Ceo

by Ky Crossfire

— Let go of me, asshole — I whimpered. My clit pulsing between my legs. And he was there, jerking off so hard I wanted to cry. Not by the eyes, pal. I'm talking about another type of crying, if you know what I mean.

  He rubs his cock over my wet panties and with the most brazen look on the planet, he looks at me. His huge hands caress the contour of my face and go down my neck, stop at my breasts, and he squeezes them until I almost yell. Nicolas swallows my moan and kisses me.

  Possessive, unstoppable and devastating. His language surrounds mine, and this is how he begins to devour me, just as he had promised before; little by little, swallowing every breath, moaning, squeezing my flesh a little more, hands going down the contour of my waist.

  He takes my mind off me with a single kiss. Just a kiss, and I have to try hard not to beg him to fuck me already. He devours me with everything. May our fight continue as wildly and madly as possible, with sweaty, hot sex that can make my body tremble.

  Nicolas is the one who will give in. Not me. Never. However, my body reacts on its own and my leg rises, brushing his waist, a silent invitation for him to catch me, press me against the wall and fucks me. Fucks me a lot.

  He deepens the kiss as his hands leave a glowing trail across my skin and grab my thigh. He sucks my tongue and starts to spread kisses and nibbles on my face.

  Every nibble radiates directly into my sex, and I can hardly stand it.

  Ah, damn it.

  — Fuck me, damn it — I beg, rubbing my groin on it, trying to somehow calm the whirlwind of sensation that my body is immersed in.

  — No. — The son of a bitch has the courage to say it while he kisses down to my breasts. His hands go to my back, but he can't open my bra. I just smile. The piece I'm wearing opens at the front.

  — Need any help? — I mock him.

  — Fuck help — he growls in my ear, and I hear him tug the lace on my bra.

  So fucking yummy. So fucking brute.

  He grabs my breasts now totally free and kisses me all over. Suck one nipple at a time, alternating between licks and kisses that make my flesh tremble. Nicolas now spreads small nibbles close to my breasts and goes down my belly to my panties. He smells my sex, his gaze fixed on the little lace triangle that covers my cunt.

  When I think he will slide the last, the bastard simply rips, without mercy, the fine ties of the lingerie. My body vibrates with that rude gesture.

  He brought his mouth close to my clitoris, and I could feel his breath there, at that point that I almost begged to be kissed. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, waiting for the wonderful sensation it was to have Nicolas' beard rubbing against my cunt and the hungry way he would suck me to a climax and then suck every drop, starting over again and, when I couldn't take it anymore, the wolf would devour me.

  Nicolas nibbled on the inside of my thigh and sucked until a purple mark formed on the spot. Shit, I try to push him with my foot, but he gets up and grabs both my legs.

  — If you are not going to fuck me, I will have to ... — I think about throwing more firewood on that stove. — It might be better ... — But he buries the cock in my cunt, and I cry out in pleasure.

  With our bodies perfectly matched and his hard cock deep inside me, he growls in my ear.

  — What part of we are not going to talk you didn't understand? — His hands grab my ass and then, the real torture begins.

  Nicolas starts to fuck me, using his hands to make my hips gets in the same rhythm as his.

  — Let go of me — I beg between one moan and another. Not because I want him to stop, but because I need to scratch him, bite his shoulders and his neck. Not being able to touch him while we are fucking is torture beyond measure. Don’t you agree?

  He ignores my plea and continue to fuck me with no mercy. The sound of the thrusts changes and the noise they make now denounces my warm pleasure by melting all over his cock.

  My clit is still throbbing. My sex is more sensitive and wet, but he thrusts remain vigorous and thirsty.

  — Please, babe ... — I groan when the pleasure reaches the edge of the unbearable.

  He slows down and fucks me slowly, pressing me against the wall, reaching the perfect fit point while he rubs the cock inside me until I come again. With the body close to mine, he continues to fuck until he releases my arms from the chains and slowly lays me in the hay.

