Chapter 5

Alejandro’s POV 

The air outside her studio was thick with salt and silence, broken only by the steady thud of my shoes against the stone path. I should’ve stayed away. I knew I should have. But ever since Luna undressed before me—slowly, defiantly, like she wanted me to suffer—I hadn’t been able to think of anything else.

She was a fucking vision.

The way her nipples had pebbled under my gaze. The subtle shift of her thighs, like she was trying to hold something in—desire, maybe, or the ache of anticipation. She painted herself with such erotic grace, it was like she wanted me to watch. And I did. I burned that image into my mind until it tortured me in dreams.

I hadn’t touched her then. I’d left her wanting, trembling, aching for more.

But tonight?

Tonight, I wasn’t leaving without tasting every inch of her.

I didn’t knock. I didn’t need to.

She was there, in a loose robe that barely held together, barefoot, smelling like turpentine and temptation. Her brush hung in one hand, her mouth parted in surprise. Or maybe expectation.

“You came back,” she whispered.

“You knew I would.”

I stepped in. She didn’t back away. Her eyes drank me in like she’d been starving. I shut the door with a firm click, then reached for her waist. The brush clattered to the floor.

Her breath hitched just before I kissed her.

God, she tasted like red wine and rebellion. Her lips opened for me, tongue hungry, fingers clawing into my shoulders as I pressed her against the wall. The robe slipped off her shoulder, baring one perfect breast, then the other. I let it fall completely and drank her in.

Naked. Bare. Glorious.

Her skin flushed under my touch. I dropped my mouth to her collarbone, biting gently as she gasped. My hands roamed—hips, thighs, ass—and when I cupped her pussy, I felt how soaked she already was.

“Fuck, Luna,” I groaned, rubbing slow circles over her clit.

She moaned into my neck, hips rolling. “Alejandro…”

I pressed two fingers inside her, slowly, and her mouth fell open.

“Ahhh—fuck!”

She was tight and warm and wet enough to drown in. I fucked her slowly with my fingers, watching the way her lips parted, how her head fell back as I curled them just right. Her pussy clenched around me like it never wanted to let go.

“I want to taste you,” I said, voice thick.

She didn’t even answer—just nodded, breathless and desperate.

I dropped to my knees, hooked her leg over my shoulder, and buried my face between her thighs.

Her taste hit me like fire. Sweet and salty and slick. I groaned into her, tongue lapping at her clit, fingers digging into her ass. Her legs trembled as I worked her over, relentless and rough.

Slrrrp… slrrrp… schllckk…

“Alejandro—don’t stop—fuck—”

Her hips bucked against my mouth. I sucked harder, flicked my tongue faster. Her cries got louder, her fingers tangled in my hair, and then she broke.

She came hard, screaming my name, thighs squeezing my face, dripping into my mouth as I moaned against her. I held her through it, licking her until she pushed at my shoulders, breathless.

I stood, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then kissed her. Let her taste herself. She whimpered into my mouth, her body melting against mine.

“Turn around,” I growled.

She obeyed instantly, hands braced on the edge of her painting table, ass arched. I undid my belt with one hand, shoved down my pants just enough to free my cock, and stroked it once. Her scent was all over me now—on my face, my fingers, my mind.

“Beg for it,” I whispered, lining myself up.

She looked over her shoulder, eyes glazed with lust. “Please, Alejandro… fuck me. I need it. Please”

I slammed into her in one long, brutal thrust.

“F—uck!”

Her pussy stretched around me, tight and pulsing. I paused, savoring it, then pulled back and slammed in again. Harder. Faster.

Smack… smack… smack…

The sound of our bodies echoed in the studio. Her tits bounced with every thrust, her cries filling the space like a song. I grabbed her hips, drove into her deep, then wrapped a hand around her throat, firm but not choking—just enough to make her feel owned.

“Say my name,” I growled.

“Ahhh—Alejandro—harder!”

I gave it to her. Pounding her over the table until it creaked under us, her ass slapping against my hips, her nails scraping the wood. I reached around, rubbed her clit in tight circles, and she screamed.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m coming—”

She shattered again, milking my cock as I fucked her through it. Her moans were animalistic now, raw and honest. She sobbed my name like a prayer.

And I wasn’t even close to done.

I pulled out, turned her around, lifted her onto the table, and slammed back in. She clung to me, legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my back.

“Fuck me, Alejandro… give me all of it,” she panted.

I kissed her hard, tongue claiming her mouth as my hips slammed forward, deep and punishing.

“I want your cum,” she whispered, breath hot against my lips. “I want to feel it dripping out of me.”

My control snapped.

I grabbed her ass, lifted her higher, drove into her so deep she cried out. Her pussy clenched around me, milking me, and I let go. Hot, hard spurts deep inside her.

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop just yet.

The orgasm hit me, but my cock stayed hard, aching for more. Her body welcomed every thrust, her moans ragged and pleading.

Smack… schlick… smack…

Sweat dripped from my brow. Her skin glowed. We were tangled in something feral, something past logic. She was mine at this moment, that was all she craved as I had observed earlier. And I knew it was only the beginning.

I wasn’t leaving tonight.

And I sure as hell wasn’t finished.