His eyes rolled back into his head and he said with a groan, “You are greedy too.”
I bit my lip then shot him a coy look as I started to pull his pants off. “You bet I am.” I looked down and immediately dropped to my knees, pushing the grass out of the way. I pulled his pants off, then ran my fingers underneath the band of his underwear. I was right—they weren’t David Beckham’s, but they were black boxer briefs and showcased the hot little ridge of his hipbones. I quickly ran my tongue over one, tasting the salt on him.
“You are torturing me,” he said in a hushed tone. “La tortura.”
“Bueno.” I grinned. I slowly peeled them off until his cock was in full view. It was impressive—beautifully cut, thick girth, nice length, his hair trimmed. I put my hands under his balls and felt the weight of them. I loved doing that. I also noticed that he had no tan lines. He must sunbathe in the nude.
Jesus, that image was almost as hot as the one in my hands.
Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than for him to be inside of me, and from his rigid length, I knew he felt the same. I started with my mouth. I took his cock in my hand and placed him through my moistened lips, my other hand grabbing onto the firm roundness of his ass. I dug my nails in as he twisted his hands into the thick of my hair and pulled gently. I loved the feel of him, the taste of him, too much. Before I realized it, I was moving fast, wanting nothing more for him to come in my mouth, that I almost forgot about myself.
“Alto,” he hissed, regressing to his Spanish. I wasn’t about to correct him. He could speak Spanish to me all he wanted. “Alto, por favor.”
I slid him out of my lips and gazed up at him with a coquettish smile. “Is this turning you on?”
His eyes blazed as he stepped back and kicked off his pants, briefs, socks, and shoes until he was totally naked, so wonderfully sleek and bronzed, his well-trained muscles primed for vigorous activities. I remained on my knees, watching in awe as he stared down at me.
“I am used to being in charge,” he said. Then he dropped to the ground, ripped my tank top over my head and undid my bra in seconds flat. His eyes feasted on my breasts for a long moment before he pushed me back, the long grass folding under my bare body, and he hiked up my skirt until it was around my hips. I watched as his eyes widened at the sight of me, my legs spread in the stark sunshine with no underwear and a Brazilian wax.
“Bella,” he murmured huskily, sliding his hands down my thighs toward the inside. A pair of hands never felt so good, especially when they found my folds and began to ease themselves into me. “Bella Estrella.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the grass, feeling so unbelievably turned on and free. And as scary as it was to be doing this with Mateo, to be so open, so exposed, so vulnerable in so many ways, I felt safe. I knew deep down it was just for the moment. I knew the aftermath would be painful. For now, in the grass, with his fingers fucking me deep inside, I was in his hands and I knew no hurt could come to me.
He made the come hither motion on the mound of my g-spot and I found myself clenching around his finger, begging for more, for all of him.
“Wait,” I said with a breathy moan. I pointed over to my purse that I had tossed on the ground. I momentarily wondered if I had damaged my Kindle when I threw it but I didn’t give a fuck. I only gave a fuck about fucking. “I have a condom in my purse.”
His raised his brows in surprise. “I can assure you I am clean.”
I gave him a promising smile. “And I am on the pill. But I like to be extra careful.” And definitely at first, when I don’t really know everything about a guy’s past and when I’m leaving him forever in a few days. No one wants an STD or a baby as a souvenir.
Mateo nodded, understanding my concern, and in moments he was sliding the condom over his cock. God, it was beautiful; he was beautiful. Especially when he stroked himself, his eyes closed, his lip curled in pure pleasure. So fucking hot.
“Are you going to fuck me or what?” I asked, my fingers rubbing at my clit, my patience running thin as I swelled thick.
His eyes snapped open, his smile deliciously devious. “I told you I was in charge,” he growled. He removed my hand and placed it behind his ass and leaned over me, guiding his cock inside me. I expanded for him as he slowly, deliciously, plunged in to the hilt.
His tongue lapped and teased at my nipples as one hand squeezed and kneaded my breasts, the other hand back behind my neck, holding me in place. I didn’t know it was possible for me to almost come from nipple stimulation, but I was gasping and moaning until his hand went down to my clit and his lips came up to mine. Our kiss built with the pace of his thrusts, slow at first, then faster, wetter, frenzied.
When I was almost pushed over the edge, my hands gripping his ass so tight, driving him in deeper, my heels digging into the sweaty small of his back, he groaned into my mouth and pulled away until he was staring at me. There was a heady kind of madness in their depth, like the lust was driving him insane.
“In Spain, we both fuck and make love at the same time,” he grunted. “You need to look at me, Vera. You need to stay connected to me, stay with me.”
That was something else new to me. I didn’t make a lot of eye contact during sex. It made it too intimate, too…meaningful. I never wanted any of that—until now.
I swallowed, finding my breath, and let him stare right into my eyes. After a while though, I started really staring back at him. I returned the intimacy he was giving me, looking deeper and deeper until I thought I saw the universe, our universe, being created. I was so turned on and in so deep that I could have been on drugs.
The image of our lovemaking burned into my brain. The blue blue sky behind his head, his dark hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, the golden grass laid out at our sides, my inked skin beneath his rich bronze, the sunshine washing us in its heat.
I’ll never forget this, I told myself. Never.
And that’s when it started to hit me. The combination of the mounting orgasm, the beautiful pleasure that Mateo was gifting me, the intensity and intimacy of our locked gaze. All of it began to smash into my heart, smash into my soul, letting my feelings for him flow out. I felt flooded with love, big, burning, bright love, filled to the brim and ready to burst out of me, to erode those walls that I’d put up and ensure they’d never go back up again.
Seconds later, I came and came hard. My orgasm ripped through me, shockwaves and tremors and ripples that satiated every crevice of my body. I cried his name in release, my voice drifting into the air. The flood took over and tears began to fall out of my eyes as they rolled back, staring at the sky, at the day moon that was hanging in the still blue.
“Estrella,” Mateo whispered huskily as he kept pounding me, driving himself to completion. “My Estrella.”
I recovered enough to tilt my head and look at him as he came. His eyes, too, were wet and shiny, a look of shock and wonder on his handsome face until his lips curled in a groan, his face contorted with the agony of pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut to keep all the senses in. He cried out, low and primal. His body slowed the push and pull into me and I held him tighter between my legs.
Eventually, he collapsed onto his elbows, his sweaty chest pressing against mine, his fingers nestled in the hair at my temples. His thumbs caressed my cheekbones, wiping away the tears I didn’t know were still there. Our eyes were fixed to one another’s, addicted to the view of seeing each other so clearly.