Page 42 of Loco

Still, I didn’t stop. I worked her through it, kept sucking, kept stroking until her body jolted beneath me. She was too sensitive, her hips bucking involuntarily, trying to escape the overstimulation. I hadn’t let go—but she did.

With a wet pop, her mouth slipped off me, and she moved quickly, breathless and wild-eyed. In the blink of an eye, her pussy was in front of me again, her hand reaching out, eager to guide me back inside her.

“I want you inside me,” she panted, her voice rough with need.

That was almost enough to short-circuit every rational thought I had. But I forced myself to stay focused—just long enough to fumble in the drawer beside the bed. My hand almost instantly closed around the familiar foil packet, tearing it open with practiced urgency.

She was still reaching for me when I rolled the condom on, and by the time I positioned myself between her thighs, I was shaking with restraint. I guided my tip to her entrance, and as her heat and tightness began to envelop me, I exhaled hard—like I’d been holding my breath since the moment she pulled her mouth off me.

Sliding inside her was like coming home. Slowly, I pushed in, inch by inch, savoring every moment her body welcomed mine.

I ran a hand up her body, tracing the line of her ribs and the swell of her breast until I reached her throat. My palm rested there, not applying pressure, just grounding us in the moment. My body was over hers now, close enough to feel her breath against my lips, and I looked down at her—flushed, open, completely mine.

Looking down into her eyes, I let my hand trail gently along her side, anchoring myself to her softness, to the moment. My voice was low, almost reverent, as I whispered, “Slowly. I want to take my time tonight, to really feel you. I want to leave something behind—so deep inside you, you’ll never forget I was here.”

Her expression shifted, softened, like my words settled into some part of her she hadn’t been expecting me to touch. She blinked up at me, eyes wide and vulnerable, then said with a quiet, unshakable certainty, “I never forget when you’ve been inside me.”

God, that answer hit me in the chest.

But still, I meant what I said. I needed more than just the act—I needed the memory to last.

So I moved slowly, guiding myself into her with control, each inch a deliberate decision. There was no rush. Just heat, tension, and the intimacy of two people who knew this might have to carry them for a while. We never broke eye contact, not once. I watched every flicker of pleasure on her face, every twitch of her lips, every flutter of her lashes until I was buried in her completely.

Only then did I close my eyes and drop my forehead to her shoulder, needing a moment to breathe. To not come too soon. To stay in the moment without letting it consume me.

When I felt steady again, I whispered for her to wrap her legs around my waist. She did without hesitation, locking us together. My hands gripped her hips, grounding me as I slowly stood, lifting her lower body with me. Her body adjusted perfectly like she was made to fit me this way.

With each stroke, I moved in and out of her with slow, measured thrusts. I wasn’t just fucking her—I was learning her all over again. Memorizing the way her body hugged mine, the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her eyes fluttered when I hit that spot inside her. I absorbed everything—how she felt, how she looked, how she sounded because I didn’t know what the next few weeks would hold. I didn’t know if we’d get another night like this, but I’d take this with me. I’d carry it. And if the silence or distance got too loud, this would be what I returned to.

And when it finally happened—when we came together, bodies trembling, hearts pounding in sync—it felt like I had done exactly what I set out to do. I had marked her, left a part of myself buried deep inside, even if there was the barrier of the condom between us.

The aftershocks hit harder than I expected. So hard I almost let it show. I almost let my emotions spill out in the open where I couldn’t take them back.

Almost.

Chapter 14

Sayla

The house smelled like plaster dust and damp wood, but at least the lights worked now. The contractors had done a solid job rewiring everything and were nearly finished with the plumbing. Obviously, I didn’t have a bath since it had fallen straight through the ceiling like some kind of tragic slapstick joke, but I had running water. That counted for something. I could go to my parent’s place in the morning to shower, and having that extra time with them wasn’t that bad.

The new bathroom was waiting on the structural repairs, which, in theory, should be finished within the week. They’d found more damage than anyone expected, hidden rot and warped beams, all of which I’d had to report to the insurance company. Fingers crossed, they'd cover it. Still, the idea of packing up and moving in with my sister or parents, even temporarily until it was done, didn’t sit right with me. Sure, it would’ve made life easier, but I didn’t want to be too far from Roque—especially not today.

I walked to the front window and gently tilted the wooden blinds open, peering through the slats just as Roque’s car pulled into his driveway across the street. My breath caught. He got out, gently holding Kairo’s hand while Kaida was curled up against his chest, her little arms around his neck. My heart melted at the sight, but that warmth turned quickly into worry.

They’d been through so much already, losing their parents and being uprooted from everything familiar. I didn’t even know if they truly understood what "gone forever" meant regarding their mom and dad. The weight of it pressed down on me, thick and heavy.

I let the blinds fall back into place and sighed, my chest tight. The silence of the half-repaired house suddenly felt too much. I grabbed my bag and keys, deciding to head to my sister’s. A visit with my niece and nephew might lift my spirits—and I could finally have a proper bath, hopefully without it crashing through the ceiling this time.

I hovered by the window for a moment longer, watching Roque carry the kids inside. Kaida had her head tucked against his shoulder, curls bouncing slightly with each step. Kairo trailed close, his small hand still clenched tightly in Roque’s. My phone was already in my hand before I even realized it.

“You okay? Need anything?” I typed, thumb hesitating over the send button for a second before I pressed it.

The message went through instantly, but I didn’t wait around for a reply. He had enough on his plate, and I knew he’d text back when he could.

I slipped on my boots and shrugged into my jacket, stuffing a few things into my bag—a change of clothes, some toiletries, andthe good conditioner my sister always tried to steal. Locking up took longer than it should’ve, mostly because I double-checked everything out of habit. The house was still in recovery mode, and part of me didn’t trust it not to fall apart the second I walked away.

The air outside was cool, early evening creeping in, and the sky was beginning to tint that soft shade of lavender. I glanced over at Roque’s house as I got into my car, but the curtains were drawn now. The lights were on. They were safe, that was enough.

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