Café Rouge

Chapter 18: An Ambush on One

Chapter 18

The suit hangs heavy on his frame. Not that it should because it is flawlessly tailored but perhaps it is the sense of duty that it carries today. He glances over his shoulder at his companion. Her wild hair, chestnut hair smeared all around her means her face is practically hidden in its maze. One bare arm is tossed over her head; while the sheets slide down to reveal part of her bare back. He's not surprised she's so tired after last night's trysts. That surge of male pride shoots through him before it's replaced by the longing to take off the excessive clothing and create a part 2. He settles instead for a gentle kiss on her soft shoulder and a stroke of her arm.

Lola shifts at the movement, eyelashes fluttering open as she turns to face him.
"Morning," she greets him, her voice husky and quiet.

That scratchy voice and her almost naked form is like a bullet of lust that lodges in Carlos.

Lola rubs her eyes, blinking them wide open only to tighten her grip on the bed-sheets. Uh-oh. He has that look in his eyes again. That half-cast, lustful, determined one that means she will definitely be yielding to him and any protests are futile.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet," she whispers as he leans down.
"Don't care," he mutters in response capturing her already swollen lips between his.
Oh God....

He's brutal in his assault, barging his way through her lips to thrust his tongue into her mouth. One of his hands holds her head firmly, making her sit up just to keep up with him. Her traitorous body of course, abandons all dignity, as she thrusts it wantonly against him, rubbing her stiffening nípples against his scratchy suit.

"Carlos...." She gasps softly as he momentarily focuses his lips on her jaw and then to her top of her neck, just below her left ear where he knows is sensitive. The sheets drop from her torso and he takes that opportunity to cup one heavy breast craving for his attention.

She forgets what she was going to say, reduced to only lusty moans and groans as he toys with her libido. It's really not fair, how calm he can be despite the evidence she can feel; yet she can never replicate his control. Perhaps that's why she enjoys it so much more when she can get him to lose control.
Her petite hand rubs him through his trousers, as his own hand is lost under the covers to between her legs. He rubs her in assured strokes that always seem to know exactly where to place the pressure and have her writhing against his hand.
"Carlos!" she cries as he makes slow, calculated circles on her button of pleasure.

Her mewl of his name is something she ultimately regrets though as he slows the movement of his fingers and reduces the ferocity of his kisses.
"Fuck! Piccola I've really got to go now," he sighs pulling away.

The sudden cease of pleasure has Lola left in confusion.
"Wait...what?" she mumbles in confusion as he gathers himself and pushes off the bed.
She scrambles after him, tethering the edge of the mattress as she tugs sharply on his arm.
"No, wait! Don't leave. Not yet," she pleads causing him to twist around to face her.

Knowing she has to do something quick to entice him back to her embrace and take care of the problem he's now created for her, she brings his hand up to her mouth. With her most seductive gaze, she kisses his middle finger, earning her a sharp inhale from him. Her tongue softly swirls around the very tip before she suctions it slowly into her the warm, wet embrace of her mouth and then as soon as she hits the very base, it's languidly pulled back out with hallowed cheeks and a flicker of her eyes up to him.
"Come back to bed, baby. Finish what you started," she challenges him with a low seductive voice.

It takes him a monumental amount of strength to resist. But he really doesn't have time right now to ravage her in a way that satisfies them both. And perhaps, he shouldn't have started anything he wasn't intending on finishing however at that moment, he couldn't turn down his personal, little harlot.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he says easing himself out of her grip and straightening his suit, while she shoots him a look between a pout and a scowl.