Chapter 6: Fingers First
The heavy hotel door slammed behind them, echoing in the opulent foyer of their suite. Rome’s twilight glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but neither Pedro nor Rina saw it. The charged energy from the Spanish Steps hadn’t dissipated; it had intensified, condensed into the narrow space between their bodies. The cool marble underfoot, the distant hum of the city, the faint scent of expensive linen – all faded into white noise.
He didn’t even let her take off her sandals. His hands were on her the moment they crossed the threshold, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his chest. His lips crashed down on hers, hungry, demanding, a stark contrast to the tender kiss shared atop the city. She moaned into his mouth, her own hands flying to tangle in his salt-and-pepper hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp. The taste of him – coffee, Rome, and pure, unadulterated desire – flooded her senses.
"Pedro," she gasped, breaking the kiss only long enough to breathe his name before his mouth reclaimed hers. His hands roamed possessively, sliding down her spine, gripping her hips, pulling her closer still. She felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently against her stomach through his trousers and the thin fabric of her sundress. Her own arousal, already simmering from his fingers on the Steps, flared into a desperate ache.
Fingers fumbled with the delicate straps of her dress. He pushed the fabric roughly over her shoulders, letting it pool around her waist before yanking it down her legs. She stepped out of it, kicking it aside, standing before him in just her simple white cotton tank top and matching lace panties. The cool air of the suite kissed her exposed skin, raising goosebumps, instantly chased away by the heat radiating from him.
"Fuck, Rina," he growled, his voice a low rasp thick with need. His gaze burned over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts beneath the thin cotton, the outline of her nipples pebbled hard against the fabric, the damp patch already darkening the front of her panties. "Couldn't wait. Needed you. Now."
He didn't ask. He scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, and carried her swiftly towards the vast bed. He deposited her not gently, but with a possessive urgency, onto the plush duvet. Before she could shift, he was on her, his weight settling between her legs, his mouth claiming hers again in a ferocious kiss that stole her breath. His hands were everywhere – cupping her face, sliding down her neck, tracing the curve of her shoulder.
He broke the kiss, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, scraping his stubble deliberately against the sensitive skin, making her gasp and arch. His hands slid under the hem of her tank top, palms rough and warm as they swept up her ribs, finding her breasts still confined in her bra. He squeezed, palming the soft weight, his thumbs finding her nipples and rubbing them to even harder points through the lace. A low groan rumbled in his chest.
"Want these," he murmured against her collarbone, his fingers hooking into the tank top straps. He pulled them down her arms, trapping them just above her elbows. The cool air hit her exposed skin again, followed immediately by the searing heat of his mouth closing over one nipple. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking the rigid peak, teeth grazing lightly. She cried out, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking friction.
He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devastating attention, his free hand kneading the one he'd just abandoned. The combined sensation – the wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of lace and stubble, the firm pressure of his hand – sent jolts of pure electricity straight to her core. She was panting, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, her head thrashing on the pillow.
"Pedro... please..." Her plea was a ragged whisper, barely audible.
He raised his head, his eyes dark, dilated pools reflecting the low lamplight. A predatory smile touched his lips as he saw her disheveled state – tank top bunched under her arms, breasts flushed and glistening with his saliva, chest heaving. "Please what, princesa?" His voice was gravel. "Tell me."
She didn't need to. His gaze dropped to the damp patch on her panties, a visible testament to her need. He shifted lower on the bed, his hands sliding down her abdomen, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. He didn't remove them. Instead, he pulled them aside, exposing her completely.
The cool air hit her slick folds, making her gasp. Then his mouth was there.
He didn't tease. He buried his face between her thighs, his tongue finding her clit immediately with ruthless precision. A long, low groan escaped him, vibrating against her most sensitive flesh.
"Christ, you're fucking soaked," he growled, the words muffled against her. "Still dripping from the Spanish Steps?" He didn't wait for an answer, his tongue delving deep, licking broad, flat strokes from her entrance up to her clit, circling it tightly.
