Michelle and Ricardo

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elledee
elledee
80 Followers

"You're beautiful." He breathed into her neck. "Why do you deny me?" His hands slid up her sides and his touch tingles like sparks of electricity. "Give yourself to me."

"I don't have to. My parents already gave me to you." She said bitterly.

"That's not what I want." He sat up, still between her legs. She followed his gaze and every muscle in her body tightened as she realized what he was looking at. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Her pussy damn near took his breath away. It was just spread enough to allow him to see where the liquid chocolate of her flesh morphed into a molten pink deeper inside of her. She would have given anything to simply melt into the mattress, but she knew nothing could spare her from the humiliation of knowing he was looking at her most intimate body parts. Her pussy was completely bare and he wondered who she was fucking that asked her to keep it that way. Suddenly, her back arched of the bed. He hadn't necessarily done it on purpose, but somehow his index finger had found its way deep inside her. The look on her face only spurred him on as he watched her lips tremble and her eyes squeeze shut. As he rotated his wrist while thrusting his finger inside her, her eyes flew open and she looked up in him in surprise.

"Stop, please." She groaned. This was so wrong. He shouldn't be touching her in such a way.

"Relax." He whispered. "Let me do this for you." He thrust harder, feeling her wetness slide down his fingers.

"I don't...I don't want it." She whimpered between breaths. Despite her protestations, he thumbed her clit sending intense sensations up into her hips. He could literally see the muscles in her abdomen tighten as her orgasm rolled over her. She was breathless and shaking, trying to pull his hand out of her body. Words wouldn't come to her, so she pleaded with her eyes when the pleasure became too much. He ignored her and quickly thrust a third finger into her, stretching her. "Fuuuuck..." She moaned as her body convulsed around his fingers. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers so tightly that he didn't want to risk hurting her by attempting to pull them out. God, she had the sexiest fuck face in the world, as he knew she would. She threw her head back into the pillow, her lips slightly parted, as her eyes narrowed to little slits. He watched her come around his fingers until she completely relaxed. His fingers slid out of her slickness and she turned on her side, shocked and disappointed by how easily she submitted to him, came for him, moaned for him. She hated him.

"Michelle..." he called her softly as she grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her body, covering her naked form. She didn't respond. Sighing, he grabbed her and tried to turn her around. They wrestled for a moment as she still somehow managed to keep the pillow covering the front of her body. If the smell of her sex wasn't in the air making his dick hard, he would have thought it was cute. But instead it was simply frustrating. "Michelle!" He grabbed her and roughly turned her body towards him. The wide eyed look she gave him made him slightly regret being so rough, but it was her own fault.

"What?" she mumbled into her pillow.

"What is wrong with you???" No answer. "Look at me or I'm taking the pillow." She kept the bottom half of her face buried, but exposed her eyes to look up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to be your whore and that's what you're making me into."

"I'm not making you a whore. I'm not leaving any cash on the dresser at the end of the night." He logic-ed, much to her annoyance.

"You know what I mean! This is immoral! And I feel like a slut." She ducked behind her pillow again, embarrassed at her confession. Ricardo pulled the pillow down a little.

"How can you feel like a slut?" He asked softly, caressing her forehead. "I've brought you pleasure and not asked for anything in return, except for you to relax."

"You don't understand." She responded helplessly. He pulled the pillow from her and pressed his lips to hers. "Ricardo, please." She whispered, her lips brushing his as she spoke. "My heart can't take all this." He kissed her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth. If only she knew, that was what made her so irresistible. He wrapped his arms around her losing himself in the smooth warmth of her skin as he stroked her tongue with his. He was gentle with her, wanting to coax her to kiss him back. And she did a little, submitting to the press of his body against hers. The closeness, her body and mind longed for it more than she had ever longed for the closeness of a person in her life. He held her a little tighter, wishing he could feel more of his skin against hers. Suddenly, he let her go and stood.