  My hands go straight to his hair ... Ah, it’s amazing. It is my turn to touch the contours of his face, to feel his beard against my palm and the tips of my fingers. Is so good. Nicolas takes it slow, alternating the thrusts for slow mops that almost take me to heaven.

  When I peel the lips off his, I say quietly:

  — I love you, Nicolas Reis — I say, immersed in the purest ecstasy that he plunges me into.

  — I know — the bastard responds and I can see a naught smile that melts me when he completes: — But I love more you more.

  Nicolas kisses me and our lips come together, I let myself be devoured, swallowed by this passion in blowing in my chest. It is so intense... without any limits. I feel his cock swell inside me. The rhythm becomes stronger, more in need than before.

  The desire had to come out, voracious and hot as lava. My body ripples under his, and I bite him on the shoulder as he fucks me harder, brighter, more mine. We came together whispering obscenities, exchanging caresses until, still attached, he places a kiss on my lips. And another. The more he kisses me, the more my need increases. Carefully, he comes out of me and pulls me against his chest, snuggling me into his embrace.

  My heart does somersaults in my chest. "But I love you more." I remember the words he said and smile.

  Nicolas's hand stops at my breast, and he feels it and plays with my hardened nipple.

  — Will you ever stop? — I scold without much conviction.

  — No, I won’t. — He keeps his hand on my boobs. — Because you are mine. All mine.

  I keep quiet, but not for long.

  — You know you owe me a new bra and panties.

  — In my defense, that lint could not be called panties. I barely put my hand up and it ripped.

  I pinch his muscular chest, and he laughs.

  — Oh, c’mon. — I protested. — You ripped it up.

  He shakes his head as he was offense.

  — That was to thin, period. A beautiful thread panty adorning your delicious ass.

  I roll my eyes.

  — But what about the bra? — I insist. - Will you say it was a thread too?!

  — No. The bra I really wanted to tear apart — he speaks in the biggest idiot face and continues to caress my boobs.

  I give a punch on his chest.

  — Nobody tells you to wear these things when I'm around. When I’m here, you don't need to use any of that.

  — Oh, okay, just because you want to — I mock.

  Nicolas releases my breast, and his hand lifts my chin to face him.

  — What do I need to make you give up this absurd idea of being a model? — He brings up the subject again.

  — Nothing, Nicolas. I will use the money I get from the photos to open my bakery.

  He snorts angrily.

  — God dammit, I already said I'll be your investor! — he swears angrily. - Do you want me to die when those photos start appearing on billboards?

  He lets go of my face and runs a hand through my hair.

  — What if you have be in a runaway? You know I can't handle this.

  — You mean that your love for me depends on my profession? – I say.

  He is silent.

  — No — he says. — But I'm fucking jealous! No, I'm not jealous. It’s your fault. And, if I have a heart attack, I will have it engraved on my headstone: If you want to know the cause of death, ask for the heartless honeybun.

  — Your ass, Nicolas! – I shout. He knows how much that nickname pisses me off. - I'll get a ridiculous nickname for you if you keep saying this.

  — Let me help you. — He laughs. — How about a
Powerful Big Cock, Big Bad Sexy Wolf. — He laughs again. — Lord of Everything.

  — Don’t lose the grip.

  The more I curse, the more he laughs, which makes me more pissed off.

  — I’m going to talk seriously now — he pulls me against his chest and holds me in his arms — if there is no way I can convince you otherwise, let it be clear that I will be in all the photo sections and, if I have do go to the runaway, may God help me.

  I smile and kiss him. His hands go down to my ass, and I press my hips on this cock, already hard again.

  — Okay — I agree with the terms. And kiss his lips kiss again.

  My lips don't get tired of his. He's my addiction. I already want another dose. I want it all. He's ready to give me the overdose I need, even if it destroys me.

  I didn't know it yet, but the destruction was coming and there would be nothing left.

