“How am I hiding?”
“Under those clothes. Beneath your distress. Beneath layers and layers of conflicted emotions. Stop pretending this isn’t real, because it is.”
He grabs the back of my thigh and forces my knee on the wall. His cock slides between the crack of my ass, and he lowers himself, wrenching my legs apart so that his tip is pressing on the entrance of my pussy.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he grumbles, deep and heavy. “Because you need it.” He kisses the top of my ear and I shudder. “I know you do.”
He grips my waist tight with one hand and uses the other to press it on the back of my head. He forces my forehead on the wall, and a ragged breath passes through me when I feel him slowly entering me.
Each slow, measured thrust fills me up, and I don’t know why his patience bothers me. His hands are aggressive, pinning me to this shower wall, but the fact that he’s taking his time to “fuck” me bothers me.
He needs to be hard and rough.
He needs to keep making me hate him.
I don’t need delicacy right now.
I need fire and fuel and something deep down is telling me that he knows it. But he won’t provide it because he loves having control over my needs.
He strokes slowly, releasing my waist and bringing that hand up to cup one of my breasts. He lets my head go so he can spread my ass and sink his cock in deeper. A deep groan rattles in his throat. I feel the vibration of it on my shoulder.
“Draco,” I call, my voice shaky. Not from fear, but from pure euphoria. I don’t know why I call him, but he answers.
“Sí, mi reina,” he murmurs, picking up speed. Skin slaps and water splashes between us.
“Stop,” I moan.
“No.” His hand comes up to the back of my neck and he holds it tight. “I won’t stop.” He growls deep, stroking in faster, drilling me even harder from behind.
“Oh, God,” I breathe, eyes squeezing shut.
Pulling his hand away, he turns my head sideways so that my cheek is on the wall now, instead of my forehead. Droplets of water collect on my skin, my lips.
“Look back,” he demands, “right at me.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter instead, but he pulls my hair, yanking it back and leaving me no choice but to look at him.
When hard brown matches green, he leans in and crushes my lips with his. His hard chest rests on my back, his thick cock still filling me up. In and out he goes, while his tongue works its magic with mine.
His body is glued to me and my leg is hitched up, my knee pressed on the wall to help keep balance. His hips works in circles, giving long, full thrusts now, like a rhythmic pattern, and at first I hate it, that he’s touching me like this—claiming my body as if it’s his own, but then he pulls his lips away from mine and says, “I will make you forget it all. What happened only days ago. Your ex. Everything. I will make it so that all you think about while you’re here is me, Gianna, and that is my fucking word.”
His wet mouth is on my ear, his breath warm as it trickles past. He reaches around and grazes his middle finger across my clit, cupping my pussy in his hands and forcing my hips back to bury himself even deeper.
A whimper escapes me from that action alone. The back of my head drops down on top of his shoulder and he presses those full lips to my neck, sucking away the droplets of warm water and replacing them with burning hot kisses.
His body stiffens behind me and then he sighs loud and deep, thrusting hard into my pussy several times before emptying himself inside me.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. I’ve waited for you for so long, niñita.” He brings a hand up and rakes his fingers through my hair. “It feels a hundred times better than I imagined it would feel.”
He finally pulls out and spins me around. I stare up at him, watching water coat his thick eyelashes.
“Mine,” he says, his lips so close I can feel the heat of them. “Say it. You are mine.”
I release a tattered breath as he glides a hand down my hip and cups my ass. He hauls me closer so I can really feel him, the water drifting down, sliding on our skin.
I don’t want to say it, but he doesn’t look away. And he won’t pull away until I do. I know I can’t deny it now.
“I am yours,” I whisper, and then I grip his face in my hands, leaving him no choice but to pick me up in his arms and hold me in his large hands.