by Ava Lore
...Okay, no I hadn’t. Running across a highway without waiting for a lull in traffic, even a sleepy two lane highway, was definitely in the top five stupidest things I’ve ever done.
But what can I say? There was just something about Manny that made me let go of old hang-ups, even those hang-ups that were probably best left in place, like traffic safety.
My head whipped this way and that as I darted across the hot asphalt. Tiny rocks dug into my tender soles, and a car horn blared behind me as I made it to the soft grass. Manny was just disappearing into a thick wall of hedges, and I only had a moment to contemplate letting the cops catch me before he stuck his head back out and grinned at me, gesturing wildly. “Come on!” he said, and then he was gone again.
Taking a deep breath I plunged into the hedge.
It wasn’t as thick as I first thought, but it was definitely not the easiest thing to pass through. Branches scratched my face, caught my hair, tugged at my clothes, but then Manny’s warm hand found mine and he pulled me through.
We found ourselves in a posh backyard, not unlike the one at the beach house we had rented. Well, shit. I was no stranger to the rich, and the rich did not like it when hooligans broke into their backyards.
Manny, however, did not seem at all concerned about this, but sense was starting to poke me in the brain. “Oh my god,” I said. “I could get disbarred for breaking the law!”
Manny was pulling me across the grass as we skirted the elaborate pool structure in the middle of the yard, but he stopped at this. “What law?” he asked.
I stared at him. “Trespassing?” I tried.
He grinned. “We’d better not get caught, then.” And he pulled me into a corner of the yard, a small, secret corner covered in lush tropical plants that I couldn’t identify. All that mattered was that they provided cover, and I gladly ducked behind them.
In that corner the light was green, the sun was shaded, and we were suddenly in a tiny, magical fairy world, one that I recognized from a dozen and a half fantasy movies of my youth. I tried not to gape as Manny settled in next to me on the mulched ground, but it was hard.
“Beautiful, eh?” he said.
I looked at him sharply. “You’ve been here before?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but when we were kids on the island and running around unsupervised it was always nice to find a place like this for hide and seek. Not as numerous in the jungle, let me tell you.”
Mollified, I peeked through the leaves to see the backyard. It remained unchanged and peaceful. A bird called in a tree somewhere.
“What if the police come?” I whispered between heavy, gasping breaths.
“Then we be very quiet,” Manny told me. “Here, put your shoes on, it’ll be better in case we have to run again.”
Oh god, I could hardly even comprehend running anymore—by god, I was out of shape, though I supposed living on gas station coffee and truck burritos might do that to you—but I did as he suggested.
He peeked out between the leaves and long minutes passed. Then he sat back and turned to me. “The owners of this house are probably somewhere else. This is where the rich folks live and they always have like ten houses around the world. Even if the police were here, they wouldn’t bother getting a warrant to cross these private properties.” He grinned. “I hate to say it, but I think we’re free and clear.”
I sighed with relief, and Manny swallowed it with a kiss.
Oh, I thought. Oh, Jesus.
Did I mention Emmanuel Reyes could kiss? Because that man knew what a kiss truly was.
For a moment I thought he was going to devour me, he was so hungry, so enraptured with the feel of his lips on mine, and then I realized that he was actually holding back. His hands were on my face—when had that happened? I wondered hazily—and I felt him trembling, his body curved toward mine, begging me to surrender to him.
I inhaled sharply as he pulled me to him, as he rose to his knees and dragged me along, and instead of feeling ill-used and manhandled I was thrilled, overwhelmed with the sensations he sent through me at the merest touch. Wherever his skin came into contact with mine I felt a rush of heat, an overwhelming flush of desire that diverted all thoughts to him and what he was doing to me.
And what was he doing to me?
Blowing my mind, of course.
My body found its own mind, suddenly sitting up and taking notice of every movement of Manny’s body, of every harsh breath that leaked from between his lips as suddenly we were careening downward, down into the rough ground, and his body followed mine, looming and possessive.
