Page 24 of Roulette: The Madam

“Ummm– yesssss.”

I lifted a finger, pressing the arrows on the screen to turn the camera. Now, we were both watching as Matías cleaned his plate.

“Yo, what the fuck you on, Roulette?”

I tightened my grip on Matías’ hair and began grinding my hips into his shoulders.

“Yesss– just like tha– uhhh.”

The heat of the moment intensified my orgasm’s urgency. When the first wave slammed against my center, I jolted. My legs began quivering.

“Don’t stop. Just like thaaaaat,” I instructed. “Matíasssss.”

His fingers pushed into me from below.

“Qué jodidamente bueno, mami.”

The camera fell from his left hand onto my stomach. Chino’s unraveling magnified my sensitivity. I began to tingle all over. My ass bounced on the bed as the second wave ended me.

Stars.

Moon.

Planets.

Sun.

The entire stratosphere appeared behind my lids.

I came. And, I came hard.

“Urhhhhhhhh. Fuck. Yes. Uhhhh.”

The line died and so did my pussy. But just like any other feline, it had nine lives. As the condom caressed Matías’ circumference, it was gifted a second life. I opened for him, accepting his thickness with gratitude.

Years in St. Catana had deprived me of constant pleasure administered by masculinity, a sizable tool, and carefully calculated strokes. The three days I’d spent wrapped in Matías’ sheets had made up for every day spent on the island. However, I had business to tend to and an empire to rebuild.

Colombia was the perfect bandage for the pain, but this was chess. Not checkers. The Queen was in pursuit of more than temporary pleasure with a notorious drug lord. She was prepared to clear the entire board. There were more pawns to conquer before she settled with her reign.

Exhaustion hacked awayat my energy, nearly paralyzing me to the bone. I avoided the four-car garage where the coupe was waiting for my arrival. Instead, I parked in the driveway and exited, leaving my weekender in the backseat. I hadn’t touched a piece of clothing inside.

My body was free of threads seventy-five percent of my stay in Colombia. The other twenty-five percent was filled with new pieces, new tags, and Matías’ sheets. My lids sealed involuntarily as I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth at the thought of the things that went on in Matías’ mansion.

If those walls could talk.

“Mm.” A low moan escaped me.

“You foul as fuck, Roulette!” Chino’s voice travelled through the darkness, putting an end to my sweet memories.

Ugh. Niggas. A roll of my eyes and the contorting of my face displayed my annoyance.

There was a time when his voice brought me peace.Contentment. Happiness. For my sanity and his, I remained quiet and closed the door. I began the journey toward my front door.

“Roulette. I’m talking to you.”

Chino was no longer across the lawn. He was near. I could smell him. I could feel him. I could hear his footsteps drawing closer.

“I’m in no mood, Chino. And, how do you even know where the fuck I live?”

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