"I don't want to....I'm not going to make love to you tonight." He said raspily, shoving a hand through his hair. "But I want you to spend the night with me. If I try to...if you get uncomfortable...too uncomfortable...then you can leave. Deal?" she nodded her head as she pulled the pillow back in front of her. He nodded too, and turned to leave.

She laid there for a few moments collecting her thoughts. Her mind was restless, unable to force on one thing before rushing off to try to make sense of another. Eventually, she simply decided to get dressed and try to find his room. It would probably take forever. She had forgotten to ask which was his.

It only took her a few minutes to find Ricardo's room. Once she realized his wasn't on the same floor as her own, she headed upstairs and simply followed the sound of his voice and as she got closer, she saw the faint light beneath the door. Drawing in a deep breath, she tapped on the frame of the door. The door opened and she stepped inside.

Quickly, telling someone to "just handle it", he ended the phone call. Michelle perched herself on the edge of his bed trying not to stare at him. He only had on a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and the sight of his chiseled abs made her want to run her tongue right up the center of his stomach. If only he wasn't...him. Michelle picked at her cuticles, nervous and anxious about spending the night with him. She knew she wasn't ready to have sex with him, and she didn't trust him not to try to fuck her. She also didn't trust him to hold up his end of their bargain. Her body became rigid as she felt the smoothness of his palm against her cheek. Everything in her wanted to pull away but she knew there would be no point. He could and would have her exactly how he wanted her regardless of what she said. The idea that she had to fight her initial instinct to lean in to the comfort and warmth of his hand disgusted her.

"Are you tired at all?" He asked. She only nodded in response and followed his lead as he slid beneath the covers, pulling them up to her chin.

"Ricardo?"

"Yes." Turning to face her, he pulled the comforter away from her face.

"Why me? I mean, why choose me? So many other women would come to you willingly. Gorgeous women who would...do anything to be close to you." Maintaining eye contact was impossible as she asked the question that had been wracking her mind. There had to be ways to get payment from her parents other than accepting their only child. He could have taken the house, their car, anything.

"You're gorgeous and you will eventually come to me willingly." Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he could see the exasperation all over her face. She was so cute.

She hated him. She wished she could ball him up like a little piece of paper and stomp on him and then pick him up and tear him up into tiny pieces. Her chest was tight with the frustration of his half-answer and the helpless hopelessness of her situation. Finally, she turned on her side putting her back to him, promising herself that she would focus on falling asleep.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes until Ricardo couldn't help himself. He wrapped an arm around her and drew her to him.

"Let me go." She mumbled into her pillow.

"No." he said blandly, making himself comfortable.

"I hate you." He didn't reply, only buried his nose in her hair. It smelled like white grapes. Soon enough, she found herself slipping into a dreamless sleep.

Michelle awoke to the sound of rushing water. The sunlight barely managed to stream in through the thick curtains and cast thin slivers of pale light across the hardwood floor. Ricardo emerged from his bathroom, still in his pajama pants, greeted by her sleepy gaze.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly. She shook her head and snuggled deeper beneath the covers. "Still not ready to get up?" She shook her head no again. Her lips seemed fuller after her night of slumber and her hair was slightly disheveled, like she had just been kissed passionately. He fought the not so subtle stirring that yelled to him to take her as she looked up at him beneath hooded eyelids.

"Are you going to work soon?" she murmured sleepily.

"Mmm hmm." He replied stroking her hair. She blinked and began to move from beneath the blankets.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't want to be in your way while you're getting dressed." She blinked again, trying to wake herself up.

"You aren't in my way. Don't leave." She relented wordlessly, falling back into his pillows.

Michelle watched him, burrowing in his blankets until only her eyes were showing. Her gaze lazily followed him as he readied himself for work. Every once in a while he would glance at her, catching her eyes with his own. She puzzled him. One minute she was perfectly calm, the next she was a cold angry being whose eyes seemed to flash red, and another she was sobbing inconsolably. Fully dressed, he returned to her side of the bed.

"Yes?" she said after a moment of him watching her.

"Would you like to come to the office with me?"

"No." He laughed out loud at her blunt response.

"Why not?"