Oh Jesus, I thought distantly, stupidly. What the fuck is happening?
His hands, huge and calloused from drumming, went to my throat, circling fully around the column of my neck, and I had the sudden insight that I was completely and utterly under his control. He could strangle me out here, leave me in the bushes to rot, and no one would ever know.
And I wouldn’t mind, as long as he fucked me first.
My hands went to his shoulders, to the thin t-shirt he wore, and my nails dug into the cotton fabric there, pulling him into me, and then we were laid out on the ground, behind some exotic tropical plant, in the cool quiet green of a hidden world.
There was no one to see us. No one to stop us. No one to remind me that this was probably a bad idea.
Well. Good.
Slowly we spread over the ground, until my legs were hiked up around his hips, his lean, muscular body writhing above me as he fought to get as much of himself into contact with me as possible. Could he truly find me sexy?
Up until now I had thought that Emmanuel Reyes, international rock star, had sort of thought of me as an easy lay, as well as a charity case. But now doubts entered my mind as his hands raked hungrily over my body, as he curled into me, the huge bulge of his erection pressing into the space between my legs. He seemed starved, needy—desperate for me.
But why?
I had no idea. But I couldn’t think straight right now. Not with the way he was kissing me. Not with the way he was holding me, touching me, rolling his hips against me. My body was on fire, threatened to burst into flames, threatened to overwhelm me. I would faint if he touched me more than he was already. His broad chest rubbed roughly against my breasts, his muscular arms scraping up and down my sides, his strong fingers digging into my flesh wherever he could find a handful. The heat between us built, mounting higher and higher, and I grasped at one last vestige of sanity, the only thing I knew.
“Don’t...don’t you need to get back to the set?” It was all I had. Duty. Responsibility. Those were the things I knew, deep in my bones, even as now Manny obliterated everything else. The set? What was that? I could hardly think, hardly even comprehend that there was a world outside of the world between the two of us, the heat and the fire and the gravity whirling together, giving birth to new stars, new planets, new galaxies.
I felt him smile against me. His lips were at my breast, lavishing attention there, attention that I hadn’t felt in a year at least, and my starved body writhed and begged for more, even as I knew it was a bad idea.
“The set?” he said. “Who cares about that?” His fingers were hooked into my sleeveless shirt, pulling it down so that the lacy top of my bra showed. Then, very delicately, with his teeth, he grasped the soft lace and pulled it down, exposing me to the warm Hawaiian air.
“Who cares?” Oh my god, I cared. Didn’t I? “Don’t you?”
“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “Watching you dance to my music made me crazy to touch you. Right now I have you right where I want you. And I don’t think I want to let you go.”
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I tried to form words, searching for something intelligent to say, anything at all, but then his teeth closed around my exposed nipple and I made a squeaking sound, distinctly unsexy, or so I thought.
Above me, Manny groaned. “God, Rose, yes. Yes, sound like that. Let me know you want me.” Then he bit my nipple again, sucking i
t into his hot, greedy mouth, and I cried out, this time abandoned, not caring who heard, and writhed beneath him, my back arching, my whole body cleaving into his.
“Yes, like that,” he murmured, and this time I heard the soft Spanish accent he managed to hide when he was distant, when he was cut off from the world—but when he was with me, when he felt things other than simple glee at fucking with the world as it was, he seemed to revert to an older way of speaking, an older way of thinking about the world. I wanted nothing more than to make him speak nothing but Spanish to me.
Beneath him, I planted my soles into the ground, flat and firm, and pushed up into him.
He hissed against my skin and went very still, his whole body holding motionless except for a tiny tremble, a tiny aching shudder that told me just how much he needed me to let him inside. “Rose,” he breathed at last. “Rose, you don’t know what that does to me...”
