“That's for the smart mouth you still have,” he rasps.
“Again,” I moan desperately.
He smacks it again, making me cry out.
“That's for the ice water.”
I don’t even have to ask; he smacks it once more, even harder.
“And that's for making me wait six years.”
Then he reaches under my chin and grabs my throat, bowing my back so I’m looking up at his beautiful face. His hips pulse against me, his cock filling me so good that I can already feel the orgasm building.
“Fuck, Alex!” I throw my ass back against him.“Fuck, I missed you!”
“Yeah, you did,” Alex groans as he digs his fingertips into my throat. “Because I’m the last one you’re ever going to feel impaling you whenever—”thrust,“I—”thrust,“fucking—”thrust,“want!”
My lungs seize and the orgasm hits, a wave of screams erupting from deep inside my chest, punctuated with broken words and desperate cries. My entire core shudders as we both come fast and hard, bound together by his cock deep in my ass and the barrel of his gun fixed in my pussy.
When it’s over, I collapse onto my stomach, my ass still in the air as I revel in the aftershocks. Dazed and ears ringing, I feel myself being rolled over. I wince as his gun falls out of me, disappearing as I run my heels up and down the comforter. I roll my head from side to side, searching for Alex, but he’s gone. There’s a faint rushing noise in the background, but I can’t find him until a few seconds later when the mattress sinks down.
Hovering over me, Alex runs his hand from my ribs up to my tits. “Mí Mariposita,” he murmurs as he thumbs my nipple with admiration, “you’re so good. You did so fucking good, just like I knew you would.”
My mouth curls into a drunk smile and all I can do is nod, my eyes fluttering as I try to focus on his eyes. He slides one arm under my shoulders and his other under my knees, then scoots me to the edge of the bed and hoists me to his chest.
I don’t know where he’s taking me until the charcoal grey walls suddenly switch to bright white and a warm blanket of steam engulfs my body. Gently, he lowers my feet onto the plush rug just outside the shower and then removes my glasses, setting them on the vanity before he leads me through the glass doors. I inhale a sharp breath and then let out a groan when I feel the scalding water cascade over my shoulders.
Alex sits down on the teak bench beneath the stream and gently pulls me to him. Straddling his legs, I sink onto his lap and drape my arms over his shoulders, settling against his glistening chest. Holding me against him with one arm, he uses the other to gently tip my head back and let the water rush over my hair. He doesn’t speak, only moves his mouth over my shoulders and chest while he sweeps the water over my body.
He takes his time lathering my long, thick hair with shampoo before carefully rinsing it out and doing the same with the conditioner—the same brands I use. Finally, he tips my head back to rinse it out, running his hand down my back with the rivers of soap and down the center of my ass. I roll against him, pulling him closer as he gently massages the sensitive places between my legs.
“I want you again,” I practically beg him, rolling my forehead across his as the water streams down us both.
“Get used to this—” he wrings the end of my hair in his fist, “me taking care of you while I mold your body to mine.”
After he bathes me, I stand on the plush rug while he dries me off and dresses me in one of his soft, grey t-shirts, finishing me off with my glasses. He does the same and, to my surprise, produces a pair of the same thick, black glasses as the ones he wore years ago.
“Nice glasses,” I quip, not-so-secretly swooning at the unobstructed view of his naked body.
“You, too,” he smirks. “You must be starving.”
“Yes,” I admit, remembering that I never actually ate dinner.
I follow Alex out of the bathroom and into the massive walk-in closet, where he opens a chest of drawers and pulls out a pair of black sweatpants. I gaze around the closet, admiring the ostentatious light fixture adorned with teardrop crystals dangling from the black metal piping. That is, until I catch sight of the clothing racks on the opposite side of the closet.
The lower shelves are lined with shoes, mostly sneakers, boots, and a few pairs of heels. The racks above them are lined with jackets, hoodies, and sweaters.Women’s clothes.
I cross the closet and open the drawers. They’re filled with neat stacks of shirts, much more feminine than expected. The next drawer is more of the same, followed by a drawer filled with pants. I jerk a pair out, letting it unfurl to reveal a pair of black leggings. I drop them on the floor and jerk open another drawer, where I come face to face with two neat rows of assorted bras.
I spin around, a surge of adrenaline racing through my veins. “Whose shit is this, Alex?”
He strolls across the closet and looks over my shoulder at the drawer full of underwear. “Oh,that.”
That?What the hell does he mean,that?
“I was going to mention—”
“Let me guess,” I cut him off, “is itjovencita’s?”