19. The Sahara

NINETEEN

THE SAHARA

Skin, Rihanna

Roe

“Tell her to turn off the lights,” Saint says and I tell Alexa exactly that, obeying like I’ve lost my brain and this man is calling the shots. The room darkens immediately and he continues walking until we are at the tattoo chair. He sets me down, placing my feet on his shoulders and kissing my lips, my neck, and all over my chest while his hands unbuckle my overalls. “Ass up,” he adds and when I comply, he pulls them off of me in one swipe.

His hands go back to my body, roaming freely and leaving no inch of skin untouched. As his fingers creep under my tank top and touch the underside of my breast, he finds no bra and his eyes immediately snap to mine. Watching them darken with desire makes me even wetter than I already was. He kisses my navel, letting his calloused hands touch both my nipples. He twists and turns them, making me arch off the chair. One of his hands pins me down while he bites right above my panty line. “Fuck, princesa, how wet are you for me right now?” he growls.

“Dryer than the Sahara,” I sass, trying to hide how my body reacts to him.

His nose dips onto my panties and he drags it right in the middle of my pussy, rubbing against it as he looks up and says, “Bullshit. Not only I can practically feel you dripping for me already, I can smell how turned on you are.” He digs his fingers into the panty line and pulls them down painfully slowly. “Damn, Roe, you’re fucking perfect,” he adds, placing my foot on top of his shoulder and using one of his hands to pin me down.

“I thought—” I pant, not finishing my sentence because this man just licked me, flattening his tongue and ensuring I feel every single bit of that touch against my sex.

“No thinking. If you’re thinking, I’m doing something wrong, and I know that I’m not.” He winks at me before lowering back down to lick me again. I squirm under his touch, to try to get away from this hold. I don’t know why I’m trying to escape because this right here is what dreams are made of.

My moans fill the dark tattoo shop as my eyes stare at this man’s head between my thighs on the ceiling mirror above us. He licks and nips at my clit while humming in satisfaction every time I moan or say his name. I tighten my legs around his head because this feels like a mixture of too good but also not good enough. “More,” I demand, out of breath and with lust in my voice.

He looks up, but he can see that I’m not looking at him, that I’m looking up. He follows my gaze and sees the same view I have: me partially naked, opened to him on the tattoo chair, with him on his knees between my legs. The best fucking reflection on the mirror. “Mierda, Roe. Eres perfecta.” He rubs his hands on my thighs, squeezing tightly and bringing his gaze back down to my center. “Fucking perfect,” he murmurs before adding two fingers into my pussy, making me see stars.

“Saint,” I whisper.

“Tell me, princesa, how do you want to come? All over my fingers while I look at you in the mirror, or with my mouth on your pretty pussy?”

Fuck . “Both,” I answer.

“Ask me nicely,” he says with a smug grin.

“Make me,” I snap back.

“Gladly,” he adds before putting his head back down and licking me in the most sensitive spot while pumping his fingers inside of me. The echoes of his movements mixed with my cries are sinful. I watch as his shiny black hair moves with the rhythm that he’s licking me while he grabs my waist, putting pressure against my skin to the point that I’m sure it’ll have a mark but giving zero fucks about that. He adds another finger, making me drop my knees and open more to him.

He’s touching all the right places. He licks and nips while humming against me, making me break out in goosebumps from my head to my toes. His fingers inside of me fill me up and touch every sensitive spot. I’m close; I can feel the warm sensation building in my core, and the fact that this man is about to make me come more times in three days than any other man in my lifetime is impressive. “Ah, Saint, I’m—” I get cut off mid-sentence because this motherfucker lifts his mouth from my pussy and stops moving his fingers. His eyes are molten as he watches my chest rise and fall but he stopped, completely frozen in place. What the hell?

“Ask—” He licks one time. “Nicely.” And bites my clit. The fucking asshole.

“No,” I snap, challenging him with my stare. Daring him to do what we both know deep down he wants. His index finger brushes against my clit and I bite my lip, writhing in pleasure. He stops though; he’s just giving me enough to make me squirm but not enough to make me finish. He’s playing with fire but what he doesn’t know is I like to burn. I bring my hand down, touching my chest and tracing the middle of my belly toward my pelvis and coursing straight to my clit. Before I can touch right where I want, he grabs my hand, pinning it next to my head. Grabbing my right hand and placing it with the left, he is now pinning both my wrists in one hand.

