The room was bathed in a warm, lazy light as Vic settled himself between my legs, his eyes dark with hunger tempered by tenderness. He moved slowly at first, pressing deep inside me with deliberate care, savoring every inch as if committing it to memory.
“Eres hermosa,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low
and thick with desire. (You are beautiful.) “Y me tomas tan bien… mejor que
nadie.” (And you take me so well… better than anyone.)
His hands cupped my hips gently, holding me steady as he
began to rock against me, slow and steady. His lips brushed my collarbone, then
trailed lower, pausing to circle and pinch my nipples softly, sending sharp
jolts of pleasure through me.
“¿Te gusta cuando te toco aquí?” he asked, voice thick with
need. (Do you like it when I touch you here?)
I gasped, biting my lip. “Sí, Vic… no pares.” (Yes, Vic…
don’t stop.)
His fingers twisted my nipples slowly, teasing me, while his
hips drove deep and steady. Every movement built the tension tighter, a coil
ready to snap. He leaned down to suck one nipple between his lips, pulling
gently before switching to the other, his hands kneading and pinching as he
moved with me. Sharp waves of pleasure rolled through me, mingling with the
ache deep inside.
Vic’s breath hitched as he climaxed, cumming deep inside me.
He stayed buried, holding me as I trembled beneath him.
Eventually, we took a break and went downstairs together.
The scent of spices and sizzling filled the air as Vic cooked for me, his touch
light and teasing as he stirred the pan.
“¿Quieres un poco de vino?” he asked, pouring two glasses.
(Do you want some wine?)
I said yes, taking the glass. We ate slowly, wrapped in
comfortable silence, sharing three bottles of wine between us as we ate. Neither of us
needed words—the soft clink of glasses and the warmth of the wine filled the
spaces between glances and quiet breaths.
Afterward, we cleaned up side by side—Vic’s hand brushing
mine as we moved, quiet laughter slipping between us. Then we returned
upstairs.
Back in my room, Vic’s eyes burned with hunger again.
“¿Lista?” he asked softly. (Ready?)
I nodded, heart pounding.
Vic’s hands were on me immediately, pulling me close, lips
crushing mine in a kiss that stole my breath. He slid inside me slow and deep,
every inch igniting fire.
I whimpered, his name slipping out as he started a steady
rhythm, hips grinding gently. “Así, Vic… así…” I gasped, my hands clutching his
shoulders.
He groaned deep in his throat. “Quiero estar bien profundo dentro de ti." he whispered. (I want you to be deep inside of of you)
He shifted me onto my back, lifting my legs over his
shoulders. The new angle sent sharp pleasure curling low, my breath hitching.
His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer as he thrust harder, deeper.
“Más fuerte,” I begged, voice trembling with need.
“Sí, princesa,” he murmured, voice rough. “Te hago mía.”
(Yes, Princess....I’m making you mine.)
Our moans mingled—his low grunts with my gasps and
breathless cries—filling the quiet room. When he hit that perfect spot, I
screamed his name, body arching uncontrollably.
“Vic…” I panted, sweat slick on skin.
He growled and flipped me over, pressing me onto my stomach.
His hands roamed my back and down to my breasts, pinching and twisting my
nipples hard. A sharp, delicious sting shot through me.
“¿Te gusta?” he asked, lips close to my ear.
“Yes…” I gasped. “Más…”
He took me harder and faster, each thrust sending shocks
through my body. My moans turned to screams, fingers digging into the sheets.
“Me vuelves loco,” Vic groaned, cumming deep inside me
again. (You drive me crazy.)
He pulled me back up, flipping me to straddle him. My hands
found his chest as I rode him slow, savoring the stretch and fullness.
His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs flicking my nipples
while his mouth found mine. “Tan hermosa,” he whispered, voice thick with need.
“Vic…” I moaned, rocking against him.
Again and again, he came inside me, the heat spreading,
marking me with each release.
