I Thought This Phase Would Be Over By Now

After he’d told you that he liked the sounds you made while repeatedly lowering yourself onto him, so much so that he wanted to keep them all for himself, he scooped you up into his arms. He’d hauled you upward as he stood, you wrapping your legs around him with his length still seated firmly inside you. Pero’s strong arms kept you in place, his hands curling around your sides as he physically displayed you as his. Not a single man said a thing as he turned to take you upstairs, and with steps three times as big as yours, he ascends the stairwell, already well aware of which door leads to your room.

You pass many women on the journey upward, all of which you know, and all of which know him. Though they’ve never slept with him, no one else has since the two of you met.

“Hermosa,” he asks, shutting the door behind him with his foot. (Beautiful)

He strides forward, laying you down on your bed, sliding out from your heat in doing so. You stare up at him with loving eyes as he leans back to his upright stance, thick fingers moving to begin untying his armor.

“Has another man had you this night?”

You move, sitting up on your forearms with a concerned expression on your face. He’s never asked you this before. “What?”

“Has another man been inside you tonight, amor?” (love)

Amor. He’s called you many things, but never amor.

“N – no…” you whisper, looking up at him with timid eyes. Why is he asking you this?

“Good.” He sighs, shrugging off his upper layers before lowering to his knees.

Pero’s broad palms find the bare skin of your calves, fingers curling around and hauling you towards the end of the bed. You yelp quietly, gasping as you watch him dive down between your thighs.

“P – Pero!” you shriek, immediately feeling the sensation of his lips.

He covers you entirely, opening his mouth and humming lowly. You lean up even further, attempting to look down but his right hand slides up to the dip between your chest to shove you down. You’ve never felt him here before, you’ve never felt any man’s mouth here before. The wet heat of it breathing against your naked core, kissing the soft skin so openly displayed to him.

“Oh,” your eyes roll back before closing, hands rising to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your fully hardened nipples.

Pero’s smile is evident as he drags his tongue up your seam, gently parting your lips. The scruff scattering his jawline and cheeks rubs against your skin, the slight burn only heightening the pleasurable sensation. And then he wraps his lips around your own, sucking them inside. Immediately, your hands fly to his hair, fingers digging into his dirty locks as your legs try to close.

“I want to see you,” he grunts out, the broadness of his shoulders keeping your legs open, his body leaning into you and spreading your legs further apart. “Let me see you.”

He groans, having felt this need desperately while he was gone. He knew when he returned that he’d do this to you before claiming you for his own, once and for all.

It’s almost as if he’s done this before, moving upward to sloppily suck your clit inside before shoving two fingers into you. The roughness of his tastebuds drags over your sensitive clitoris, making your body feel boneless. You force every last active braincell you have to focus on the moment at hand, to focus on the pleasure he’s blessing you with. Your body curls, back arching upward for him as he pleasures you in this way.

The two of you were drawn to each other, there was no denying that, but when it came to sex, you did still have a job to do. And that job was pleasing him. Oftentimes, you put your mouth on him, not the other way around.

Suddenly, he pulls away, panting as he stares down at you. This time, he allows you to look, lazily lifting your head to see why he took his mouth away from you. And when your eyes finally zero in on his glorious form, hunched over and half-naked above you, you see him stare. He’s focused on the space between your legs, wet from his spit and your slick, the pace of his fingers unwavering.

“Pero…”

In the dim light of your bedchamber, you try to close your legs, feeling sheepish beneath his intense and lusty gaze. Those impossibly dark eyes rise to meet your own, a devilish smirk on his face.

“You’re staring,” it comes out on its own, without reason, and as a whisper.

“Can I not stare?” he taunts, tilting his head and licking his lower lip. “You’re so beautiful, cariño…” (baby)

His eyeline then flickers down, moving his fingers a little more forcefully into you, just to hear the beautiful sound you make. And then he looks back up, cooing to you with a sly smirk, “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

“I, I…”

“Tell me, princesa.” He demands, his rough voice low and teasing. “Do I make you nervous? Do you not like when I stare? Stare at your incredible body, sitting here and waiting all for me?”

“All for, for you?”

He leans in, removing his fingers and grabbing your jaw with his slick-soaked skin.

“All for me.”

It makes you gasp, the way he holds your face, the way he climbs further up on the bed to crowd your body with his own. On his way up, he shoves his pants the rest of the way down, having already been half-undone.

