Page 156 of Raspados & Regret

His eyes snap to mine. “You sure?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Still just me?” The question is rougher than it needs to be.

Jealous, a little possessive.

Very him.

I smile. “Since yesterday?”

His jaw flexes.

“Elías.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Still just you.”

His face changes at that, and I touch his cheek. “Still just me?”

He looks almost offended. “Yes.”

“Your hand stay loyal?”

That startles a laugh out of him. “Barely. Yesterday there was this fine motherfucker who gave me the best head of my life in a raspado trailer, and I almost dragged him back in there to get him off⁠—”

I pull him down and kiss him, my tongue sliding against his as he tries to practically swallow it.

“Entonces cógeme.”

His breath stops, and I love doing that to him.

“Say that again,” he says.

I grab his back and feel the strong muscles flex under my palms.

“Cógeme.”

His hand wraps around my throat again.

“Ask nicely, muñeco.”

Oh.

The room tilts, and I smile, slow and filthy. “Por favor, papi. Cógeme.”

His eyes go black. “And?”

I know what he wants because I want it too. Because I could feel the shape of it pressing under every joke, every thrust, every time he looked at me like the word “boyfriend” was too much and not enough.

“Fill me again.”

His hand tightens with one careful breath.

“Lalo.”

I push my throat into his palm just enough to make his control flicker. “I need to feel you inside me. Filling me up, then I’ll know I’m yours.”

His hips jerk hard enough that his dick drags against mine and makes us both gasp. He moves off me only long enough to grab the lube from the nightstand. I notice it’s a brand-new bottle, unopened.