“Fuck. I need to be deeper.” He released my throat and turned me around, kissing me again. His tongue invaded my mouth with the same aggression and dominance as his thrusts. He lifted me up and carried me to the suite’s bedroom. He placed me on the bed and stepped back to remove his shirt, and then his slacks.

  My eyes followed his every move, devouring the sight of his perfect, sculpted body. The way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he undressed himself was a sight to behold. It was a spectacle of raw masculinity. As soon as he was unclothed, he was reaching for me, dragging me to the very edge of the bed. He forced my hips to lift as he placed my legs on his shoulders. He was back inside me on my next breath, fucking me so hard I thought I was going to break apart. There was no relief from the pressure or how full I felt, he held me firmly in place. My hands clutched the sheets, my knuckles turning white with the force of my grip. I cried out his name and pleaded for him to stop, but he ignored my protests. It was as if he thrived on my pain, my resistance only fueling his desire to conquer me.

  His rhythm became more unrelenting, his thrusts more brutal, as if he was trying to break me, to claim me completely. The room was filled with the sounds of our passion, and I found myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Part of me hated him for this, for the way he was taking me without care for my feelings. Another part had my pussy growing slick around him because of the way he was using me. There was nothing sentimental between us—just him wielding his power over me, and me being forced to take everything he gave.

  His eyes locked onto mine, a mixture of lust and dominance in them. I felt powerless beneath him, my body responding to the brutal pounding he was giving me. My cries of pain and pleasure were muffled by my own moans as my body shook uncontrollably. I was going to come. I couldn't believe the intensity of the emotions coursing through me. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, about to tumble into an abyss of pure ecstasy. The man above me, with his rough, dominating demeanor, was driving me to the brink of insanity. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or beg him to stop.

  “Look at us,” he demanded.

  I glanced down at the sight of our bodies entwined, his cock thrusting deep within me, covered in juices and tinges of blood. There was no denying the intense pleasure I was feeling, despite the pain that accompanied it. There was something almost primal about the way we were connecting. He slipped my legs from his shoulders and hooked them over his forearms, allowing him to come closer and drive even deeper. I let out a gasp, feeling his dick hit a spot inside me that had my toes curling. I dug my nails into his shoulders, desperate to keep myself grounded, even as my body was careening toward a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. His eyes never left mine, gauging my reactions, feeding off my desperation, and he moved his hips in time with my quickened breaths. The air around us crackled with electricity as the night grew darker outside. It briefly filtered through my mind this wasn’t solely about pleasure for him. He was diligently studying me, observing every twitch, every flush, every gasp, to gain more control over me. It made the situation even more suffocating, knowing that even in the throes of passion, he maintained his dominance. I struggled to stifle my cries of pleasure-turned-pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly his assault was affecting me.

  I could feel my body tightening, the sensation building, a world away from the pain I had been experiencing just moments ago. I could see the victory in his eyes, his triumph in this game of control. A small part of me wanted to reach out to him, to beg him to stop, to make it easier, but another part of me wanted to keep playing this dangerous game. I wanted to see just how far he would push me, how far I could let him take me. My hands clawed at his back and shoulders, leaving deep marks that I knew would bruise in the morning. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip to keep from crying out, but it was no use. A loud wail tore from my throat as I climaxed, my body shaking beneath him. He groaned; his own release imminent. He thrust once, twice, three times, each time hitting that spot deep within me that sent waves of pleasure cascading through me like a tidal wave.

  He didn’t waste any time pulling out of me. His lips crushed against mine and he maneuvered my body so that my head was where my pussy had been, the comforter beneath me drenched. “Suck,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. I hesitated for a moment, my mind still reeling and my chest still heaving. I finally relented and opened my mouth to take him in. His length slid between my lips, and I could taste us mingled together – a salty, sweet concoction that made my stomach churn with a mixture of disgust and arousal. He wasn’t hard anymore, but he was still long and thick. I had never done this before, never let anyone come in my mouth, but something about the power dynamic at play made me feel daring and defiant. I worked my lips over him, sucking and stroking, running my tongue over the veins and ridges while he moaned above me.

  “Faster,” he ordered calmly, his hands threading through my hair, guiding my movements. I obeyed, picking up speed, my jaw tightening as I struggled to keep up with the intensity of his reactions. His cock began hardening again, growing bigger than it already was. I coughed around him. He laughed and thrust deeper, groaning when I choked. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice laced with both satisfaction and harshness. My eyes were watering, turning him into a blur. He grew harder and abruptly pulled out of my mouth; the tip still wet from my efforts.

  He looked down at me and cupped my face. “You’re going to turn around now. I want your legs spread and your ass up.”

  My eyes widened. He wanted to keep going? “No, Mateo—.”

  “It wasn’t a question.” He flipped me onto my stomach and lifted my hips. I bit back a whimper as he spread my legs wider and positioned himself at my entrance. I felt the familiar pressure as he pushed inside me. I fisted the sheets and breathed through it, my pussy clenching around his cock. "You’re so tight,” he muttered, pulling my hips back and then forward again. His movements were slow and deliberate, the feeling of being filled with him overwhelming. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to process what was happening, but the sensations were too intense. He continued forcing me to meet his thrusts until I was doing it myself.