He’s never been so possessive over you before. Of course, whenever he was home, you were with him and him alone. But the words he’s using… they are words you’ve never heard from him before.

“Do you want me?” he asks, another question he’s never breathed in your direction.

“Yes, I do.” It’s immediate, your fingers intertwining behind his neck and pulling him down.

And he complies, moving with your hands and connecting his lips with your own. You’d completely forgotten where those lips had been mere moments ago, the slightly tangy taste now littering your taste buds as his tongue wiggles inside to slide along yours.

“Did you…” you mutter, holding his face in your hands. You stroke Pero’s strong jawline, watching his eyes dip down to your lips. “Like it?”

“Do you?” he asks, slowly sliding his tongue along your lower lip.

“Lick.” He says with a nod, watching you poke out your tongue to move it along the wet skin. And when you smile, he grins. “Dirty. I missed you.”

With that, he dives down to your neck, holding himself up on his left forearm, his right hand moving down to grip himself in hand. Pero’s ragged breaths fan out over the junction of your shoulder and neck, the bulk of his bicep resting beside your head. And your nails dig into his skin when you feel him again, the hefty intrusion of his length returning to fill your insides up. You’re already used to him, having fully felt him downstairs. Whenever the two of you were apart for too long, the stretch was always pleasurably painful. And right now, you just want more.

He sighs out roughly into your ear when he’s fully sheathed inside, settling more of his body weight to rest above you. And then, he turns his head, quietly requesting, “Whimper for me.”

And you do, crying out when he grinds his pelvis between your legs, feeling him throb as he’s seated deep inside. The sensation of him filling you entirely is incredible, but when he retracts his hips only to immediately re-sheathe himself inside? That feels ethereal.

“Hermosa,” he groans, teeth nipping at your lower ear. “There are so many things I want to do to you… you’re all I think of when I am away.” (Beautiful)

You gasp softly at his words, nails scraping down his skin because you know he likes it.

“You’re the only woman on my mind. Do you know that?” He’s panting above you, his hips picking up their pace, his powerful thighs flexing above you. “It kills me to think of you with other men, princesa.” (Princess)

He delivers a particularly hard thrust when he says that word, when he tells you just how much it pains him. And on the inside, it pains you too. Every man you’ve been with since meeting Pero, you’ve imagined to be him. And it wasn’t always hard to do, usually being fucked from behind or choosing to keep your eyes closed as they brought pleasure to you, and you to them. It was never intimate with them, not like it is when it’s the two of you.

“And I thought to myself,” he continues to ramble, slapping his hips down onto yours, his left hand moving to hold the underside of your head. “It is wrong of me to think such things, to want a woman who is not promised to me in that way.”

He looks so beautiful like this, his bronzed skin almost glowing in the dim candlelight. He’s sweating, his locks as dark as the bark of an oak curling and sliding across his forehead.

“But it’s not wrong, princesa.” He smiles briefly at his words, huffing out an intense breath of air. “Because I want you.” (Princess)

Before you can respond, he pulls out, resting back on his heels.

“Pero, I –”

Both of his hands grab onto your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach in one smooth slide. You move with him, of course, feeling Pero’s large and capable body return to your much smaller and pliant one. His skin feels hot and slightly wet, having had to carry the weight of his chainmail for so many days. He fits himself to you, both hands falling to your ass and spreading you beneath him. He sways his hips slightly, realigning himself before thrusting back in.

“Fuck,” your fingers grip the bedsheets you’ve ruined far too many times, face pressing into the pillow that you’re thankful is clean. “Pero, Pero…”

His movements have increased, uncaring to your loud cries and shrieks. He knows he’s not hurting you, no… he knows this is what you want. What you crave. No one handles you the way he does, you don’t put enough trust in them to be so rough with you.

“Have you ever had someone lick you before, bonita niña?” (pretty girl)

He’s leaning down, brushing his cheek alongside yours before licking a stripe up the outer shell of your ear. You make him ravenous, and it makes your body shiver, skin prickling with arousal and excitement.

“No… I’ve never done something like that before.”

“Has a man ever made you his before?” he then asks, sucking a deep mark onto your neck with his fervent teeth. “Has a man ever asked you to be his?”

“No,”

“Now he has.”

“Pero –” it’s like you can’t even speak, like he’s stealing the breath from your lungs, the thoughts from your mind. Is he asking for this? Truly asking to be with you?

