Page 96 of Sombra
“Hands on the counter, amor,” he orders, his lips whispering against my neck. As I obey, he startstaking long, sweet sucks on my skin between my ear and shoulder. One hand lingers on my breast, the other makes its way down between my legs, and he starts rubbing me. “You want this?”
I nod, my head tilted back, my lips parted. After so many sessions with him, I’m shameless. I’m dizzy with him. Two of his fingers massage me at my core, caressing me, inside and out. His other hand holdsme to him as he licks and kisses my neck. I can only see our shapes in the mirror—our outlines—nothing clear. But I know I love feeling his strong body behind me. Him.
I love him.
Because the sex we have isn’t just infatuation or lust overtaking us over and over again, although it is that. It’s a dance of trust, with our hearts joining together and our souls melding.
He grinsagainst my neck. Now he’s talking in Spanish, because he knows I understand more of it than when I first got here. He also knows that when he starts speaking Spanish, I’d pretty much just throw my panties at him, if they weren’t off already. “You like this, little bunny. Your breaths are fast. Your heat scorches me. Your wetness coats me. You’re loving this, no?”
I am.
“You can takeme now,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.
“No ravaging you without protection. Appointment next week, right?”
“Yes.”
“This is a taste before class. Bend over more.”
He’s using his growly voice that leaves no room for argument, and I don’t want to argue. “Tavo,” I whisper, but I can’t say anything more. He overwhelms me with his attention.
I lean toward thecounter, spreading my legs more. His hands assuredly rub and rub and rub between my legs, as he kisses down my back, and rub, rub, rub, and more kisses, and I close my eyes and open them. I’m staring down at the tile and then up into the mirror, which remains steamy. Wiggling my hips gets me nowhere, because he holds me to him, and I feel his arousal. “You want to come on my face?” he asks. “Beforeclass?”
Did he ask a question?
But he’s shifted, now on his knees between my legs, and what was his finger is now his tongue. One of my legs props up on the counter, and I’m standing, spread apart like a dirty ballet dancer at the barre.
This is so naughty, because there’s space under the door, and you can hear out in the hall. I’m trying to keep it quiet, because I don’tknow if anyone is up and waiting to use the shower.
I let all my thoughts go, though, and indulge in his tongue on me. My shoulders relax, and I can’t help but grind into his model-perfect face. The hollows under his cheekbones covered with his scruff.
My body works, as it always does with him. I quiver. I tense. And biting my knuckle, I come, shaking all over him as he keeps goingon my pussy.
When I come down, he’s still there, going slower and gentler, easing me down from my high. I still, and he stands up, grabs a towel and wipes his face.
He gives me a devilish grin. “Get dressed, or we’ll be late.”
“Let me at least return the favor,” I sigh, glancing down at his obvious erection. I can’t bear to have him uncomfortable.
He starts to shakehis head, no, but then shrugs and gestures down with his arms out. “What is mine is yours.”
I’m on my knees unbuckling his belt before he finishes his sentence and shoving down his pants.
It’s kinda hot to have him fully dressed and me naked. Because it’sTavo, I get off on giving him his fantasies. I've come to understand what this give and take of power means to him, the freedomand trust, and it’s fun to play the role of him being the Dom and me the sub.
He’s said that we can switch sometime, too.
As I kneel on the cushion of the towel, I lick up his shaft to the top and grip him with my other hand, pumping him up his length. I’m still not used to his piercing. It fascinates me, and I run my tongue over the top, down his head to the other end. With my otherhand, I gently squeeze his balls, then make my way back.
Tavo’s gone, his head thrown back. He lowers it back down, giving me a soft look while he’s fully hard. I can tell he’s gone, because he’s doing the low, whispered, Spanish-curse thing while running his hands through my still-wet hair. His hips jerk forward involuntarily, thrusting into my mouth, and I choke a little and recover.
“I’m sorry, amor,” he pants and tries to pull me up by my chin, but I shake my head and keep going.
I’m sucking, licking, swirling, jacking him. Doing whatever makes him swear more. Whatever makes him harder. Whatever makes his veins pop and his breath come out in a guttural roar.
“Joder. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck,” he hisses. “Kim, my love, don’t stop, don’t stop. Please,oh fuck, yes—”
There’s a pause.
