FORTY-THREE
The Lack Of Control
- ARES -
I can’t control myself. I don’t want to control myself.
I have waited too long, held on too long. My control trembles and cracks with every kiss, every brush of my tongue against hers, every touch of her soft skin against my hands. I slam her against the wall, kissing her desperately, and her witch’s hat falls off and gets lost in the darkness.
I try to calm myself and be gentle, to feel every part of her, so even though I want to devour her, to penetrate her, to hear her moan my name in my ear, I take my time. I caress and kiss her until her breathing turns to gasps, and I know she’s as turned on as I am. My hands fidget and travel inside that short witch’s dress she’s wearing, my lips never leaving hers. Moving her underwear aside, I slide my fingers over her wetness. She moans, and I suck on her bottom lip.
“Already wet?”
She doesn’t say anything, she just shudders when one of my fingers penetrates her. It feels so hot and wet inside her that I feel like I’m going to explode from how hard I am.
“Ares . . .” she mutters, her voice is full of desire. “We are . . . we shouldn’t be here.”
I sink my finger even deeper inside her and hear her gasp, clinging to my shoulders. My lips leave hers to lick and nibble the skin of her neck. I know it’s her weak spot. She drops her head back, and her hips start swaying to the rhythm of my fingers, driving me crazy. I use my free hand to caress her breasts through her dress.
No more, I can’t wait any longer.
Unable to help myself, I pull away from her, removing my hand from her to free my manhood and put on a condom. She protests impatiently.
“Ares, please.”
I look into her eyes playfully. She doesn’t hesitate to tell me what she wants.
“I want you now, inside me.”
“Oh yeah?” I tease her, lifting one of her legs and putting it around my waist. “You perverted little witch.”
My hardness brushes against her, and I rest my forehead on hers.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” I say.
She bites my lower lip.
“I don’t want you to be.”
I grab her by the hair, forcing her to look into my eyes, and I move my hips forward, penetrating her completely with a single thrust. We both moan at the sensation.
God, I’ve forgotten how amazing it feels inside her, wet, tight, hot, smooth . . .
I can’t stop looking at her because she looks so fucking sexy and vulnerable like this, her red cheeks, her swollen lips, her eyes shining with desire. She runs her hands around my neck, and I grab her other leg so I can lift her all the way up and start moving, pressing her against the wall with each sharp movement. I kiss her again, drowning out her moans with my mouth.
“Oh God, Ares!” she gasps, losing control.
Soft, wet, and warm. . . . More, I need more. I speed up my movements, pressing her harder against the wall, moving in and out of her wetness. For a second, I think about stopping. I don’t want to hurt her, but judging by the way she asks for more, I know she likes it as much as I do.
If this keeps up, I’m going to finish faster than I want to. Carrying her, I move backward until I’m sitting on one of the couches and she’s sitting on top of me, with the power to drive me crazier than she already is.
Raquel doesn’t hesitate to move on top of me, in circles, back and forth, and I realize this was not a good idea if I don’t want to finish quickly. She looks like a goddess, the candlelight giving her slightly sweaty skin a glowing touch. I never thought sex could feel so good. It’s not just the physical aspect, but it’s also the connection. Our emotions are conveyed in every touch, every look, every kiss.
Shit, she’s got me in the palm of her hands. She has the power to destroy me, and the truth is I don’t care, being destroyed by her would be a fucking privilege.
She pulls down her dress, exposing her breasts.
Oh yes, a fucking privilege.
I squeeze her waist, guiding her movements.
“Do you like to ride me like this?” I ask. She moans in response.
“Yes, I like it so much.”
I spank her and she trembles with pleasure.
“You’re all wet.” I straighten up a little to lick the skin in the middle of her breasts and then suck on them. “I want you to come on me, just like this.”
I feel her tightening around me, I know she’s almost there.
“Oh, Ares, it feels so . . . oh!” I move with her, thrusting deep into her. Her moans get out of control, and I know I’m close too.
I hug her, whispering in her ear, but out of the corner of my eye I notice movement to my right. I look over and see a surprised face between a small opening in the curtains that hide us.
Marco.
Instinctively, my hands lift up Raquel’s dress and I’m relieved to feel her covered, but she doesn’t stop. Marco takes two seconds to react, and I give him a cold look that makes him go away.
I’d like to say that distracted me, but that’s not the case. My witch keeps moving on me, on the verge of orgasm, pulling me with her. She kisses me, and the friction of our connected bodies intensifies.
She whimpers against my mouth, her body shudders against me, her wetness is squeezing me, her orgasm driving mine, and I grip her hips as I come.
Suddenly, I can hear the music again, and the sound of our heavy breathing. Raquel hugs me, and I bury my face in her neck. I can feel our hearts racing, and I don’t want to move. This feels perfect.
And that’s been one of the first big differences with Raquel. Before her, I always wanted to get away from the girl I just had sex with once I was satisfied. But with Raquel I feel this need to stay with her, with her pressed onto me. I still remember how much it scared me, that feeling of wanting to stay by her side. It wasn’t something that had ever happened to me before.