We shifted—kneeling, standing, pressed against the bedposts—our bodies slick and tangled. His fingers never left my nipples, teasing relentlessly, pinching and twisting until my senses were overwhelmed with pleasure.
Exhaustion finally claimed us. We collapsed, breathless and tangled in sweat-slick sheets, hearts pounding.
But dawn was no end.
Vic’s hunger returned full force.
He bent me over the kitchen counter, hands gripping my hips
hard as he fucked me slow and deep. My breath hitched, fingers clutching the
marble.
“Eres mía,” he growled. (You’re mine.)
From there, we moved to the home office. The door clicked
shut behind us as Vic kissed me fiercely, hands roaming, thrusting harder and
faster, breaking me open with every stroke—cumming deep inside me once more.
We made our way back to the bedroom, where Vic fucked me
multiple times—sometimes slow and tender, other times rough and urgent—his
breath ragged, voice hoarse with desire. His mouth and hands never left my
nipples, licking, biting, pinching, twisting, sending sharp sparks of pleasure
racing through me. And every time, he came inside me.
The shower followed, hot water running over our slick skin.
He pressed me against the tile, taking me hard, fingers pinching and twisting
my nipples, jolts of pleasure riding the warmth as he cummed deep inside me
again.
Back in the bedroom, he mounted me one last time, cumming
deep inside me with a shuddering release. He held me close, voice thick and low
as he whispered,
“Me encanta lo que hace tu coña conmigo.” (I love what your
pussy does to me.)
He caught my face in his hands, kissed me deeply, then
pinched both nipples firmly—sending a delicious shiver racing through me.
He dressed slowly, lingering for a final look of my body before leaving;
the scent of him lingering long after the door closed behind him.
After he was gone, my phone buzzed softly in my hand. A
message from Vic appeared:
“Disfruté mucho mi tiempo contigo. No puedo esperar para
visitarte de nuevo.”
(I really enjoyed my time with you. I can’t wait to visit you again.)
A slow smile spread across my lips as I read his words, the
warmth of the night lingering even after he was gone.
I rose from the bed, muscles still tender, and stripped the
bedding, carrying it to the laundry room. I moved the previous load from the
washer into the dryer and loaded the bedding from last night’s passion
into the washer.
The warm water of the shower soothed my skin as my fingers
traced the lingering bruises—soft purples and reds—from Vic’s firm pinches,
Randy’s eager teeth marks, and Vince’s possessive hands. Each mark was a
testament to the nights passed, stories written on my skin.
After dressing, I cleaned the house, the rhythm calming me.
When I finished, I called Darnell. Not long after, he arrived, carrying food
from the diner.
We settled in, the smell of the food mingling with the quiet
in the room. I shared some of the details from the last two nights, careful
with what I said but honest about the intensity.
“The other night,” I began, “I took both Randy and Vince
together.” I glanced at Darnell, gauging his reaction.
He raised his eyebrows, interested but not judging. “That’s…
something.”
I nodded. “It was intense. Then last night was Vic.”
He leaned back, chewing thoughtfully. “Vic? You want
more from him?”
I hesitated. “I do. But it’s complicated.”
Darnell looked at me closely. “Is Vic married?”
I sighed. “Yes, he is.”
He grinned. “You know, I enjoy the company of Hispanic men
too.”
I looked at him knowingly, a slow smile forming. “I won’t be
sharing Vic with a third person.”
We laughed, the tension easing.
Later, Darnell helped me move the bedding from the washer to
the dryer, his hands steady and sure. Together, we turned my room back together.
As he grabbed his coat to leave, he said, “Jessica and I are
working on getting back together. She’s coming around to the fact that I’m bi.
We’re planning to have sex tonight.”
I smiled warmly. “Good luck.”
He nodded, gave me a final look, and left.
The house felt quieter, but somehow lighter — like a chapter closing and a new one beginning.
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