Rina cried out, back arching violently off the bed. It was too much and not enough all at once. The direct assault on her clit, combined with the sheer eroticism of him feasting on her while she was still partially clothed – tank top rucked up, panties stretched taut and pulled aside – was overwhelming. His stubble scratched the delicate skin of her inner thighs, a delicious counterpoint to the wet heat of his tongue.
His hands weren't idle. One slid back up her body, fingers pushing the cotton aside roughly to capture her bare breast, kneading, pinching her nipple. The other hand joined his mouth, two fingers sliding into her with shocking ease, encountering no resistance, only slick, welcoming heat. He curled them upwards immediately, finding that spot inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids.
"Oh god! Pedro!" she sobbed, her hips bucking helplessly against his face. "Right there! Fuck, yes! Don't stop!"
He hummed against her clit, the vibration resonating deep within her core. His fingers pumped steadily, curling relentlessly on every inward stroke, while his tongue flicked and circled her clit with maddening, focused intensity. He was relentless, reading the tremors in her thighs, the gasps catching in her throat, driving her higher and higher with every stroke, every suck, every deep, possessive groan he released directly against her flesh.
The wet sounds filled the room – the slick slide of his fingers, the soft sucking of his mouth, her own ragged breaths. Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his dark hair, holding him there, grinding herself against his mouth as the pressure coiled unbearably tight deep in her belly. Her world narrowed to the point where his tongue met her clit and his fingers filled her, pushing her towards the precipice with ruthless expertise.
A high, keening whimper tore from her throat, the only warning before the tension shattered. She came with a choked cry, her body convulsing, thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave of raw, pulsing pleasure ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping.
Rina’s thighs finally unlocked from around Pedro’s head as the last tremors subsided, leaving her sprawled and utterly spent on the rumpled duvet. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her skin flushed and slick, the taste of her own release faintly metallic on her bitten lower lip. Pedro lifted his head slowly from between her legs, his chin and the lower half of his face glistening wetly in the low lamplight. His breathing was harsh, his dark eyes, pupils blown wide, fixed on her face with a look of raw hunger that bordered on feral. He looked utterly debauched, her wetness gleaming on his beard, his shirt collar askew, his trousers tented obscenely.
"Fuck, you taste incredible," he rasped, his voice thick and gravelly with lust. Without warning, his strong hands gripped her waist, hauling her limp, trembling body up and into his lap where he knelt on the bed. She gasped at the sudden movement, her breasts pressing against his still-clothed chest. His erection, rock-hard and trapped behind layers of fabric, pressed insistently between her thighs. "Look at you," he growled, his breath hot against her ear, one large hand splaying possessively across her lower back, holding her firmly against him. "Utterly fucking ruined by my mouth."
He captured her face with his other hand, pulling it towards him. Before she could react, his mouth slammed down on hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue thrust deep, demanding entry, forcing her to taste herself – the musky, intimate tang of her own arousal mixed with the faint salt of his skin. It was primal, claiming. She whimpered into his mouth, a sound swallowed by his kiss, her own need coiling back to life despite the recent climax. Her hips instinctively rocked against the hard ridge in his trousers, seeking friction against her still-throbbing clit.
They ground together like that for desperate moments, the rough texture of his wool trousers rasping against her sensitive, naked skin. The damp heat of her core smeared against the expensive fabric, leaving dark, slick patches. She could feel the immense heat and rigidity of him through the layers, feel the way his stomach muscles clenched with every ragged breath he took. His hand slid down from her belly, fingers tangling in the damp curls between her legs, finding her clit still swollen and hyper-sensitive. His touch was electric, sending fresh jolts of pleasure-pain through her oversensitized nerves even as he continued to devour her mouth, his kiss hard and demanding.
"Gonna fuck you now, Rina," he panted against her lips, breaking the kiss but keeping her pinned close. "Need to be inside that perfect cunt." The filthy word, spoken in his deep, graveled voice, made her inner muscles clench on nothing. In one fluid, decisive motion, he gripped her hips and swiftly laid her back down flat on the bed, disentangling himself from her. He stood up beside the bed, his gaze never leaving her sprawled form, his eyes burning with dark intent.