I inhale her scent and smile against her skin.
I’m not afraid anymore, Witch.
I don’t want to run away anymore.
I give her a kiss and we carefully get up, fixing our costumes. I watch her lower her dress, making it look like nothing happened.
“I guess I’m out of the friend zone,” I say. She looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” I say, playing innocent. “I’m just telling the truth, girlfriend.” She tries to hide a smile.
“Girlfriend?”
I just nod.
“Now I’m all yours, and you’re all mine, little witch.”
“Ha!” She snorts. “Why are you always so possessive?”
I slip an arm around her waist, pulling her to me, and she lets out a giggle. I caress her cheek.
“Because there are people who have their eyes on you.”
“Jealous?” She gives me a wide smile. “You look cute when you’re jealous.”
The first time I ever felt jealousy in my life was with you, I think.
Raquel squirms a little, looking uncomfortable. “I’m going to the bathroom to . . . you know, to clean myself up a little bit.”
“I’ll wait for you at the table.”
She smiles and walks away. I leave the candlelit room and make my way to the table. The first to greet me is Gregory.
“You came back.” He gets up to whisper in my ear, “Comb your hair a little, Mr. Obvious.”
I run my hands through my hair quickly, and I walk over to Marco.
“Do you have cigarettes?” He nods, pulling a box out of his pocket.
“Do you want one?”
“Yeah. Will you join me for a smoke?”
“Of course.” He nods.
We pass through the candlelit room to go to the balcony on that side. I barely set foot out there before I’m remembering the time Raquel left me turned on in this very place. So much has happened since that night.
We light our cigarettes. I take a puff and blow the smoke out into the cool night air. Marco rests his forearms on the balcony railing and focuses on the view. Silence is rare between us; it’s awkward, but the conversation that’s coming is one we both know we should be having.
“There is no need to beat around the bush between us,” he says casually.
“This is not a game to me, Marco,” I begin, inhaling again. “Not this time.”
“Do you really like her?”
“It’s more than that,” I answer.
He bursts out laughing.
“Don’t fuck with me. Are you in love?”
“Yes.”
He grimaces. “I thought she was just the weird girl who stalked you, how things change.”
“Marco, I’m serious, she’s not a game to me,” I repeat. “No games, no bets, no challenges.”
He raises both hands in the air.
“Oh, I got it,” he says with a mocking tone.
“Say what you have to say.”
“Am I supposed to listen to you? Did you care when you screwed things up for me with Samantha?”
“You never told me you really liked her; that it wasn’t a game. How was I supposed to know? By reading your mind?”
“You knew how I felt about her! It shouldn’t have been necessary to tell you. I’ve had feelings for her ever since we were little, and you knew it.”
I knew this would come out someday, but I didn’t expect to have this conversation today.
“I can’t control her feelings. That’s not on me.”
“But any hope I had with her went to shit when you started fucking her for pleasure, for fun, fooling her.”
I put the cigarette out in an ashtray.
“I never wanted to play with her, and you know it.”
“But you did,” he replies. The anger in his voice is clear. “You screwed us both with your damn selfishness. You never think of others. Only about yourself.”
“What do you want? An apology?”
“Nah, I just hope that now that you’ve found someone you really care about, you’ll learn. I just hope you grow up. How would you feel if I took Raquel away from you? Imagine watching me use her for pleasure, knowing that you’re there feeling a thousand things for her.”
Just thinking about it, I clench my hands at my sides.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“It feels horrible, doesn’t it? I’m glad you can put yourself in my shoes now.” He turns his back to me, and sighs. “Relax, I’m not going anywhere near your witch, I just wanted you to understand how I felt.”
Swallowing my pride, I speak.
“I’m sorry.”
Marco looks at me again, surprise clear on his face, but I continue.
“I’m really sorry, bro. You’re right.”
“You’ve never apologized to me.”
“I know,” I sigh. “But now it’s easier to admit my mistakes. I think she makes me a better person.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“And Samy will heal, Marco, and you’ll have the chance to win her back.”
He bursts out laughing.
“I hope so. For now, I’ll settle for her glares.”
“So, we’re good?” I ask.
“We’re good.”
With everything clear, we both walk back into the club. When we get to the table, Raquel is laughing out loud with Gregory, and Samantha is standing with Andrea, dancing a little to the music. Apolo and Daniela are on the dance floor, doing some crazy moves.
I move closer to Samantha to whisper in her ear: “I dare you to dance with Marco.”
She pouts. “I hate your challenges.”
But she does it. We’ve always done the challenges we set for ourselves. I watch them go to dance, and my eyes fall on my witch. She looks so beautiful laughing. Her cheeks are flushed; I’ve noticed her face turns red when she’s had too much to drink. She notices my presence and her eyes light up, and she raises her hand, beckoning me to her.
Yes, definitely, being destroyed by her is a privilege.