Page 47 of Red Queen
“Yeah, yeah. You’re just always right, huh? You always have to have the last word,” he says with a low, mocking tone, and my anger flares.
“Cállate, Mateo, I swear to god…” I let out an angry chuckle, my hands clutching the seat so hard my nails almost break.
“Shut me up yourself.” My eyes widen, and I have to take a double look to see if he’s serious.
“What did you just say?” I ask in disbelief, my brain still not fully processed his words.
“I said shut me up yourself, querida.” He reaches for my arm and pulls me into his lap, and I don’t stop him. Why does my body always do the exact opposite my brain wants to?
His fingers snake up into my hair, then grab the back of my neck, and he captures my lips in the hottest kiss I’ve ever received. It’s sexy, slow, but skillful at the same time, the kind that leaves you wanting more.
The car suddenly stops, and we separate ourselves, our breaths mingling as we pant, our mouths still close to each other. I peel myself off Mateo’s lap, exiting the car as soon as possible. I close the door on him, not caring how he’s calling after me.
I don’t need to be involved in another messy relationship, especially not in a messy something-ship, where I can’t even decide what we are. One minute he’s dissing on me, mocking me, then the next he’s kissing me like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. And they say women are confusing.
As I reach the floor of my room, I hear the footsteps behind me speed up. Obviously, the elevator was on the top floor, and Isurely wasn’t gonna wait for it, so I took the stairs. One thing I didn’t calculate is that I just ate, I can’t climb stairs in high heels, and it’s not so comfy barefoot.
“Stop following me!” I shout, knowing that it’s Mateo who’s after me. Or at least I hope so, or I’ve just accused a person climbing the stairs of stalking me.
I almost ran to reach my room, knowing he would outrun me anytime. He’s an athlete, I can’t run faster than him, but I can try. As I fumble to insert the card, a hand stops me from opening the door at the last minute.
“Where do you think you’re going, querida?”
“To bed. I’m tired.” He gently grabs my waist and turns me around, so that I’m pushed against the door, facing him.
“Mentirosa.” And once again, he calls me a liar. Only this time, he’s right. He inserts the card, opening the door and closing it behind him as he pulls me towards the bedroom.
“You’re impossible to figure out,” I say, but the annoyance quickly turns into surprise and desire, as his hands snake up from my wrist to my neck, gripping my throat gently but possessively.
“I don’t need you to figure me out.” His lips crash against mine for the second time, and I don’t pull away this time either. It’s weird how much my body craves him, even though my mind wants nothing but for him to be gone.
I push him on the bed, our mouths still connected, then I climb on top of him, claiming dominance, however much he’s not used to it. A wicked thought forms in my mind, and I know exactly how to make him regret not being nice to me.
I break the kiss, then tug on his pants as I settle on my knees beside him. He scoots up, getting comfortable on the pillows as I pull his pants down, followed by his boxers. His hardened dick breaks free, and I start teasing him, tracing patterns around it.
“You didn’t listen to me, Mateo. You’ve been a bad boy.” My fingers trace his V-line, and his whole body shudders at the feeling. Men are so easy to rile up.
He lets out a hiss when my fingers reach his cock, my index finger tracing it up and down on it, teasing his balls on the way.
“Rosa, please,” he whimpers, and I smirk at his desperation. There we go. Game on.
I lower my head, licking the tip, playing with him, then with a swift motion, I take him all the way in. I choke a little from the length, tears swelling in my eyes as I keep him at the back of my throat.
“Dios mío.” He pants, letting me know I’m doing a good job.
It’s a little different from this new angle. I’ve never sucked a man from the side before. But it is easier. I massage his balls, increasing the sensation for him. My head bobs up and down with slow motions, taking him all the way ever so often. I use all my best knowledge, drinking in the sound of his moans. He pops up on his elbows, grabbing my head, gently guiding it up and down his cock.
“Rosa, I…” He moves on the bed, lifting his hips, fucking my mouth as best as he can. I cry out from the new sensation, my gag-reflex suddenly activated.
He’s desperately trying to come, so I suck on it harder, not caring about the tears in my eyes. His moans turn to whimpers, indicating he’s reaching the end. My head bobs as fast as possible, his hand still gripping my hair. His toes start to curl, and with a loud pop, I remove my mouth from his cock.
“Why… Why did you stop?” he asks, panting, watching as I wipe my mouth, removing the leftover saliva.
“Told you you’ve been a bad boy. Now you’ll suffer the consequences.” I stand up from the bed with a wicked smirk, amused at his dumbfounded expression. “I expect you to be gone when I’m out of the shower.”
I grab the needed stuff for showering, then head into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. If he wants to play dirty, then here I am.
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