Rina propped herself on her elbows, her sapphire eyes wide and dark with lust. She kept her legs splayed open, the evidence of her arousal glistening on her inner thighs and the trimmed blonde curls. One hand drifted down her body, fingers finding her swollen clit almost immediately. She began to circle it slowly, her gaze locked on him. Pedro wasted no time. His fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, popping them open with impatient jerks, exposing his muscular chest and the trail of dark hair that led beneath his waistband. He shrugged the shirt off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.
His belt buckle clinked, the zipper rasped down loudly in the charged silence of the suite. He shoved his trousers and underwear down his powerful thighs in one forceful push, kicking them aside. His cock sprang free, thick, hard, and flushed dark, the head slick with pre-cum, bobbing heavily against his stomach. His hand wrapped around the base, giving himself a few slow, deliberate strokes, the skin sliding tautly over the rigid shaft. The thick veins pulsed visibly under her hungry gaze. He looked magnificent: powerful shoulders, defined abs, the silver glinting at his temples, and that demanding stare fixed solely on her, on the hand working between her legs.
"Fuck yourself for me," he growled, his own strokes speeding up, his fist pumping slowly, firmly. "Show me how fucking wet you still are." The command, the visual of him standing there naked and hard, stroking himself while watching her touch herself, was intensely erotic. She moaned, low and throaty, her fingers moving faster over her clit, plunging two fingers shallowly into her slick entrance then sliding back up to circle the throbbing bud. The room filled with the wet, sucking sounds of her fingers, the slick slide of his hand on his cock, their ragged breathing.
"Pedro... oh god..." she gasped, arching her back. The coil tightened rapidly, intensely, fueled by his unwavering gaze and the sheer debauchery of the moment. She rubbed her clit in furious circles, her other hand gripping the sheet, eyes fixed on the thick length of him in his fist. Her thighs trembled. "I'm... I'm gonna...!" The peak hit her suddenly, violently. Her head snapped back, a guttural cry ripped from her throat as her body convulsed. Her hips lifted off the bed, her inner muscles clenched rhythmically around her own fingers, fresh wetness gushing over her hand. She rode the wave, shuddering, gasping his name.
Pedro watched her climax with dark satisfaction, a low groan escaping him as her body milked her own fingers. He released his cock, stepping towards the bed as the last tremors shook her. He knelt between her splayed thighs, his hands sliding under her ass, lifting her hips. The broad, slick head of his cock nudged against her soaked, still-quivering entrance. He paused for only a heartbeat, his gaze locked on hers, the promise of possession blazing in his eyes. Then, with a powerful thrust of his hips, he drove himself deep inside her, burying his cock to the hilt in one relentless stroke. A shared, ragged groan filled the room.
The ragged groan hung thick in the Roman air, vibrating with the shock of his sudden, brutal penetration. Pedro was buried impossibly deep inside her, his cock stretching her walls wide, a hot, solid presence that stole her breath. Rina’s eyes flew wide, a choked gasp escaping her lips as her body instinctively clenched around the overwhelming intrusion, trying to accommodate his girth. He held himself utterly still for a suspended second, his own breath catching, muscles coiled like steel cables beneath his sweat-slicked skin, his dark gaze locked onto hers, primal and possessive.
"Fuck, Rina," he rasped, his voice scraped raw. "So fucking tight. So fucking wet." He shifted his grip, powerful hands sliding from beneath her ass to clamp onto her hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of her inner thighs. "Higher," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Wider."
He lifted her legs effortlessly, pushing her thighs high and wide apart, spreading her open completely before him. The angle was sharp, exposing her utterly, forcing her hips off the bed, her slick folds stretched taut around the base of his cock. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every ridge, every inch of him dragging against her sensitized inner walls, the friction exquisite and almost painful. Then, with a guttural sound ripped from his chest, he slammed back in, hard.
