ʻʻWhat's forbidden is always the sweetest.ʼʼ
This is a story where you're going to hate him. You might even hate her. The two people who are doing something very wrong in other people's eyes, but to them it's the most right thing they've ever done...
He's gentle. He's slow. He's making long strokes, making sure I feel him whole, making sure I get as much pleasure as he can give me.
He's a selfless lover, I've found out. He loves to give, even though he loves to receive even more.
"Squeeze your pussy."
I do as he says and he groans deep and low. That sound makes me moan in return, so I do it again and Adrian hangs his head low, biting me on the shoulder. "You feel too good."
"Ay, so do you," I moan in his ear, wrapping my legs around his waist, pushing him closer to me. We're touching everywhere, we're plastered against each other. It's hot. "Más rápido. Dámelo." Faster. Give it to me.
Adrian thrusts hard into me, so hard, the headboard of the bed moves against the wall. "Fucking hell," he curses. "You speaking Spanish will kill me."
"Es así, guapo?" Is that so, handsome?
His thrusts become frantic, fast and hard and I can't do anything but throw my head back and roll my eyes in pleasure. "No pares! Por favor! Ay!"
He doesn't stop. He's holding me to himself and fucks me without any holding back now, his cock driving deep in me and then going back out, returning back fast and hard, moving the bed and making it leave loud noises.
I'm so close I can't even let out a word, I just part my mouth open and can't even breathe, knowing what's coming. "Yes," Adrian hisses. "You're there. I can feel it. Give it to me," he grits out, circling his hips so he rubs my clit and I'm gone. Lost.
Falling, falling and landing loudly. I'm gripping his name, calling out his name, begging him for I don't even know what. Adrian follows me with his own release, stilling inside of me, his mouth just a breath over my jaw.
He holds me to him for a few heartbeats. I don't know if it's to wait until he calms down or he craves the closure just like me. Probably the former.
I feel him brush his lips over my jaw, ever so softly and he removes the hair that fell over my sweaty face. He slips out of me and rolls down on the bed next to me. I hear him groan. "This mattress is really uncomfortable."
I want to curl my body against his, I want to cuddle him, but I hold back. I don't know if he'd like that and I don't want to make a bad move. He came here willingly, I don't want to do something that would make him leave.
"I'm not complaining," I say into the darkness, curling into myself. I'm tired again and even though the sleep wants to take me, staying up with Adrian in my bed is something I'd much rather do, I'm battling it to not close my eyes and give in.
But it turns out that he'll make the task easy for me. I feel the mattress shifting and I move in alarm. "Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep now."
I hear him stand up and walk across the room. I want to call him back, ask him to stay. But what I say instead is only a quiet, "Buenas noches, Adrian."
At which he grunts back a, "Goodnight." And the slowly leaves my room.
And I feel so goddamned vacía. Empty. Even though just a minutes ago, I was filled with him. Basically.
I force myself to shut my eyes and go back to sleep, force myself to get his touch and his voice out of my head. And I force myself to not be hurt about his quick dismissal.
This is only fucking. No real feelings.
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