  Chapter 27

  Nicolas Reis

  I wanted to have her body there over mine, feeling the softness of those insolent lips, but she had convinced me to get dressed. I put on my clothes and shoes. Isa just put on her denim shorts, giving a little wiggle so it fit on her hips.

  — Can you please look the other way, you pervert?! — She scolds me with a half-smile on her face.

  — No, I can’t — I say, and I continue to admire her as she puts on her tank top without a bra.

  Just by looking at her, I felt my heart beat faster, and when she smiled and pretended to swear at me, I knew I had found the perfect woman. Almost, if she wasn't so stubborn. Just thinking that soon the pictures of my little hinny would be spread around already made my blood boil again. I had not given up on the idea of convincing her to give up on it.

  Isa was a mule when she wanted something, and I knew that she wouldn't change her opinion because I wanted her to. Stubborn hinny. I had until Friday to think about something. I was not being dramatic when I said I would have a heart attack. Men are categorical and objective and, if I say that I will die if a see her on the runaway, this is not drama. Well, maybe I wouldn't die right away, but I would be arrested for beating up any man who dared to whistle or touch my girl.

  — Hinny’s Cakes! — I exclaim when the name pops in my mind like a fucking great idea. — That's a good name for the bakery.

  — You're kidding, right? — She says, putting on the slippers. — That's the worst name I've ever seen.

  I laugh loudly and put my hand on her waist. She narrows her eyes and rests her hand on mine. I insist on the idea.

  — I think it’s great. I can already imagine the little hinny’s and colorful cupcakes decorating the tables and walls of the place.

  She uses her free hand to pinch me.

  — I'm not even going to say where you can put your horrible idea.

  I smile.

  — There is also Honeybun’s Cakes, — I tease, and she tries to step on my foot as we leave — but I think hinny is more appropriate.

  — Your ass, Nicolas! — She releases me and starts to collect the photos I shot on the floor.

  Damn. Looking at those pictures made me angry and turn on at the same time. I wanted each one of those pictures stamped on the wall of my office, not spread around for anyone to see and jack off thinking about my girl.

  I know I said I would try to understand, but I know myself and I know that if I don't think about something until Friday... I take a deep breath and try not to think about the worst that can happen.

  — What are you thinking about? — She asks, interrupting the silence between us.

  Some dry leaves snap as we walk embraced.

  — That I need to go back to Rio - I say at last.

  Isa twists his lip in disappointment.

  — Oh... — And the sadness in her voice makes me happy. It's a sign that she wants me around.

  My hand goes down to her ass, and I squeeze it.

  — You can come with me - I announce. — I won't let you run away again.

  She smiles and pulls my hand back to her waist.

  — I already said I won't run away, but I can't go with you now. I have orders until the end of the week. I can see you on Friday.

  Friday. The photoshoot. Shit. I was going to kill Lucas and then stick that camera in Bruno's ass.

  — You can't go with me today because you have orders, but for the new photos your schedule is free. Good to know that I am not a priority in your life. I must be below the bandit's horse poop on a scale of importance.

  She laughs. Isa laughs out loud. Slaying my feelings, the naughty girl laughs at my torment. What man did I become?! The worst type that exists, the in love one.

  — You are so dramatic, Mr. Reis. — She mocks me.

  My hand slips back to her ass, and I squeeze it hard.

  — But how… —she complains, takes my hand again and intertwines her hand in mine. I like to feel her small hand on mine.

  — What?! — I pretend to be misunderstood. — Your ass has a magnet. I put my hand close to it and when I realize, BAM, it’s already there. — I smile and continue. — It's stronger than me.

  When we get to the farm, Henrique is talking to Carolina and can't hide his surprise mixed with discontent as soon as we enter the room. Isabel's mother smiles when she sees our hands joined.

  — Mr. Brandão, can we talk outside for a few minutes? — I ask politely.

  He pats his hand on his wife's thigh and gets up from the couch.

  I release Isabel's hand and follow Henrique out of there.

  Isa Oliveira Brandão

  — Did he propose? - My mother asks me with a wide smile.