Pero’s muscular arms curl beneath your body, wrapping around and holding you close. He hasn’t eased up on his speed, his body slapping down on yours. He’s punching himself inside, hitting incredibly deep. It already hurts, only ever so slightly, and you know you’ll feel him for the days to come. Hopefully you’ll still feel him during the days he’s away, too.

“Would you?” he asks, breaths rapidly puffing out above you, his thick fingers pressing into your skin.

“Baby?” you respond questioningly, needing more clarification in your weightless state.

“Will you be mine, princesa? Mine and mine alone.” (Princess)

Pero’s body curls over you, humping your body as he fucks himself further into you, giving you everything he has. He groans when he feels you tighten around him, hearing you girlish whines and moans beneath his heavy body. And you rock with each of his shoves, feeling him plunge deeper inside with every thrust.

You have no idea how to respond, because you want to be his, but how will that work? How? But you can’t even begin to sort it out so instead you just say yes, yes Pero, I will be yours. Yes.

The firm press of his lips on your cheek tells you how happy he is, that beautiful yet extremely rare smile crossing his face. And then his mouth opens, his humid breaths hitting your skin.

“Ngh,” he groans loudly into your ear, his voice gravelly and deep as he speaks. “I’m close, princesa.” (Princess)

“Please,” you beg, turning your head toward him, immediately feeling him press his forehead to your temple. “Inside.”

“Of course I will,” he grunts out, his thrusts now becoming shallow and sharp. “I will make you mine princesa, no one will fill your womb but me.” (Princess)

“Pero, I want you, baby…” you’re coming to your senses suddenly, feeling yourself become close, too.

“You’re close, amor. I can feel you tightening around me,” (love)

“Please make me, Pero. No one does, not like you.”

At your words he dives deeper, giving you a half dozen more shoves before he’s grinding against you, seated as deeply inside you as he can get. Pero moves his head, punched-out groans echoing behind you in your small room. His forehead rests on your upper back, laying between your shoulder blades. He does his best to steady himself, the sensation of his own orgasm heightened by your own as your cry out below. Your body shakes beneath him, writhing slightly in his tight hold. And he moves with you, his pelvis grinding against you, his deep thrusts punching hard enough against that special place inside to make you cum.

“Amor,” he chokes out, feeling himself release inside you, his body going rigid right before his release. (Love)

Your moans waft through the air at the sudden burst of euphoria flowing through you. And you can feel him inside, too, a moment particularly special to you. It wasn’t that it didn’t happen often with others, you never came with others. They didn’t care enough to make you, to fuck you long enough or hard enough for you to. And not only did Pero make you cum, but he usually made you cum with him, alongside him, riding through it with you.

If Pero knew your bedsheets were clean, he’d stay that night and sleep with you. And if they weren’t clean, he’d take them off and find you new ones. But tonight, they were clean, making it easy for him to pull out of you and lay down on the sheets. Gently, he pulled you over to him, moving you onto your back, and then your side, a tiny smile creeping onto his face when he feels you cuddle into him. You intertwine your legs with his, heart swelling with joy when you feel his arm wrap tightly around you.

“Amor,” he whispers, broad hand brushing your messy hair out of your face before leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not leaving.” (Love)

“Hm?” you look up at him, meeting those deep yet loving eyes.

“I’m not leaving.” He repeats, holding your face in his warm hand. “I’m here to stay, I’m home.”

“But, how? Why?”

“Because I need to be with you, mi bonita niña.” (my pretty girl)

He admits it quietly, and your lips part in slight surprise. He’s not usually so openly emotional with you. It happened on rare occasions, and when it did, you felt blessed to receive such affection from him.

“I’ve earned enough coin on my recent trip. I want you to be happy – not working here.”

You go to open your mouth and claim that you are happy here, but it’d be a complete lie. It’s the independence in you wanting to do so. Because, in all truth, you aren’t happy here. You aren’t happy without him, and you aren’t happy having sex with men that weren’t him.

“Do I make you feel safe?” he asks, staring down into your eyes.

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, nodding your head.

“Do I make you feel happy, hermosa?” (beautiful)

“Yes, Pero.”

“Do I make you feel loved?”

Another question he’s never asked you before. And it makes you think. He does make you feel safe, he does make you happy, but does he make you feel loved?

“Of course you do,” you finally reply. “You always make me feel loved.”

He smiles softly again, leaning in to give you a brief kiss before pulling you even closer to him. You snuggle into his bare chest, feeling his warmth as he wraps you in his arms, surrounding you with his love, Pero’s love.

           “Are you ready, little one?”