Flat on my back in a bed, naked as the day I was born, I study the hand that comfortably rests on my snoozing dick like it’s the world’s oldest mystery.
The hand has smooth, tawny skin and shiny, red nails. It also has a massive, glittering diamond on the ring finger, and that’s a first.
Waking up with someone whose identity escapes my hung-over mind isn’t a first, but I’ve never picked up a married woman before. I can’t exactly recall the night before, but I have a feeling this might not be one of my prouder moments.
The nameless woman is as naked as I am while she sleeps with her head on my chest. Her thick, ebony hair is clinging to the stubble on my unshaven face and halfway draped over her slender shoulder. One of her full, exquisite breasts is pressed against my skin, her puckered nipple right next to mine, and the sight of it breathes life into my cock. It goes rigid under her palm, and her fingers reflexively wrap around it.
“Mmmm…” she breathes, turning her face to nuzzle and kiss my neck. Her hands do a firm, slow, upward stroke of my dick, and I probably shouldn’t be messing around with this woman. The ring on her finger indicates whoever she’s married to is loaded. In a city like Las Vegas, that could be indicative of her husband being involved in any manner of business, including the seedier kind.
And after the year I’ve had, the last thing I need to do is to piss off a bunch of seedy people—again.
But then again, it’s obvious I already fucked this married woman last night, so why not?
If I’m already in trouble, I might as well make the most of it.
Turning my head toward her, I capture her full lips with mine and thread my fingers through her hair, giving it a firm tug to draw her closer. Her fist keeps working my cock as she drapes one leg over my hips and switches to gliding the length of my shaft between the hot, slick lips of her pussy.
“Oh, amor,” she mewls with a flawless Spanish accent, and yikes.
Amor is a little serious for morning-after sex with a married stranger, but fuck it. It’s entirely possible that she’s still drunk from the night before, and not to brag or anything, but I do have that effect on women. And she feels so fucking good against my throbbing dick that she can call me whatever the hell she wants for the next twenty minutes or so.
The nameless, married, Spanish-speaking minx continues to roll her hips against me, each of her moans drawing out longer and getting louder, like she’s going to come without me actually being inside her. And that’s hot as fuck, but also a little unfair, so I blindly reach for the nightstand and grab one of the condoms that I know is there. I pull my lips from hers long enough to rip the foil with my teeth, and she takes it from me, rolling it over my cock while I wrap my large hands around her slender waist.
Her black-as-night hair is falling in thick waves over her shoulders, and I take in the sight of her spectacular body positioned over mine. I don’t know whether to be jealous of her husband for having such a hot wife or pity the poor bastard because she’s cheating on him. Before I can think about it too long, she raises up on her knees to guide my dick to her entrance and buries me to the hilt inside her.
“Aw fuck,” I groan, gripping the flesh of her hips and guiding them to grind against me so I can hit all the right places. “Babe… fuck.”
Babe is a little better than amor, but not by much. But then again, I don’t remember her name, and she looks like she can’t even process my words right now anyway.
Her head drops backward as I thrust my hips harder against her, shoving her irresistible breasts toward me, and I reach to squeeze one.
And that’s when I see it.
Right there on my own left hand.
A ring that wasn’t there yesterday.
Oh fuck.
The thrusts grow fervent and frantic, her moans growing louder, and she clasps her ring-clad hand over mine on her breast.
“Oh, amor,” she gasps. “Cariño… mi amado… mi alma…”
Oh fuck.
That’s the kind of shit my sisters say to their cariños. If this stranger is saying it to me, and I’ve suddenly got a ring on my hand, it’s a really bad sign.
I don’t know what I did last night, but I suddenly have a pretty good guess.
She cries out, her pussy trembling and clenching around my dick, catapulting me to my own blinding climax, and I exhale a long groan that is equal parts ecstasy and God fucking dammit, what the fuck have I done?
Her shoulders heave as she catches her breath in the aftershocks, her fingers digging into the ridges of my abs, and then she leans forward to capture my mouth with a deep kiss. My foggy brain suddenly registers that she tastes minty. Like she’s already been up this morning to freshen up and then got back in bed. Which I guess isn’t that weird. Some of my one-night-stands have done that, and I’ve done that, so I guess it’s not too weird, and I’ve got bigger shit to worry about anyway.
After breaking the kiss, the nameless Latina minx carefully slides off of my dick and curls up next to me again. We lie there in silence for a while, and I absently reach for the condom to remove it, tie it off, and toss it in a wastebasket next to the bed. Aaanndd… now what do I do?
“Mmmm…” she murmurs again, turning her face into my neck and kissing it. “Good morning, cariño.”
Oh man.
“Morning,” I say automatically, then pause as I grasp at straws for what to say next.
She seems oblivious to my awkwardness as she continues to kiss my neck while her shiny, red nails graze my chest. “I hope that’s how you plan to wake me up every morning,” she says with a light, mischievous laugh.
I match her laugh as best as I can. “Yeah…”
FUCK.
What do I fucking do now?
She kisses my neck one more time before pushing herself to sit up. She doesn’t even bother holding the sheet over her spectacular tits as she turns to the nightstand to pick up a bottle of water. Her long, thick, ebony hair is wild, and her skin is glowing, and her scent of cinnamon and warm vanilla is all over my body, and my stupid fucking dick doesn’t understand that we’re in a heap of shit right now, and threatens to rise to the occasion again.
I hastily sit up as well, shifting to the edge of the bed and scanning the floor to locate my boxer briefs. There’s a trail of clothing leading from the living room of the large suite into the bedroom. There’s also an empty bottle of champagne sitting on a dresser, another open one sitting in an ice bucket right next to the first, and a platter of chocolate dipped strawberries that has been picked over. There are also two black velvet ring boxes and a stack of haphazardly folded up papers, and I wonder what the fuck those are.
My boxer briefs are halfway across the room, so I push off the bed, glancing behind me at the nameless minx, who’s now doing a carefree scroll through her phone as she reclines against the headboard. Her hot-as-fuck body is still on full, naked display, and on the luxurious king size bed in the middle of this swanky Vegas suite, she looks like a high-end advertisement for sin. Turning away from her, I scrub my hands over my face and then go swipe my drawers off the floor to pull them on.
“Are you still up for meeting your sisters for breakfast, cariño?”
My eyes nearly fall out of my head.
“Uh…”
Did I talk to her about my sisters last night? Did she meet my sisters last night?