He shakes his head with a grimace. “No, princesa. I’m the only one allowed to make you come.”

I squirm and twist but he is pinning my hip with one of his giant hands and my hands with his other one. I’m at his mercy, and this is exactly how he wants me. I shouldn’t be as turned on as I am right now, but fucking hell, this is so fucking hotter.

“Ask nicely,” he commands again, brushing my clit with his thumb.

“No,” I fight back.

“I have all day, mu?eca? 1 .” His lips close over my clit again, sucking and flicking his tongue against it. He’s driving me wild. Fucking insane. Erasing any desire other than the fact that I want him inside of me. NOW. He grabs my hip, digging in his fingertips while scraping his teeth over my sensitive spot. I’m burning under his touch and then, mother fucker, he stops again.

“Agh, stop edging me, you jerk,” I sass.

“Ask. Nicely,” he replies. His willpower is stronger than I thought. I lift my pelvis, signaling for him to lower his mouth on me again but he doesn’t. He waits for me to say something. Again.

“Ask nicely, princesa. Stop being a brat,” he says.

And I must be a masochist, because what I really should say to him is please but what comes out of my mouth is, “If you think I’m a brat, why don’t you spank me then?”

That unleashes the beast that I hoped it would. Demanding his wild, releasing his control. In one quick movement he flips me over, laying me flat on my chest and placing his arm under my pelvis, lifting my ass in the air.

He does exactly what I ask and spanks me on my left cheek, hard. With a loud snap and a sting, I hiss but before I can truly feel the pain, he licks it. His tongue is flat and wet against my ass cheek and I’m about to spiral. “Such a brat. I have no issues showing you that your orgasm is mine. All you need to say is one pretty little word and I’ll have you coming on my fingers in seconds,” he growls with lust in his voice, his dick pressing hard against my ass.

My pussy is throbbing with need. I wonder if I can manage to touch myself and provide some relief, if he’ll let me, but no matter how much I try though, I can’t get out of his hold. “No,” I say again, but this time it comes out shaky and he laughs—a deep, raspy laugh.

Another smack on the ass, a lick, and a kiss. I can’t do it anymore. I’m done acting tough. He bites my ass cheek in the same spot he just spanked it and rubs over my clit with his finger. I’ve had enough. I wiggle against his face and let out a loud, “Please.”

“Please what?” His finger presses harder, his teeth sink deeper, and his tongue touches my skin slightly. Fuck .

“Please, make me come.” And boom. The magic words were said, and the genie came to play.

He spanks my cheek again, pushing two fingers in me and curving them at the same time that he licks the sensitive spot he just spanked. “Let go,” he says and those words finally push me over the edge.

Shaking and twisting on his hand, I come hard as he holds me tight in place. “That’s it, princesa,” He encourages. But when I stay quiet, he continues. “Don’t hold back now, let me hear you scream.” His thumb touches the puckered skin between my ass cheeks. I’m officially dead. Limp on his hold, I immediately begin screaming his name over and over again until I collapse over the chair.

I stay here, lifeless, for what feels like hours but in reality, it’s probably a couple of minutes. Saint pulls my ass back toward him. “I can’t do anything. I’m spent,” I whine, earning me a chuckle.

“Tranquila,” he says, standing me up and pulling my panties and overalls on me. He snaps the buckles and kisses my forehead. “All set.” He walks away from me with his boner in his pants, leaving me confused and mushy.

“Wait, what does that mean?” I ask.

“That you are ready to go,” he replies.

“No, not all set. What does that word mean, tanquina or something.” I feel so stupid but I need to know. I guess I should’ve paid more attention in Spanish class.

He smiles. “It’s pronounced tranquila ,” he says, “and in that context, it means easy or relax .”

“Ah, got it. Thanks. Are you gonna take care of that?” I ask, pointing at his pants.

He adjusts himself and shakes his head. “This,” he says while pointing at the chair, and I’m sure my cheeks redden, “was not about me.”

He stands there looking at me. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. My heartbeat drops.

“5:00am tomorrow?” he asks. My eyes open wide in surprise.

“For what?” I ask.

“To train. Adios? 2 , princesa.”

Without uttering another word, he unlocks the door and walks out, leaving me unraveled and sated.

1 ? mu?eca: doll

2 ? Adios: Good bye