Vixen - a dark romance story

Chapter 38

Ray Valentino

Chris pressed her against the cool granite, causing her nibbles to pebble and her stomach to lurch at the stark temperature difference.

He then pounded against her, the new angle making him hit her deeper as his other hand squeezed her ass with a bruising force.

He bent over her again, boring into her eyes in the mirror.

"This-" he pinched her ass until she moaned, then slapped it, hard - "is mine."
Releasing her throat, he reached underneath to twist her nipple in an erotic pull. "All mine."
He slid his grip from her ass, cupped her aching pussy, and stroked a finger on her swollen clit. "Fucking mine. Next time you let someone touch you, I want you to remember that."

His hand came down on her ass once again. Warmth spread down her skin, and she gasped in surprise before biting her lower lip.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

One. Two. Three. For each man she danced with, each slap harder than the last.

Ray wanted to protest, to say that none of those men compared to him. The first dance was a polite act, the second wasn't by choice, and the third was meant to make him react. Forgettable faces, vague memories, meaningless talks, hollow smiles - it was his piercing gaze, burning on her back, that held all her attention.

She wanted to tell him that his touch was the only one she truly desired, that even while dancing with others, her thoughts were consumed by him. But all that escaped her lips were embarrassing sounds.

Chris increased his pace, his thrusts became faster, wild, and uncontrolled. His eyes remained fixed on her in the mirror, observing her face and every reaction of hers.

"So tight." He growled, his fingers reaching between them.

Ray let out a mewl, the sound torn from her lips. Her knees threatened to buckle as pleasure shot through her when he found her sensitive bundle of nerves, and her hands gripped the counter to steady herself.
He held her hips, keeping her from collapsing, and continued his relentless pace, his dick twitching inside her.

"Ray. Let go for me, baby." He groaned and slid his hand upwards to twist her nipple.

A loud moan erupted from her lips as she came, leaving her body weak and pliant in his arms. He held her tighter, still moving against hers, prolonging her orgasm while chasing his release.

Ray glanced up at him in the mirror, noticing his tense body and the strained look on his face. She couldn't help but be drawn to him, to the heat in his eyes as he lost himself in her.
"Chris, I want to feel you. Please."

Powerless against her plea, he thrust into her in one last go, losing his control and letting out a deep moan.
He looked achingly handsome, his face contorted with ecstasy brought on by her.

Chris held her tightly as he came down from his high, burying his in the crook of her neck and planting soft kisses on her skin. She could sense the thump of his heart against her back, an uneven rhythm that echoed her own.

Slowly, he straightened and pulled out of her before turning her to face him. He lifted a hand to her face, stroking her cheeks with unexpected tenderness for a man who had just taken her like an animal.

Chris leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. It was different from the passionate, needy kisses they had shared before. This one was intimate, slow, and full of love and promises. The desperate lust was gone, replaced by deep-seated devotion.

Ray pulled away after a while, breathless. He took the opportunity to tuck himself in, dress her, and clean her thighs from his seed. Then, she let him steer her out of the counter and turned to face the mirror. Chris came to stand behind her, encircling her waist with his arms and resting his chin on her shoulder, a pleased grin plastered on his face.

In the mirror, she found herself looking completely disheveled while he still looked relatively composed, apart from his messy hair.
Her updo looked like a bird's nest, her lips were swollen, and her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her dress was hanging to her body in a manner that left little to the imagination of what had just happened.

Looking at their reflections, she marveled at the contrast between them; she looked so fragile and vulnerable against his stronger, muscular frame. It was nice to feel this way sometimes, she admitted to herself.

"That's not fair. How do you still look perfect ?"

He let out an amused, low laugh that resonated within her. Damn, dimples. His grip around her waist tightened, and his gaze locked with hers in the mirror.

"Maybe I'm just used to it." He whispered in her ear, while his hands traced mindless patterns on her stomach.

"Used to what ?"

"To ruining you."

Ray rolled her eyes, fighting a small smile. "Pfft. I can't go out like this."

He hummed in agreement. "You're right. I wouldn't want anyone to see you like this. You look freshly fucked and absolutely wrecked."

"Thank you."

He chuckled again, "You're welcome."

"Guess you'll have to stay at the gala ?"

Chris paused for a moment, "No." He gritted out, "I'm leaving with you. There's no way I'm staying at this gala when I have a gorgeous woman all to myself."

With that, he picked her up bridal style, one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back.

Ray let out a little squeak, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt a little silly being carried like this, but it was also surprisingly sexy. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his chest, while Edith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose" faintly played from the halls.

Chris carried her away from the bathroom with long strides, heading to the back entrance. He pushed open a door and stepped outside, greeted by the whistling of the chilly night breeze.

He opened the passenger door of a black Lamborghini Aventador and settled her into the seat, his hands resting on her thighs for a brief moment.
Then, he shut the door and went over to the driver's side. He got in, started the car, and glanced at her for a second before driving out of the parking lot.

"HQ ?"

"No. My place."

Ray looked over at him, surprise flickering across her face. But she didn't question it, just nodded and leaned back in her seat, her thoughts racing. They'd been to his place before, so it was normal. Yet, something about this moment made her heart race a little faster.

His hand found hers, their fingers linking and resting on her thigh. It was a simple move, but it filled her with warmth. He kept his eyes on the road, while his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, offering comfort.