The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(30)
“Do not repeat any Spanish you learn from me in the next twenty minutes.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Twenty minutes?”
“I jerked off in the car.” He didn’t look embarrassed by the confession. “And I always last longer the second time.”
She released him to cup a hand to her mouth, unable to believe he just admitted to that. “You did?”
“Yeah, I would’ve blown the second you came against my lips if I hadn’t.” He rolled the condom on himself, still completely unself-conscious. “I know my limits. You push every single one of them.”
She watched the way his hand moved down the thick, tanned length of his cock, feeling breathless again and deciding only Marcos could make putting on a condom sexy like this.
Katie wrapped her legs around him, because she needed him in her, even if it was going to be a tight fit. She hooked her feet in his underwear that were pushed down over the smooth, tight line of his ass. Together they divested him of the rest of his clothes, and then there was just them, skin to skin. Words and humor were gone as quickly as they’d showed up, replaced with a surge of emotion she wasn’t expecting. She caressed his face when he lowered himself over her. He was heavy, the wood was harsh against her back, but she didn’t give a damn about any of it. The fire in those light eyes nearly consumed her as Marcos studied her.
“Katie—” His voice was choked. “I—”
She placed her fingers over his lips before he could finish. She could sense some sort of confession in his voice, and it was too much. She couldn’t hear it. Not if he was planning on leaving in the morning. It was crazy and insane and made about as much sense as any of the rest of it did, but she knew what he was going to say, and she cut him off at the pass.
“Just make me yours,” she pleaded, because she needed it desperately. “That’s what I need right now, Marcos.”
He groaned in defeat and buried his face in the curve of her neck. His lips felt like heaven, making a fresh sheen of pleasure dance over her skin. She turned her head, giving him better access as she traced the muscles of his back and let him work one hand between their naked bodies.
She could feel his cock, hard and ready against her stomach, but he touched her instead. The seduction felt slow, but she knew it was likely as fast as the first time as he teased her and stretched her and made her so wet and needy she no longer cared how big he was.
Katie was shifting and moaning under him, pushing herself up against his hand. If he didn’t do this soon, she was going to come again, and that was simply unacceptable. Usually, she only found a peak like that by herself. Three times under Marcos before he’d even made love to her was too much by anyone’s standards.
She gasped when he rubbed his thumb against her clit, and begged, “Please.”
He stopped touching her and pushed his other hand into her hair, tugging it pointedly and looking down at her again. “I like to watch. I wanna see your face when I take you.”
She closed her eyes, feeling exposed and all the more turned on because of it. “O-okay.”
He shifted over, and Katie helped, arching up when she felt him against her opening, pushing forward in a slow, indulgent claiming. When the broad tip of his cock breeched her, her mouth fell open because it was so much bigger than anything she’d experienced before. It didn’t feel like it should fit, but it did, just as he’d promised. Goose bumps spread over her skin, the pleasure was deeper than before, more potent, and she dug her nails into his shoulders when it started to overwhelm her.
She tried to bite her bottom lip again, but he growled, “No, let me hear it. Let me hear all of it.” He took her the rest of the way in one hard thrust that made her cry out from the surge of ecstasy. “That’s it, chica. Lemme hear you get off on me f*cking you like the sexy bitch you are.”
She gasped at his harsh words, because they made her feel as sexy as Marcos claimed she was, and that had never happened before. He buried his face against her neck again, and then bit hard enough to leave a mark.
The next time he spoke, it was in Spanish, but the words were just as harsh and jagged, breathless and defiantly sexual in a way that was easy to understand, even if she couldn’t translate it.
Then he pulled out and took her again before she could catch her breath. Jesus, the friction was incredible. She really was filled out, and it felt beyond good. She found herself clinging to him as he took her hard, over and over again, making the pleasure build and build until she was dragging her nails down his back and coming before either of them expected it.
He rode out the storm with her, thrusting harder, extending the wild rush of ecstasy so long she was winded and sweaty when it started to wane.
Marcos was still moving, and she realized he hadn’t climaxed with her. His voice was ragged as he made those low, masculine grunts of pleasure against the curve of her neck with every thrust. When he did speak, it was still in Spanish, whispered against her ear like the confessions of a dying man.
She could feel the tension in him, in the muscles flexing under her fingers and the way everything about him seemed coiled tight, like a snake about to strike.
That seemed unfair, and she ran her hands up to his hair. She fisted it and lifted his head to claim his lips in a wild, openmouthed kiss. He pushed his tongue past her lips as he started moving faster, harder. Somehow, one of her knees had become hooked under his arm, leaving her completely open to the thrust of his hips against hers.