"Doesn't seem like a safe place to be. And I don't want to be seen with you." She shifted again beneath his blanket making herself more comfortable. He couldn't help but smirk at her response. She was so damned difficult. Most people found themselves trying to be as accommodating as possible towards him, but she seemed as though she could care less about what he wanted. He slid a hand into the warmth she had created beneath the covers and then beneath her top. She gasped softly from his touch on her skin. "Your hands are cold." She exhaled.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, bending to pull her from her cocoon. He helped her to her feet and searched her eyes for something, any glimmer of affection towards him. She only looked back at him, her eyes searching as well. For what, she wasn't sure, and that only made her search harder.

"I-" she started.

"Last night," he interrupted, "You asked me why I chose you from the other women who want me. Do you still want the answer?" She nodded in response. "Because you are unlike any other woman I had ever seen." She started to pull away, thinking he was bullshitting her, thinking sweet words would win her to his side. "Listen." He brought her back into his arms. "Not just physically. How loyal you are to your family, you work and keep nothing for yourself. You're selfless. You're sensitive. Your heart is open and vulnerable."

"Please." She begged struggling in his arms. Tears were stabbing violently at the backs of her eyes trying to force their way forth. "Stop. I don't want to hear this." The more she struggle the tighter he seemed to hold her, so she allowed her entire body to relax, becoming dead weight in his arms. It was sudden and his quick reflexes were the only thing that kept her from hitting the floor. He held her up and placed her back on the bed.

"I hate you." She spat bitterly. "I hate you, and you don't know anything about me. You don't know anything about me!" She pressed a pillow over her mouth and screamed out every last drop of anger towards Ricardo, her parents, God; every sorrow her heart ever felt; every bit of paralyzing helplessness she felt from the situation, into that pillow. It tore at Ricardo to hear it. Even the pillow couldn't muffle the emotional agony that consumed her. He had never heard anything like it, and he had heard men screaming in pain from the loss of limbs, begging for mercy. None of it had seemed so desperate as this. After she screamed, she wrapped her body around the pillow and wept softly, her body shaking gently.

"Michelle." He touched her arm and her body became instantly rigid.

"Don't. Touch. Me." Her voice was so cold, it almost scared him. Almost.

"Michelle. Get up. We're going out."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Let me go, you fucking barbarian!" She thrashed wildly. He pretended to drop her, causing her to clutch his body in fear. He swatted the back of her thigh enough to sting.

"Stop acting up." Surprise more that actual acquiescence kept her still until her got her to her room. He set her feet on the floor when he got her to the room and looked at her sternly. Her arms were crossed angrily in front her chest and she wouldn't look at him. "I know you're angry. I can't even imagine how angry, or what other emotions you're feeling right now. But you're here now. With me. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you, if I can help it. There are rules, Michelle. And I make them. Go pull yourself together. We're going out."

By the time he finished his speech, her bottom lip was trembling as she fought more tears. Fuck. When she looked up at him quickly with those big brown glassy eyes, he caved. Her body seemed to sag from the weight of the stress of the past day. She turned from him, right after she felt a tear mark her cheek. Shaking his head at his coarse management of her, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Neither spoke as she turned to bury her face in his chest. He held her as she sobbed, and she began to hate herself all over again. Seeking solace in the arms of the one who caused her pain. He guided her to the bed and they lay there in her bed him cradling her as she cried at the reality of his words. There are rules, Michelle. And I make them.