The impact jolted through her, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. He didn't pause. He set a punishing rhythm, driving into her with deep, powerful thrusts that hammered against her cervix, each stroke forcing the air from her lungs. The bedframe groaned in protest against the wall. "Take it," he growled, his hips pistoning relentlessly. "Take my fucking cock, princesa." The wet slap of flesh meeting flesh filled the suite, a rhythmic counterpoint to their harsh breathing.
Rina's hands flew to her own body, one gripping the rumpled sheet beside her head, knuckles white, the other diving frantically between her legs. Her fingers found her swollen, throbbing clit, slick with her own arousal and the remnants of his earlier attentions. She rubbed hard, desperate circles over the hypersensitive bud, the dual assault of his relentless pounding deep inside and the frantic stimulation on her clit pushing her towards the edge with terrifying speed. "Pedro! Oh god, Pedro!" she gasped, her voice breaking. "Right there! Fuck! Don't stop!"
Her inner muscles began fluttering wildly around his driving cock, a frantic, involuntary pulse signaling her impending climax. He felt it, snarling low in his throat, his thrusts becoming even harder, deeper, impossibly demanding. "Come," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Come on my fucking cock."
Her body arched violently off the bed, a raw, guttural scream ripped from her throat as her orgasm detonated. Wave after wave of blinding, convulsive pleasure crashed through her, her cunt clamping down hard on his shaft in rhythmic pulses, milking him fiercely as she shuddered uncontrollably beneath him.
Pedro groaned, deep and ragged, his hips stuttering as her inner walls squeezed him relentlessly. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched tight, fighting his own release.
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, watching her face contort in ecstasy, her body tremble through the aftershocks. "Good girl. Fucking perfect." He held himself deep within her pulsing heat for a few more agonizing seconds, savoring the clenching grip of her orgasm. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he pulled his cock out abruptly, the sudden emptiness making Rina whimper.
Before she could register the loss, he was moving. He surged forward, crawling over her trembling body, his knees bracketing her hips. His hands shot out, pinning her wrists firmly to the mattress above her head, his weight pressing her down into the soft duvet. His cock, slick and glistening with her juices, bobbed heavily against her stomach, still rigid and demanding. His eyes, dark and predatory, locked onto her dazed, flushed face.
"Open," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He shifted his grip, freeing one hand to grasp the base of his cock. He guided the thick, flushed head towards her parted lips. She saw the determination in his gaze, the raw need. Obediently, instinctively, she opened her mouth wider, tilting her head back slightly. He didn't hesitate. He pushed forward, sliding the broad head past her lips and onto her tongue.
The taste of herself, salty and musky, flooded her mouth. He pushed deeper, the thick shaft stretching her jaw wide. "Suck," he growled, his fingers tightening on her wrists. She tried, her tongue swirling tentatively around the invading hardness. But he wasn't waiting. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he drove his cock deeper into her mouth, forcing himself past the back of her tongue.
The intrusion was sudden, brutal. Her throat convulsed violently as the thick head hit her gag reflex. A choked, wet gurgle escaped her, tears springing instantly to her eyes. Saliva pooled uncontrollably, dripping down her chin. He held himself there for a second, buried deep in her throat, feeling the desperate flutter of her muscles against the sensitive head. "Fuck," he groaned, the sound strained. He pulled back slightly, letting her gasp a ragged breath, tears tracking down her temples.
Then he thrust forward again, hard, burying himself to the hilt in her throat. She gagged violently, her body jerking against his restraining grip, her eyes streaming. He began a relentless rhythm, fucking her mouth with deep, forceful strokes, each one forcing his cock down her throat, triggering her gag reflex with every inward plunge. The wet, choking sounds filled the room – desperate gags, strained groans from Pedro, the slick slide of his shaft against her saliva-coated lips and throat. Her nose pressed against the coarse hair at his base with each deep thrust. He pinned her wrists firmly, his hips pistoning, his gaze fixed on her tear-streaked face, lost in the raw, obscene sensation of her throat struggling to take him.