“Oh,” I murmured back, “I think I have an inkling.” And I let my hand slip between our bodies, sliding down between our stomachs until I found his hips, the mound of his pelvis against mine, and then, even further, the hot, aching root of his cock, engorged with need and begging to be handled, to let me suck it, to let me put it inside me and ride it until we were both satisfied.
I loved the feel of it. I loved the heat, burning through our clothes. I loved how he strained against the confines of his shorts to reach me, how he desperately wanted to be inside me, and for the first time in a long time, I realized that someone found me desirable.
No...not just desirable. Someone needed me. Had to have me. And if they didn’t, I fully well believed that they would go quite insane from deprivation.
Manny, I thought as one hand roamed over his body, dipping and diving between us, teasing and drawing out his pleasure, and the other closed tightly around the root of his cock, making him groan and cry out with unfulfilled need. Without warning he thrust into my hand, and I tightened my fingers around the base of his cock, letting him know that I wanted him just as much, that I wanted him to be just as pleasured as he had pleasured me. My mouth watered, my whole being stripping away and narrowing to the one thing I knew I needed.
Emmanuel Reyes. Naked. Inside me. Now.
“Manny,” I said, unable to form any words but his name, and he put his lips against mine again, his tongue darting out to taste me, his whole being ready to invade. “Please.”
“But of course,” he answered, and even then I could hear his customary smile, the laughter that lived inside him no matter what the moment, no matter what the occasion. Even this occasion, on the run from the cops, he was still happy, still joyous and full of life, still ready and willing to accept whatever came his way, and I knew I had to be like him, had to become like him, if I was going to survive in this world.
“Please,” I said again, my hand between us flattening and rubbing over the length of his erect cock, and in response he moaned and thrust against me, taking his pleasure from my hands, my fingers, my willingness to submit to him.
Somewhere outside of us there were birds and flowers, there were trees and the cascading water of a man-made waterfall running from a hot tub into a pool, but none of that seemed to matter. We could have been in the back of my car for all I cared. In the back of Manny’s car for all I cared. It didn’t matter where it happened, just that it did happen. I wanted it. Needed it. Had to have it.
My fingers moved to the button of his fly and he groaned, his hands going up and down my body, his mouth working my nipples, sending bolts of electricity through my entire being. I lit up like a firework at his touch, at the scrape of his tongue, at the drag of his fingers over my flesh. His hands slipped under my tank top, pulling the fabric up and up, his thumbs caressing the lines of my stomach, making the muscles there twitch and contract, until he reached my breasts, exposed and vulnerable, then scraped over them, rough and possessive.
An involuntary cry slipped from my lips, and I arched up and into him.
“That’s right,” he said, low and gravelly, “just like that.” And I realized that he had been seducing me from the moment we’d run into each other. The Puke of Fate had led us here, to this wild, delicious moment, this moment that meant more to me than it probably it meant to him, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be like him. I wanted to take the world as it was, not as I wanted it to be, because it was so rarely, so very rarely, how I envisioned it. So rarely how I needed it.
But right now I needed Manny, and I needed his care.
Care? a part of me said, but I shoved it away.
What I needed was right in front of me. Just waiting for me to take it.
His hands slipped back down to my waist, slipping under the band of my shorts until they found the button-fly keeping me from him. I wished I’d worn a skirt, so that this could be easy, but then I didn’t care as he slowly peeled my shorts down from my hips, sliding them down my thighs until they landed on the ground next to us. One hand dove into my hair, holding me in place as he kissed me, and I clung to him as though I were drowning as the other hand found the delicate elastic of my panties at the inside of my thigh.
Oh god, he wasn’t even going to take my panties off, was he?
My question was answered as he slipped his fingers under the elastic and peeled the soaked cotton away from my burning pussy. As he did so, the backs of his fingers brushed against the super-sensitized flesh, slipping against the moisture gathered there.
I sucked air through my teeth as a wave of shivers rippled up my body, washing over my skin, pulling me under. “Oh,” I breathed as his fingers returned to the slick, soaked space.
