Three Means 1

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   (A/N: Chapter is filled with adult content 18+ (sexual content). Read at your own discretion.)

    She twisted her wrist, pulling her hand free from his grip, and he let her go with a low growl of surrender. But his release wasn't a retreat—it was a prelude. His hands, large and warm, cupped her face with an almost punishing tenderness, holding her in place as his hips snapped forward. Deep. The force of it made her gasp, her eyes rolling shut, but her now-liberated hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as she arched into him. 

    Her fingers tightened, her nails scraping just enough to leave a sting. As the thrusts continued getting faster and the climax getting closer, she found a spot of hair she could tug on hard enough to keep his head back. He slowed his rhythm, smirking up at her through hooded eyes. That smirk promised pleasure. He knew how much she enjoyed dominating him.

    "You like it when I take control, don't you?" she whispered, her voice low and commanding. "Let me ride you."

    He didn't need to be asked twice. In a smooth motion, he shifted, letting her take her place on top of him. Straddling him now, she wasted no time, sinking down until he filled her completely. The stretch, the perfect fit—it made her head fall back, her lips parting in a moan. She set the pace, slow at first, teasing him, watching his face as he clenched his jaw and gripped her hips like his life depended on it.

    "Fuck, Dulce," he groaned, his voice ragged, barely more than a gasp. She moved faster, rolling her hips in a way that made him dig his fingers into her flesh.

    "I love seeing you melt like that under me," she said breathlessly, leaning forward. Her breasts swayed with each motion, drawing his eyes to them, as his hands roamed, cupping and teasing, rough one moment, reverent the next.

    He brought one hand down to her ass and delivered a sharp slap, making her gasp and falter her movements for only a second.

    "Do that again," she demanded, her voice shaking. He obliged, spanking her harder this time, the sting melting into delicious heat. She threw her head back, her body trembling as she rode him, chasing her climax. He was close too; she could feel it in the way his muscles tensed beneath her, the way his length pulsed inside her. Just as he was about to come undone, she pulled away. His groan of frustration only fueling her need.

    She wrapped her hand around his slick, throbbing shaft and pumped him quickly, while her other hand found its way between her legs. She pressed herself against him, her moans mingling with his as he erupted. His release splashed across his abdomen in thick, hot streams and the sight alone was enough to send her spiraling, her own climax crashing over her as her legs shook uncontrollably.

    She collapsed beside him. Her chest moved up and down heavily, as she tried to catch her breath. He lay there, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as well. But she wasn't done—not yet. There was a fire inside of her that did not allow her to rest. She wanted more. Now that she had finally felt what it was like to have him inside of her, she wanted to be filled at all times.

    Lazily, she reached out, trailing her fingers through the evidence of his pleasure. She traced circles on his skin, her movements unhurried and deliberate. When his eyes opened, heavy with exhaustion but hunger, she smiled at him, her lips curling wickedly.

    "Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and teasing. "So hard for me again."

    He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. "You're insatiable."

    "You yearn for it." To prove her point, she slid her fingers into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as her eyes locked on his. His gaze darkened, a growl rumbling low in his throat.

    "You're a perv," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "You're going to be the death of me."

    Her laugh was soft. "Then die happy."