  "That's it," he hissed, as his hands left my hips to grip my thighs, pulling me back against him. "You’re taking it so good, anjinho." Each slap of his hips against my ass echoed through the room, a cacophony of flesh on flesh punctuating the air. My breaths were coming in ragged, moaned gasps.

  His hands suddenly left my thighs, only to return to my hair and throat, grabbing and pulling me back against him until he was so deep in my pussy that I felt like I could feel him in my stomach. I cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, my voice echoing through the room. "Harder," I begged, surprising myself. Mateo chuckled darkly at my plea. With a sudden, crushing force, he slammed into me, taking me to the very edge of my limits. My entire body shuddered, and I screamed into the sheets, reaching blindly for purchase. He was relentless, his every thrust punctuated by the sounds of our bodies colliding, a primal, carnal symphony. “Oh, God.” I gasped and moaned, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure and pain through my entire being.

  My clit throbbed, desperate for attention, but Mateo's relentless pace seemed to be more focused on my discomfort than my arousal.

  “Gods not here, baby," he rasped, his cock driving deep into me with each definitive sweep. "It's just me and you, you and me, forever. And the only worshipping you’ll be doing is for me."

  His declaration sent shivers down my spine, and I suddenly felt a new kind of heat between my legs. My wetness grew, and I realized that I was close. So close. He pulled my hair tighter, making me wince in pain, but it only fueled my arousal further. He whispered dirty, forbidden things into my ear, savoring the way my body responded to his every command. He reached around and began caressing my clit with his slick fingers. At first, my body tensed at the unexpected touch, but then a shockwave of pleasure burst through me. Mateo's fingers moved in rhythm with his thrusts, hitting all the right spots, and sending my arousal into overdrive.

  I couldn't help but moan, the sound reverberating through the room. My hips bucked against him, desperate for more. I came hard. "Oh, God," I cried out, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the experience. "Yes, please, yes.”

  Mateo's satisfied laugh echoed through the room as he continued his relentless rhythm. My body was on fire, trembling uncontrollably as I felt another orgasm building. This time, I didn't want it to stop, I wanted it to consume me, to take me to new heights. As he moved faster, I begged for more, each plea more desperate than the last.

  "Please, harder, Mateo." My voice was hoarse, an echo of my desperate need. His response was to thrust even harder, each movement driving me closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure-pain mix was overwhelming, and I couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. He chuckled again, and without pulling out, flipped me so that I was on my back. "You want it harder, anjinho?"

  "Yes, harder," I moaned, my voice filled with need.

  He took advantage of my vulnerability and seized the opportunity to claim me fully. Each thrust was harder, rougher than before, as he took what he wanted from me. The pain and pleasure coalesced into one all-consuming sensation, and I found myself lost in it. I clawed at his back, leaving red marks on his skin, but he didn't seem to mind. He was too caught up in our shared ecstasy to care. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding and our ragged breaths, punctuated by the occasional slap of skin on skin. I didn't care who might hear us; I was lost in the moment. My eyes rolled back in my head as the intensity increased.

  As Mateo continued to thrust, his eyes locked onto mine with a feral intensity that made my pussy clench even tighter. "That's it, anjinho," he growled, his accent thick and sexy. "Take it, let me feel you shatter around me."

  I cried out, my body heating up with waves of pleasure. I felt the orgasm building deep inside me, threatening to consume me whole. I clawed at his slick back, needing to feel his skin against mine, to be closer to him.

  Mateo's eyes never left mine, his gaze intense and filled with desire. He thrust harder, deeper, his movements rough and possessive. I felt myself slipping further and further into the abyss, each thrust drawing me closer to the edge. My moans became louder, and my body arched, begging for more.

  "I'm going to come, Mateo," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't stop, don't stop."

  Mateo's smile grew wider, his eyes flashing with triumph. “let me hear you scream my name."

  I couldn't hold back any longer. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting him deeper. “Mateo!" I moaned his name, my voice echoing in the room as my orgasm finally hit me. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, and I clawed at his back, feeling him shudder as he thrust into me. Mateo's breath hitched, his movements stuttering for just a moment before he regained control. His dark hair was disheveled, a light sweat trickling down his neck. His muscles tensed and flexed with each powerful thrust, his gaze piercing and intense. The scent of sex filled the air, mingling with the musky aroma of Mateo's cologne. He still had this air of calculated control as he moved inside me.

  “Fuck," he growled, "you feel so fucking good."

  I reached up to touch his face, to feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. "Mateo," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of our heavy breathing.

  He growled, his eyes darkening as he thrust into me, his hips driving us both closer to the edge. "Say my name again," he demanded, his voice rough and deep.

