Promesa Mojada

"You sure you want this?" Her voice trembled, but her eyes were on fire. Raindrops streaked down the window, blurring the shapes of passersby outside.

I just nodded, feeling her knee brush mine under the table. She smiled—cocky, almost challenging. That dress. That fucking dress. Red, with a deep neckline, hugging her curves so tight my mouth went dry.

"Tonight, you do exactly what I say," she whispered, leaning closer. "And nothing more. Deal?"

"What if I want more?" My voice cracked.

She laughed softly, tracing a finger along the rim of her coffee cup.

"You won't. Because I know what you really want."

I slid my hand up her knee, feeling the warmth of her smooth skin. She didn't pull away. Instead, she spread her legs a little wider, letting my palm glide higher, under the hem.

"So impatient," she breathed, but her voice gave away how turned on she was. "We haven't even left yet."

"I can't wait," I admitted, feeling my cock press against my zipper. "That dress... you wore it on purpose?"

"Of course," she said, covering my hand with hers, guiding it to the edge of her panties. "I knew you'd lose it."

The waitress brought the check, and I nearly dropped the bills because Lena's fingers were already unzipping my fly. She moved fast, confident, like she'd done it a hundred times. Her warm hand slid inside, gripping me.

"Quiet," she whispered, as I sucked in a sharp breath. "Someone might see."

But her eyes said the opposite. She loved the risk.

She bent down, pretending to fix her shoe, and I felt her hot breath on my cock. Then—the wet touch of her lips. Just for a second, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

"Bathroom," I gasped, squeezing her shoulder.

She shook her head, grinning.

"No. Here. Now."

She climbed onto my lap, not breaking eye contact. The dress rode up, exposing her thighs. Her panties—thin, lacy. She pushed them aside, and I felt how wet she was.

"Slow," she ordered, lowering herself onto me. "Very slow."

I slid into her, feeling her clench around me. She bit her lip, holding back a moan. The café was almost empty, but someone could walk in any second.

"Fuck," she breathed, starting to move. "You're so hard..."

I gripped her hips, helping her. Every movement was agonizingly slow, but that made it even sweeter. She leaned in, kissing my neck, my lips, whispering:

"Don't you dare come without my permission."

I felt her inner muscles pulse around me. She was already close.

"Lena..." I groaned, digging my fingers into her ass.

"More," she gasped, speeding up. "Just a little more..."

She came first, digging her nails into my shoulders and burying her face in my neck to muffle her cry. Her body shook, and I couldn't hold back. I came inside her, feeling her squeeze even tighter, stretching out my pleasure.

We sat there for a few seconds, breathing hard. The rain kept pouring outside. She lifted her head and smirked.

"And you said this meant nothing."

"It really doesn't mean anything," I replied, but there was no confidence in my voice.

She stood up, straightened her dress, smoothed the hem. Grabbed her purse.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked, already at the door.

"Definitely," I answered, feeling my heart pound like crazy.