“You’re burning hot,” he whispered to me, his voice rough and insistent. “You want me.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yes,” I hissed at him. “Please. Fuck me.”
At my words a groan escaped him and he fell on me like a ravenous animal, his mouth sucking and licking, kissing and biting as he freed his cock from his own shorts and underwear with one hand. I slipped my arms between us and let his erection spring into my fingers, and the touch of it seared my hand. Burning velvet over red-hot steel. And big. Much bigger than my last lover. Heavy with purpose and throbbing with want. I needed it inside me, now.
Parting my legs I pulled him toward me, but above me he chuckled, somewhat breathless. “Let’s...let’s not get carried away,” he said.
I tried to ask him why, but it came out as a mewling sound and a wiggle of my hips beneath him. But Manny just smiled, reached down, and pulled out of his pocket a golden foil square. A condom.
God. Right. How could I be so stupid? Dumbly I nodded and reached for it. He let me take it from his hands.
He didn’t stop kissing me or making any move to help me as I ripped the foil open with shaking fingers. Our breath was hard and fast now, harsh in our secret space, and every gasp we took drove me higher, making me clumsy as I finally slipped the condom out of the package and brought it down between us.
“Ready?” I asked him breathlessly.
“Rosalita,” he rumbled against my throat, “if you don’t put that on me right now, I’m probably going to explode.”
I had to smile at that. Licking my lips, I grabbed his cock in my hand and pulled it toward me, slipping the condom on over the soft head, then pinching the end and rolling it down the whole length of his shaft. And it was a long, thick shaft, longer and thicker than I’d ever seen outside of a porno, and the thought of putting it inside me made my toes curl preemptively, the anticipation of the pleasure almost enough to make me come.
When at last the condom was on I brought my legs up to my chest, opening myself for him. The whole world was just the two of us—the hard mulch beneath my back, the rustle of our clothes, the plants and ground plucking at my hair, the soft wind rustling the enormous leaves above us, our glowing green refuge shining gently with filtered sun. The heat was rising, both between us and inside our secret spot, and sweat rolled over my thro
at, slicking my body beneath my clothes. Above me, Manny’s handsome, well-cut face shone, like a statue made of pale gold, though his brilliant eyes watched me and the smile lurking on his lips too human and too soft to ever be anything but flesh.
Reaching between us, I aimed his cock for my aching core, and wrapped my other arm around his neck, pulling him to me, inviting him inside.
He didn’t hesitate to take me up on my offer. His soft smile turning wicked, he began to lower himself into me.
I gasped, my eyes rolling in my head as the soft tip of his cock nudged against my slick, burning entrance. He was taking it slow, but I couldn’t stand another moment without him. Wrapping my legs around his waist I dug my heels into the small of his back and arched up into him, and with a burst of pain and pleasure he slid inside me, so far I could feel him resting against my womb.
“Oh,” he said, and his whole body shuddered against mine as he sank into the cradle of my body. “Oh, yes, beautiful Rosa, yes, yes—”
His hands found my face and captured it, pulling me up for a kiss, a ravenous meeting of tongues and lips as he plundered my mouth and his hips began to thrust in a rhythm I thought I might recognize.
The rhythm of his heart, of his music. The rhythm of his need and his desires. I held him close and strove to meet him, stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust, but he was so much bigger than I was that after a moment I realized I could only hold on for the ride. His mouth found my throat and I moaned as he drew his knees under us, tilting my pelvis up until he could thrust his entire length inside me, burying himself to the hilt.
My eyes had closed at some point, and I struggled to open them, to meet his eyes, but when I did I saw his golden gaze zeroed in on the place where our bodies met, where his cock plunged into me again and again. He looked...hungry.
Then his eyes flicked to mine and he smiled again. His hands on my hips shifted, until he freed one, keeping his thick, long thrusts quick and full, scraping over the swollen, needy flesh inside my cunt. Then his thumb found my clit.
