My Sinful Valentine (A Beautiful Sinners Collection) Elena Reyes (good story books to read .TXT) 📖

“What does my pretty girl need?” I croon, sliding two fingers through her wetness and back toward her ass, circling the tight little hole. It loosens against my touch, hungry for my cock, but I’ll only tease her today.

Even after all this time, my wife is still too tight for me to take without prepping her there. And when I fuck her ass, a preventable injury will never be associated with the act. Slight discomfort? Yes, but I’d never hurt her for my sick pleasure, and my size and girth will do that if she’s not prepped.

I do, however, slip a single finger inside to the second knuckle and keep it there while delivering two more spankings. “Why are you being punished, linda?”

Sol turns her head slightly in my direction, eyes meeting mine out of the corner of hers, and she bites her bottom lip. “My impure thoughts and actions?”

“What else?”

“I like your handprint on my skin.”

“And?” We both know there is one more thing she’s yet to confess, and I take in the moment it truly hits her. What, or better yet, who she saw before we came up shouldn’t be something I persuade her to share by reddening the perky flesh of her backside. “Tell me.”

“My uncle is in Las Vegas and I’m—”

“You’re always safe with me.” Her head drops in shame, but I’m not having it and I lift her easily to sit in my lap. She’s facing the Las Vegas night sky, her back to my chest with my lips at her ear. Solimar didn’t lie to me, but I know she processes things differently. Her bastard uncle has never been a true part of her life—shunned by both her father and grandfather—but he’s always had a hidden fascination with her, more so after she came of age and Solimar became the perfect way in his eyes to gain retribution. “Miguelino won’t come near you, Mrs. Lucas. Our men have been watching him as we speak, and we will deal with him after. Understood?”

“Si.”

“Good girl.” Kissing the area right below her ear, I breathe her in. We will deal with him later, but first I plan to enjoy her. Enjoy our time together. “Now, you are going to take me out of my pants and rub me against your wet slit. Back and forth, Preciosa. Be a bad girl for me and show me how much you love my cock.”

Shaky hands reach between us as she stands up slightly, giving herself just enough room to undo and lower my pants to just above my knee. Then, she tosses my belt aside and grips my length, taking in just how hard I am.

I’m throbbing in her tiny grasp, and when she runs the bulbous tip—rubbing the bead of pre-come across her heated flesh—I rip my shirt off and massage her back.

Touch and knead. Caress and stroke.

“Fuck, beautiful,” I groan out, clenching my teeth as I watch her hips gyrate to a silent beat as her juices slide down my length. It feels like a filthy caress. Like her personal love letter. “That’s it. Back and forth, Sol. No rush.”

“I love having you in my hand.” She pumps me once, twisting her wrist on the upstroke. “So soft and hard; you’re too big for me to close my fist around.”

“And yet that tiny hole between your thighs welcomes me home without complaint.”

“That’s because I’m your home.”

“You are my everything,” I say against the shell of her ear while she moves above me. Solimar Lucas is the definition of sensuality, a decadent gift I treasure above all others. “Fuck, mamita. You’re so wet. So soft.”

“I need you inside, Alejandro. Please.”

“Good girl.” My teeth nip her neck, soothing the sting with the tip of my tongue. “Always voice your needs. Never hide what you want.”

“All I want is you.”

“Show me.” Those two words were all she needed as Sol holds me against her opening and slowly takes me inside. It’s slow. Agonizingly so.

However, it is the sweetest torture to feel her walls grip me—flutter around my girth as we bottom out. Christ, I’m in deep like this. Love the way her legs shake outside of mine and the feel of her delicious ass as she nestles, rotates her hip once. Then again.

Solimar doesn’t talk, but her whimpers say everything. Each slide down is an I love you. Each ragged breath is an I want only you.

And I return the sentiment with a hand firmly around her throat, squeezing a bit but not enough to cut off her air supply. Just enough to show her that I’m still in charge.

“You feel so good, Preciosa,” I hiss out between clenched teeth when she circles her hips, drawing out each entry and exit. The way her walls grip me is just shy of choking, forcing me to grip her hips and control her movements before I throw her on the ground and fuck her like an animal would its mate.

No finesse. Brutally.

Today of all days, I want to savor her. Draw her pleasure one slow thrust at a time and watch her fall apart with my name on her blissful tongue. Valentine’s Day should be a day of romance, and God knows I’m trying to behave.

Well, as best the devil can. I’ll never be a saint.

“Alejandro, let me—”

“No.” Grip tight, I allow her hips to roll at a slower pace just once and hold her against me. Our bodies are sweaty, drops glistening off our skin, and I lick a path from her neck to collarbone. At this, her muscles contract and I bite back another curse. Instead, I send a silent blessing to God. “Just feel me.”

I lift her up and down. No rush. I’m guiding her movements while watching