Page 97 of Raspados & Regret

I do. He’s flushed, sweaty, and wrecked. His legs are spread wide around my hips. His dick lies heavy against his stomach, still leaking, and his eyes—fuck, his eyes are so soft I could drown in them.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that. I might—I don’t know how to—what if I⁠—”

He pulls me down by the neck until our foreheads touch.

“Escúchame,” he breathes. “Me vas a coger tan rico, papi. You hear me? You’re going to feel everything, and I’m going to feel everything, and it’s going to be perfect because it’s you.”

My throat closes. Nobody has ever said me fucking them was going to be perfect. Not my ex or any other woman I’ve fucked in my life… this is different.

“Now stop thinking,” he whispers, “and fuck me.”

I pause, squeezing more lube into my palm before tossing the bottle aside, coat my dick, then press in. Slow. So slow I can feel every inch of myself becoming someone else.

No.

Not someone else.

More myself.

Elías’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. His hands fly to my shoulders, his short nails biting hard enough to bruise. His legs tighten around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I feel it—the moment the resistance gives, the slick heat of him surrounding me, the impossible tightness.

And the metal.

He feels it. I know he does—his eyes go wide, shocked, and his whole body shudders.

“Wait,” he gasps. “Wait, I can feel—the bar⁠—”

I freeze, worried that it’s too much. “Stop?”

He shakes his head fast, hair messy against the pillow. “No. No, it’s—” He clenches experimentally, and we both groan, too loudly, freezing again. “Fuck. It’s there. Every time you move, I can feel it.”

“Is that bad?” I ask, looking down to where I’m buried inside him. “Should I take it out?”

His laugh is breathless, broken. “No. Fuck, no. It’s—” He arches his hips, taking me deeper, and his head falls back. “It’s perfect. Perfecto, cariño. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

I hold still, and every muscle in my body screams. The piercing makes everything sharper. Hotter. Too much and not enough. The feeling of him around me is unreal. Tight and slick all in the same stroke. Elías beneath me. Elías has me inside him and looks at me like he knows exactly what I’m feeling and wants me to feel all of it.

I thought I would panic, and maybe I am a little. But not the way I expected. I’m not scared because he is a man. I’m scared because it feels good.

It feels right.

My body’s finally telling the truth so clearly there is no way to pretend I misheard it.

Elías opens his eyes. “You’re shaking again, cariño.”

“So are you.”

He laughs, quiet and breathless. “We keep doing that.”

“Yeah.”

His hand slides to my cheek.