  I did, and the sound of my voice seemed to push him closer. He leaned down, his mouth capturing mine in a searing kiss. He thrust into me with newfound urgency, his movements forceful as if he was trying to break something, to leave his mark on me. I thought he’d finish soon, but he kept going, fucking me until I felt boneless and could no longer string together a sentence or feel my legs. I asked him to stop, the word a weak plea as he continued making me come—the pleasure almost painful now. I surpassed being able to handle more but had no choice but to endure. I wanted to make him come, my body was screaming for a break. I let out a pained cry, my hands clutching tightly onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything. My body was a mass of sensations—overwhelming and all-encompassing. It was like he was rewiring me, remapping my entire body and mind.

  He braced himself with one hand beside my head and hooked my leg over his arm, fucking me at a new angle. “Touch yourself.”

  “I-I can’t,” I rasped, the thought of coming again too much to bear.

  “You will."

  I hesitated, but the intensity in his eyes urged me on. Gingerly, I brought my hand down between us, expelling a shaky breath when my fingertips skimmed over my clit.

  My touch became more confident, my fingers moving in small, firm circles. I could feel the tightness in my core building, a heat spreading from my center outwards. I moaned softly, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the pleasure intensified.

  "You're so fucking beautiful,” he intoned. "Fuck, yes," he murmured, his grip on my thigh tightening. "I want to feel that pussy squeezing me."

  I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze again. My breath hitched, and I knew I was close. I quickened my pace, pleasure and need coursing through my veins. He matched my movements with a fierce intensity. "That's it," he praised.

  "Oh God," I gasped, my mind hazy with pleasure. I could feel his eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze intensifying the sensations coursing through me. I pressed harder against myself, my breaths shallow and ragged. A shudder ran through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to take it anymore. He thrust harder, and I could feel him hitting that spot inside me, the one that sent me spiraling over the edge. A cry escaped my lips, my body trembling uncontrollably as another wave of pleasure washed over me.

  “Goddamn, I'm going to come.” He thrust once, twice, his breath hitched and his eyes locked onto mine. A fierce intensity consumed his gaze, and I could feel him tensing. I whimpered, clutching the sheets as his movements became erratic, his hips pounding into me. He groaned, his body stiffened, and then he was coming. I felt it, a warm surge within me, and I let out a soft cry. I watched him, his mask slipping enough to reveal a look of bliss. Without a word, he lowered my leg and pulled out of me. I exhaled slowly, my body still trembling. He looked down at me, still not speaking, his expression inscrutable once again. His hand softly caressed my cheek, brushing a lock of hair away from my face. It was a rare show of tenderness from him.

  He withdrew and stood up, reaching down to pick me up as if I weighed nothing. I didn’t have the energy to protest. I rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me to the bathroom. He set me down gently on the cold tile floor, and I shuffled over to the toilet, feeling weak and spent. I was grateful it was behind its own door. I doubted he would’ve given me the privacy to pee. As I relieved myself, I winced at how sore I was and looked between my legs. I saw a mixture of blood and fluids, and my labia felt raw and swollen. I wiped myself gingerly, trying to be as gentle as possible.

  I heard the sound of the shower running and was suddenly desperate for the warm water, despite how exhausted I felt. I sat on the toilet for a moment, catching my breath, before I stood up and left the tiny room of peace. Mateo was waiting for me, the steamy air offering a welcome contrast to the chilly bathroom. He reached for my hand and led me into the large space. A sigh left my lips the second the multiple shower heads rained heated water down on me. I closed my eyes and savored the moment, the warm water massaging my sore muscles and the pulsing shower heads enveloping me in a cocoon of comfort. Mateo's strong arms wrap around me from behind, his hands gently caressing my hips. His breath was warm against my neck, and I could feel his heartbeat against my back.

  "Are you alright?" he asked in a soft voice I didn’t trust.

  I wasn’t remotely alright, but I was learning to compartmentalize. I nodded, trying to get lost in the sensations of the shower. "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore."

  “You’ll get used to it.” He continued to hold me close, his grip comforting but also a silent reminder of his control. As the warm water continued to cascade down on us, I felt a blend of pain and revulsion. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes again, leaning against him not for comfort, but because I was so fucking exhausted.

  Mateo's hands slowly moved down towards my lower abdomen, tracing the delicate curve of my hips, and then dipping lower still. I tensed, unsure of what his next move would be, silently pleading for him to stop there. His fingers ghosted over my swollen labia, tracing the folds gently. A shiver ran through me, a mix of dread and submission. When he didn’t take it any further, I had to suppress a sigh of relief.

  I slowly began to relax, the warm water still showering down on us. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, his strong hands still holding me close. The moment stretched on, suspended in time like a delicate bubble on the verge of bursting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The insistent buzzing of my phone pulled me from a deep, dreamless sleep. My hand fumbled over the sheets until I wrapped my fingers around the device. Groggily, I lifted my head, squinting at the screen. The floor-to-ceiling drapes were partially drawn, but not enough to block out the unexpected morning sun.

  "Peyton," I murmured, my voice hoarse from sleep. My body ached in a way that reminded me of the intense night before, and I winced as I tried to clear my throat. "Hello?" I croaked out, the sound grating even to my own ears.

  "Are you still in the suite?" His voice was sharp, tinged with an urgency that jolted me further awake.