  — Propose? — I shake my head and roll my eyes at the crazy idea. — You are getting old and starting to look like grandma Isaura.

  I head to the kitchen and start fiddling with the refrigerator to escape the questions I know my mom is going to ask.

  — Marriage... — I repeat. — Do you think this kind of things happen like that, overnight, mom?! It only happens in those novels you like to read.

  I don’t know who I was trying to full. Of course, just thinking about the Big Bad Wolf with the passionate and fluffy mode activated already made my heart do pirouettes of joy in my chest.

  — Stop being an ogre, Isabel – She reproaches, leaning against the sink. — This is already ancient history. Or do you think I don't know, all the splinters you exchanged when you were teens.

  I sigh and pick up the peanut-covered pudding platter.

  The famous pudding.

  — Did you put something in here?

  Long before my mom and dad admit they were in love, my mother prepared a special lunch for him and diluted laxatives in the syrup to punish him for something he did. Where do you think I got the idea to do the same with Nicolas' donuts? I learned from the best.

  — Of course not. — She smiles.

  She reaches for a saucer, spoon and knife. After I get some for me, I put it back in the fridge, and we go back to the living room together.

  I sit on the couch and start eating to calm my nerves. It's not chocolate, but the dessert melts in my mouth.

  — Where's grandma? — I ask, taking another spoonful and filling my mouth again.

  — She's dealing in the vegetable garden.

  — Moooom! — I say. — She can no longer make these efforts. She already has what? About eighty or so.

  — Like I’ve never said anything like that for her a million times. But you and your father have to take all that stubbornness out of her.

  I eat the last spoonful of pudding.

  — Oh, okay, as you are the candor in person -—I reply, I spoon the saucer to scrape all the syrup and lick. I look in the direction of the door they left open. Still no sign of them.

  — They are talking for a long time, right? — I say worried

  — Let them talk. — She tries to calm me down. — They might like each other after that.

  — Hm ... I don't know — I answer suspiciously, but I change the subject. �
� That scout called, — I say — Nicolas called him in the biggest crazy jealousy attack of all time.

  — Really? - Curiosity plastered on her face.

  — This Friday I'm going to Rio for a new photoshoot.

  She vibrates with happiness.

  — Ah, Isabel, my God ... I have to prepare your father's heart.

  I laugh when I remember Nicolas' outbreak and how sexy he was, all jealous and possessive.

  — I'm going to take a shower. Can you put it in the sink for me? — I stretch the empty plate and my mother immediately notices the purple marks on my wrist.

  — What is it, Isabel? – She asks alarmed when she takes the saucer.

  — Nothing — I say with a half-hearted smile and go straight for the bathroom.

  When I get out of the shower, I hear some laughter from the balcony. Wearing a comfortable gray cotton dress, my favorite, I follow the sound and I can’t believe what I see.

  — She locked all the bathroom doors — Nicolas says, and my dad is crying with laughter.

  — She is the hinny’s daughter, for sure. — He wipes a tear out of the corner of his eye. — Her mother filled a laxative pudding and stuffed my underwear in the only bathroom in the house.

  It was Nicolas's turn to laugh. It seemed that they had found something in common.

  — May I know the reason for the laughter? — Nicolas smiles.

  — Guys chat - he replies and I feel the challenge in his eyes.

  My dad gets up and pats Nicolas on the shoulder twice.

  — I'll pay attention to my hinny. Don’t lose the judgment you two. I will take your word for it.

  — Sure, father. - Nicolas chuckles and his hand on Nicolas's shoulder puts a little more pressure.

  — Do not abuse your luck, hairy. — he warns in a snarl and goes back into the cottage.

  Nicolas pulls the door and closes it without making a sound. With a quick movement, he pulls me against the wall and kisses me. His hands grip my waist and pull my dress up, and then he feels my ass with both hands. A groan escapes my lips, but he swallows it.

  I make a huge effort to get my lips away from his.

  — Stop — I say. — Take it easy, you pervert.