is. Then something comes to mind.