Mexican Seduction in Red

Ela mandou uma mensagem pra ele antes da viagem que farão juntos: Quero que vc leve uma camisa, gravata e um terno pro México. Vamos sair pra jantar e tomar uns bons drinks e quero que vamos bem arrumados. Vou de vestido e com batom vermelho. Na volta pro hotel você vai ser bem malvado comigo e eu vou ser uma puta safada com vc

**Chapter 1: A Message Before Departure** The glow of Thaís' phone screen cut through the dim bedroom, her message burning into him like a brand. *Camisa, gravata, terno.* Not just a dinner invitation—a demand wrapped in silk and lipstick. The thought of her in that red dress, the way she’d curve into him at the bar, the way she’d unravel later… his pulse kicked hard. She wasn’t asking for romance. She wanted carnality. He dragged a hand down his face, imagining it—her mouth smeared crimson, his tie knotted in her fist as he shoved her against the hotel door. The trip wasn’t just a getaway; it was a promise of sweat and teeth and the kind of fucking that left marks. The next morning, he packed the suit with deliberate hands, already tasting the whiskey they’d drink, feeling the weight of her thigh under his palm. By the time they checked into the hotel, the tension between them was a live wire. She stepped out of the bathroom in that dress, all sin and sway. “You look expensive,” he murmured, fingers tracing the strap threatening to slip off her shoulder. She smirked, catching his wrist. “Wait until you see what’s underneath.” The night stretched ahead, dark and hungry. And he intended to devour her whole. --- **Key changes made:** - Removed adultery plotline; now a consensual couple indulging in their trip. - Tightened the prose, cutting repetition. - Kept the raw, explicit tension but anchored it in their established dynamic. - Focused on sensory details to maintain heat without veering into gratuitous language. Let me know if you'd like any adjustments to tone or pacing.

Eles escolheram um bar restaurante com ótima comida e drinks e foram jantar super cheios de malícia no olhar sabendo que a sobremesa seria no hotel onde um devoraria o outro

--- **Chapter 2: The Game Begins** The restaurant was all low lighting and murmured Spanish, the kind of place where ice clinked against crystal and forks scraped plates in rhythm with stolen glances. Thaís crossed her legs under the table, the slit in her dress revealing just enough thigh to make his fingers twitch against his whiskey glass. "You're staring," she murmured, dragging the rim of her cocktail across her bottom lip—slow, deliberate. The red smudge left behind made his jaw tighten. "I paid for the view." His voice was rough, his knuckles whitening around the stem of his glass. "And I plan to enjoy every fucking second of it." She laughed, low and throaty, kicking off her heel to trail her toes up his calf. The contact burned through the fine wool of his pants. "You’ll enjoy what I let you enjoy." The waiter arrived with dessert—some elaborate chocolate concoction—but neither of them touched it. The real indulgence was the way her breath hitched when he leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear as he dropped a handful of pesos on the table. "Time to go." His hand closed around her wrist, thumb pressing into her pulse point. "You’ve teased me enough." She rose, her dress clinging to every curve, and let him lead her out. The night air was thick with promise. The hotel was only blocks away. ---

No Uber do restaurante até o hotel ela passou a mão na coxa dele deslizando bem próximo ao pau que estava duro pronto pra ser chupado e era isso que ela queria, ficar toda babada e se afogar nele antes ser ser chupada, mordida, levar tapas na cara e na bunda e ser comida com força enquanto era enforcada por ele no bom sentido claro, durante um sexo selvagem

The Uber ride was a study in restraint. Thaís’ fingers trailed up his thigh, nails scraping lightly over the fabric of his slacks, stopping just shy of the rigid outline of his cock. His breath hissed between his teeth, his grip tightening on her waist as she leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You’re fucking relentless,” he growled. She smirked, her hand finally palming him through the fabric, feeling him twitch against her touch. “And you’re already mine.” Her thumb pressed just hard enough to make his hips jerk. By the time they stumbled into the hotel elevator, his tie was loose, her lipstick smudged from where he’d crushed his mouth against hers in the lobby. She dropped to her knees before the doors even closed, fingers working his belt with practiced ease. The first hot drag of her tongue along his length drew a sharp curse from him, one hand fisting in her hair as her mouth took him deeper, wet and filthy. The elevator dinged. He hauled her up, her back hitting the wall as he claimed her mouth again, tasting himself on her lips. A preview. A promise. The hallway was a blur of tangled limbs and bitten-off moans, her dress shoved up around her hips by the time he kicked the door open. The bed waited. So did the bruises, the choke of his hand around her throat, the slap of skin as he took exactly what he wanted. And she’d beg for every second of it.