Page 39 of The Replay

Reality bends. In the brief second that follows, I question my sense. What the hell are we doing? But it all disappears when she pulls down on the waistband of my shorts, dropping them to the floor.

"We will figure it out." She licks her bottom lip. "How to coexist. Today…"

She rakes her fingers down my underwear, just to the side of my erection. Shivers dart down my back. I gulp. She looks into my eyes, giving me time to change my mind. I forget every warning I might have heeded.

"Today," she says, "we can release stress in the worst way possible."

"Or in the best way." I run my hands up her thick thighs. "Just once."

"I have a condom in my bag."

She dropped her purse on the table at some point. I grab it and dig into it. She undoes the button of her pants and pushes everything down.

Her hand goes to my cock. Air leaves my lungs in a hard breath. If I manage to keep my eyes open, it's only because I'm busy fishing the condom out and tearing open the foil.

Her hands on me are already making me see white.

"I'm still going to be angry," I say. "I may still make you hate me."

"God, you infuriate me these days." She takes my dick out of my underwear.

White. Red. Stars. Glorious tension. I need to push into her body and forget everything else.

"And yet…" I manage to roll the condom down my shaft. "You still crave my cock inside you."

I grab my shaft and notch myself in her entrance.

"Quick," she says. "Don't be gentle."

I take her at her word, and I push forward in one swift move.

"La tercera es la vencida," I groan.

You win on the third try. And after letting her go and then calling her, this is my third time trying to get over her.

Surrounded in her wet heat, I can make it make sense.

A moan leaves her. It's one of the many sounds she'd make when I took her. She always loved this moment, and I prolong it this time, too. I hold still. Seated deep into Mariana once more. But I lose it when she digs her nails at my waist, silently asking me for more.

I thrust. Pound into her. Fast enough that neither of us can think. The pleasure on her face tells me I don't have to slow down. The sounds she makes drive me wild, and it shows in the way I use her.

I surround her neck with both hands and work her with my cock deep in her. Her breathing rasps under my thumbs, my palms, and I squeeze a little tighter.

"Dom," she utters.

Her eyes open.

Fuck. I could control her. Get her to do my bidding, just by exerting pressure on her throat. The idea is so tempting that I punish myself by pulling my hands back. I rake my fingers down to her shoulders, then dig them between her arms and her waist. Hard. I grab the rolls of her hips, and use it as leverage to quicken my hips.

She clings to my shoulders. Drops her head back. Her eyes close, but mine don't. I change the angle in which I'm fucking her, and close my lips on her throat. Punishment needs to exist in a balance, and I nip at her, too.

We don't talk. Perhaps because we know this is a moment of weakness, and we don't want to admit it out loud. I move in her, she clings to me and, every time I check, her eyes are closed. A wrinkle marks her brow. All we have for company is the breathless sounds we make. The creak of the desk as we make it quake. The rhythmic pattern in which it hits the wall with the force of my movements.

This room will keep our secret.

No one has to know the wonder and pain blending in my chest, being like this with Mariana again.

Not even Mariana herself.