Delgano: A Dark Contemporary Interracial Romance

“For you, I mean. Come back to you.”

“Is this part of the forep?—”

He sucked.

Hot moisture gushed from inside her—a first—and she cried out what was probably babble, but in her mind, she was saying his name.

He released her nipple and kissed her until the electric sensations dulled to a pleasing tingle. As if he knew the very moment, he slid a finger inside her and thrust until the sensations built again.

When he entered a second a finger, stretching her wider, she hissed under her breath. But it didn’t stop either the momentum or the climax surging in like a locomotive. All her solo orgasms had come from her clit, so she didn’t know what to expect as the pressure built, increasing in intensity, until it snapped.

She cried out.

Her body jerked.

There was another gush, and she felt her inner muscles contract in waves, looking for something to clamp down on.

“You’re feeling good, yet?” he asked, slowing his fingers.

“Yet?” She laughed, her chest heaving. “I’ve felt good for a while. Are you sure you’ve never done this?”

“This part, I have. This isn’t where everything falls apart.”

“Take whatever time you need. If it brings up anything, stop. I won’t care. I won’t mind.”

Their eyes met. “You mean that.”

“I do.”

Licking his lips, he journeyed down her body and gave her no time to prepare. He hitched her legs over his shoulders, and it didn’t seem to matter that she was such a sticky mess, she felt a wet spot growing underneath her.

He teased her with a soft flick.

Still, her fingernails sunk into the bedspread, and her back arched. Each time she arched, his mouth detached, but all he did was secure her legs and return to consuming her; there was no other word for the way he feasted on her as if breathing was optional.

Eventually, she lost control of her limbs.

He took his time, following her body’s responses. She cried his name, and she didn’t care what she looked like, twitching and bending and looking down as his tongue created deep paths with sticky streams at its luscious tip.

“Touch yourself for me, querida,” he commanded, his voice deeper than she ever heard it.

She kneaded and massaged her breasts.

When she squeezed her nipples, it brought back his erotic sucking, and her body went board stiff. “Adrían…” She frantically rocked against his mouth. “Adrían, Adrían, Adrían.”

The world split into two pieces.

Those two pieces then shattered.

The climax started in her lower abdomen before bursting with an unexplainable, tingling warmth that made her jerk and shudder and float. For a moment, she wondered if he would keep going, and when she looked down at him, the dark glimmer in his eyes told her that he’d considered it.

But then, he rose.

During the day, at night, it didn’t matter—this man’s attractiveness surged past handsome. If this was how they made them in Brazil, she could understand why her mother had forbidden her aunt from allowing her to ever travel.

“I figure, this is my first time,” she prefaced, “as well as yours. And I’m on birth control.”

She didn’t mention that it had been one of Mora’s requirements because her mother was convinced she was lying about her past sexual experiences. They’d then run every test, and she’d barely been able to consent to the IUD; regardless, Mora would have put her under and had it implanted anyhow.