Page 38 of The Killer Card

“Please—” He gasps, fingers digging into my hips. He thrusts instinctually, seeking to bury himself deep in my heat. “Coño, Naomi, por favor…”

I relax my hips, leaning forward just enough that when his hips twitch next his tip slides inside. Both of us moan at the long-awaited joining of his body with mine. The stretch of him is almost too much but he goes slow, pushing in inch by exquisite inch, both of us savoring the glide. Eventually he’s sheathed completely, my hips flush with his, and for a moment I do nothing but sit there, hands resting on his abs.

“Toda una reina en su trono.”

His hands glide down my thighs, then back up to hold my hips again. He pulls out slowly, ripping a gasp from my lungs. My nails leave divots in his skin.

“Eres tan hermosa que debería ser un pecado mirarte.”

He pulls out, pushing back in harder, deeper. God, I don’t know what he’s saying but the feel and the sound of his breathless murmurings makes me clench so tight he groans.

“Algún día el diablo vendrá a buscarme por desearte tanto.”

I’m left panting on his third thrust, so slick from wanting him, already closer to the edge than I’ve ever been with a man in my life.

Wrapping a hand around his throat, I pull him in for a searing kiss, warning him between teeth and tongues, “Stop trying to top from the bottom.” His hips instantly still, his cock throbbing inside me, so thick I’ll be feeling him for days after this. “You come when I say you can, do you understand?”

“Coño, sí.” He’s apparently reached the point where he’s incapable of English, his native tongue taking over as his mind succumbs to sub space. “Haz conmigo lo que quieras, mi reina.”

I’ve learned enough Spanish over these months of Sunday dinners and late nights at El Rincón to know when he tells me yes and calls me his queen. Those three words are all the consent I need to start riding him, rising all the way to his tip and falling back down with enough momentum to have us both cursing at the ceiling. With every stroke I bring down my swollen bud against his pubic bone and it’s not enough. I find myself wishing for his lips, his tongue, even his fingers—

“Yes—”

My lips fall open and I look down at him with wide eyes when he snakes his hand between us, thumbing my clit expertly in time with the rise and fall of my hips. My walls spasm around him, the peak he has introduced me to so fucking close I can feel it rippling down my spine.

My hand tightens around his throat. “Don’t stop- God, Graham, don’t fucking stop—”

Graham throws his head back into the pillows, biting back a deep moan. He’s close, he’s been close since we stepped into this apartment, but he’s trying so hard to be good. I told him not to come until I said so, and he will follow my orders or die trying.

When the dam inside me threatens to shatter I take his jaw between my thumb and forefinger, forcing his eyes back to mine. “Come,” I command. He blinks, glancing down at the place where we’re joined, the question in his eyes obvious. “I have an IUD,” I confirm. “I want to feel it when you come inside me.”

“Dios mío—” He pants. “Coño- Naomi—”

Graham let’s go with a primal roar, pouring into me so forcefully I can feel it leaking onto my thighs and that’s when I come. For the first time ever, I rupture around throbbing flesh, Graham’s thumb is incessant against my clit until I’m seeing spots in my vision. My grip on his throat loosens, my body going slack over him as my muscles quiver through what feels like an unending torrent of pleasure. I’m panting, I’m cursing, and he’s…

He’s laughing.

His arms are a band around my back, holding my sweaty body against his, but I turn my face so my chin rests against his chest. He only chuckles again at my glare. “What’s so funny?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, mamí.” He brushes one of my braids behind my ear. “I was just waiting for that for so long I’m having trouble processing.”

Smirking, I cross my arms over his chest, raising up as much as my tender strength will allow. He’s still inside me, still half hard. “And? Did it meet your expectations?”

Did I?

Fuck, since when do I lack the confidence to know I satisfied a man beyond his wildest dreams.

Since when has one been able to hold up their end of the deal?

Graham smiles, rubbing at the place on his jaw where I left the crescents of my nails in his skin. “Yes, mi reina. You absolutely did.”

There’s an uncomfortable lurch in my chest, a byproduct of the way he’s looking at me and the way he words his answer. It’s all a little too much. I’m suddenly highly aware of how sticky my thighs are with both our arousal, how sweaty we are as I lay atop him continuing to absorb his heat.

Meanwhile, my best friend is at home, crying her eyes out over a man she desperately wants and won’t let herself have. That man is this man’s best friend. That man is likely- better be- torturing himself, wondering where he went wrong that she girl of his fucking dreams suddenly dropped him like old, molding fruit. And yet, here we are- two of the people they trust more than anyone else in the world- going behind their backs for a quick moment of pleasure.

Because that’s all this was. It was just a moment, a blip in our everyday lives. There’s no scheduled dates or late nights on the couch or—

“You like coffee right? I think I have enough eggs to make you breakfast later. Or we can go get something if you’d prefer?”