"I shouldn't have spoken that way." He said almost as if he could read her mind. Ricardo had held her for at least an hour before speaking. His immaculately pressed suit was about as wrinkled as it could get and her hair was matted completely on one side of her head. She didn't respond. Sliding out of his arms, she got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. Not bothering to close the door, she started the shower and stripped her clothes. Showers always made her feel better during hard emotional times. It was like she could temporarily wash away the pain. He got out of the bed and followed her after a moment. She was oblivious to him, staring blankly ahead as she detangled her hair. The water splattered shower door and beginnings of steam slightly obscured her figure, but he felt like he would know her body anywhere. She stood beneath the shower head and rinsed out the conditioner, her hair forming tight ringlets. As sexy as the sight was, the sadness that sat heavily on her features kept him from truly becoming aroused at the sight. Stepping out of her peripheral vision, he undressed actually scared of her imminent reaction. When the shower door opened she stepped back with nowhere to go, frightened. She relaxed, realizing it was him, but then tensed again realizing it was him. He took her loofah from turned her around. Starting at her neck he began to wash her, gently kneading her muscles as he worked his way down. She became gelatin in his arms, even forgetting to become nervous when he dropped to his knees and slid his hands between her inner thighs and up to her pussy. When he rose again, she made no effort to turn around and he realized that she had been leaning against the shower wall. Her eyes were half closed.

"Please don't stop." She said barely audible over the perpetual sound of the water.

"Turn around." She obeyed, looking up at him. Her cheeks were wet, but he didn't know from what. He squirted more body wash onto the loofah and started on the front of her. He watched her face as he washed her. There was sex in her eyes, all over her face. Though he knew he wasn't misinterpreting the look, he was still apprehensive about acting on it. He wanted her, no regrets. He washed her breasts and moved his hand down her torso. Her eyes practically begged him to touch her there, to make her come.

"Don't make this hard for me." He breathed in her ear. She only continued to give him the same look. Telling him to take her. He dropped the loofah and placed his hands on her hips. They trembled slightly as he waited for her to protest. She only spread her legs slightly and placed a hand on his shoulder. He touched her sex and watched as her teeth caught her bottom lip. He stroked her gently between her lips and felt her grip his shoulder tighter. "Are you ready?" She only nodded and placed one of his hands on her thigh. He lifted it and placed his dick at the entrance to her. His heart thudded in his chest, heavy like and anvil. She looked into his eyes, waiting, feeling the muscles of her pussy spasm in anticipation. Her lips parted and her eyelids lowered as she felt him enter her.

God, she was beautiful. And tight. And so wet. And hot. Fuck. He stroked her burying himself in her. She gasped from the fullness of him before he was fully in her. She whimpered as he pushed further, stretching her. He could hear her breath become ragged in his ear as the water beat against his back. Her nails dug into his arms as he held her up. He stroked her slowly, torturing himself and her. God, he had waited so long for her and she was everything he imagined. He felt her body tighten and then begin to tremble. Was she coming already? The moans that slipped softly from her throat told him she must have been. That and the way her pussy gripped him a little tighter. Did he have any clue what he was doing to her? Each time he stroked her, he stroked her clit, equally as slow, building the sweetest of orgasms within her. She clung to him, wanting another, just one more. Just one more would make everything better. She looked into his eyes trying to tell him. To make him understand.

He pulled out of her abruptly, causing her to exhale in shock and disappointment. He turned off the shower and pulled her out. She followed him, confused. Then just as abruptly, his mouth took hers, kissing her deeply as he pushed her back against a wall, his tongue thrusting against hers as his fingers dug into her flesh greedily. He lifted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. He was in her again and it was exquisite. She shook as he thrust more forcefully into her, his mouth still on hers. He couldn't get deep enough into her. He wanted to lose himself in her. Drown in fucking her, sexing her, making love to her. Her body became his as he pounded into her, her cries begging him to stop and continue all in the same moan. She whimpered his name as she came again, tears of sheer ecstasy streaking her face.

"You are mine." He breathed harshly in her ear. "And no one else's. This pussy," he breathed stroking her harder, "Is mine. You are mine."

He pulled out of her, turning her and pushing her against the counter top. He pulled her hair drawing her gaze up to the mirror. Her entire body was trembling, even her lips as she looked upon herself and him in the mirror. Before she could speak, he was in her again. Her pussy was even tighter now after two orgasms and she whined softly from slight pain he caused from entering her. He was completely still as he watched her body in the mirror noting how gorgeous her dark skin looked against the olive tone of his own. How her chocolaty nipples stood out proudly atop her breasts.

elledee
elledee
80 Followers