"Mateo, I want you to fuck me," I pant, the words tumbling out like a prayer. My body's trembling with need, every muscle begging him to push further.
He lifts his mouth from my chest, trailing kisses back up my neck before brushing his lips against mine. For a moment, I think he's going to give in. But then, in a cruel twist, he whispers against my mouth, "No."
My eyes snap open, confusion flooding me. "What?" My voice is breathless, stunned.
"I'm not gonna fuck you yet." His tone is quiet, but firm, almost gentle despite the tension thrumming between us. "I always rush into things. I don't wanna do that with you. I wanna take it slow."
The words hit me harder than his hands ever could. My chest aches with frustration. "You can't just, just get me like this and then pull away," I whine, sounding desperate even to my own ears. "That's torture."
He smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. "If you don't stop whining, I'll tie you up and make you quiver until you beg me to stop."
