Page 53 of My Secret Bandit

“Can I do it?” I whispered, pulling myself to sit up.

His smile boiled my blood as he handed it to me.

He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and kneeled in front of me. His teeth dug into his lip, quieting a groan as I placed the rubber on his tip and rolled it over his length, never taking my eyes off him.

“So fucking sexy.” He smirked, his eyes as dark as I’d seen them.

“Yes, you are.” I smiled back.

His mouth crashed down on mine. I tasted myself on his lips. Instead of feeling embarrassed, the tightness in my belly grew.

Pulling away from the bruising kiss, he leaned back. Desire still burned in his eyes, but there was also a gentleness now too.

“Just relax, baby.” He smoothed his thumb over my lips. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

I nodded.

“I need to hear you say it.” His voice grew hoarse with passion. The scent of arousal filling the room only aided him, my center dripping.

“I need you, I’m ready.”

“If you want me to stop, just say so.”

I nodded.

He brushed the hair from my face.

Hyper-focused, I felt him brush along my seam. My body flinched, and a gasp escaped as he tried to push in. He immediately pulled back.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He laid his forehead on mine. I saw the struggle on his face, felt the tension shaking his muscles. He worked so hard to control himself. So hard to keep me comfortable.

“Mateo, please,” I begged, leaning up to kiss him hungrily.

Using the kiss as a distraction I pushed my body into him, allowing him to enter. This time my gasp morphed into a moan as he stretched me. There was discomfort, but nothing compared to how badly my body ached for him.

He broke the kiss to concentrate on his movements, slowly burying inside me.

My hips bucked on their own, driving him further, and the room filled with the sounds of our moans. My nails dug into his back, and I bit his collarbone as I adjusted to him again.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

We stayed like that until my grip on him eased and my body relaxed. With a delicate movement, Mateo worked his length out before pushing it back in. As he continued, his rhythm increased. My walls tightened around him.

“This was one of my dreams, Jameson.” His slow words matched his thrusts, and the pressure in my belly grew with each one. “I had you here, spread just like this. I needed to see every inch of you. Feel every inch of you.” He played out his thoughts, lifting my legs to drape them over each muscular arm. His fingertips dug into my skin with an enticing mixture of pleasure and pain. Pulling my hips to his, his thrusts became harder. Faster. The sound of our skin slapping together created a duet with our moans. “You grabbed your breasts, squeezed them tight, pulling on those perfect fucking nipples.”

He continued his pace, and my hands massaged my breasts and pulled on my hardened nipples. His jaw clenched, letting the concaves of his cheeks shine through. His eyes stayed on me as I toyed with my breasts. “Just like that.” He bent forward, hitting a new spot deep inside. One hand swallowed both of my wrists and held them above my head. His mouth landed on my breast and he ravaged me. Sucked and bit bruises to the surface that he soothed with his skilled tongue. His free hand moved between our bodies and massaged my center in time with his thrusts.

My body arched, neck strained back. The pressure mounted to an almost unbearable high as my body trembled under him.

“There it is. Come for me, baby. Let me see that face again.” He pinched my clit between his fingers, and I was done. I dove off the edge with reckless abandon, free falling into a void I didn’t even know existed. “That’s the one,” he growled into my ear. My hips still rocked against him, drawing out my orgasm, my inner walls clenching around him bringing his release to the surface. He stayed gripped to me until his climax ended.

As the fire settled in his eyes, he smiled and lightly kissed his way until he hovered just above my lips. With tired muscles, I lifted myself to meet him, giving him one last kiss before we fell back.

After a few minutes, he rolled over, lifting himself from the bed toward the bathroom. “Come on.” He gestured for me to follow him.

“I can’t,” I mumbled.

“Why not?” He turned to look at me; his eyes danced, his smile bright and mischievous.

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