“You have to answer, cariño.” His fingers came up to comb tendrils of hair away from her face.
“Sí,” she whispered.
“Perfecto.” He stroked the backs of two fingers down her throat and finished opening her shirt, revealing her breasts in her demicups.
She tried to open his shirt, but, like the first time, had none of his skill. His buttons were small and tight. Impossible. He brought his hand up and brushed hers away then swept his hand in a sharp yank that tore off buttons and ripped holes.
She gasped. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“I did,” he assured her, catching her hand and bringing it to his hot chest. “I’ve waited a long time for your touch.”
His word
s sent her heart into a spin. She greedily brushed aside the gaping edges of his shirt and claimed his taut skin. The texture of his chest hair played against her palms and his breath sucked in when she skimmed the heels of her hands across the tight points of his nipples.
He said something in Spanish that she didn’t have the wherewithal to translate, but his hand slid across her waist, making her realize he had finished releasing her buttons and now took his time exploring all the flesh he had bared. He made a circle against her quivering belly, stroked his thumb across the bumps of her ribcage, then traced the zigzag stitching on the bottom of her bra.
She should have bought something better. Her underclothes were boring beige, purchased from a big box store. He didn’t seem to mind. He drew circles on the soft cups. There was no padding. She felt his touch almost as if she was naked. Her nipples stood up against the thin fabric, waiting for more. Begging for it.
Time stood still. His smile of pleasure was almost cruel as he teased her. She didn’t realize she was furtively raking her thumbs across his nipples until his fierce gaze came up to hers and he said in a low growl, “Two can play that game, preciosa.”
With a casual flick of the front closure, her bra released and he brushed the cup aside. His nostrils flared as he took a moment to admire her blush-pink areoles and the turgid nipples atop them. Then he dipped his head, catching her nipple in his hot, damp mouth, devouring her.
She bit back a cry and arched, barely able to withstand the burn and rush of blood that made the tips unbearably tight and sensitive before he began to pull and tease and scrape with his teeth.
She bit her lip and thrust her fingers into his hair, but he didn’t let up. He continued his delicious torture until she writhed against him, hips lifting in ancient signals of willingness.
He rose to kiss her mouth, drowning her in pure sensuality before he moved to her other breast, keeping his hand on the first, circling his thumb on the wet, taut button in a way that sent currents of desire straight through her. She grew wet with yearning. She was both embarrassed and becoming desperate, alternately trying to squeeze her thighs together and open them with invitation.
His legs were pinning hers, though, keeping her beneath him in a sensual vice where she couldn’t escape the pleasure he was bestowing on her. She finally clasped the sides of his head and dragged his mouth up to hers again. She pushed her tongue between his lips, flagrant and uninhibited.
Take me, she begged with her kiss.
He groaned, shifted. Got his hand between them and released her jeans. He made another sound of deep satisfaction as he pushed his hand into her open fly, covering heat and damp cotton. His touch was wickedly skilled, rocking as he eased his touch deeper into the notch of her thighs, until she was lifting into the pressure of his palm, streaks of glorious pleasure arcing through her back. Only then did he slide a finger beneath the placket to brush her skin, leave her pulsing, then returning to soothe. Incite.
“I thought it was my imagination, the way you reacted like this,” he said against her throat, deepening his caress in a way that was exquisitely satisfying, yet a profound tease.
“Rico.” Growing mindless, she ran her hands over his chest and sides beneath his open shirt and across his back, arching to feel more of his naked skin with her bare breasts.
“Show me you weren’t faking. Show me I can make it happen for you.”
His trapped hand was making her wild. She moved with his touch, unable to resist the lure of the pleasure he offered. His mouth went back to her breasts and that was it. Seconds later she fell off the edge of the earth, but went soaring into the ether.
As cries of culmination escaped her parted lips, he lifted his head and covered her mouth, kissing her with rapacious hunger that she returned with greed.
She gave up trying to open his belt and tried to worm her hands under it.
He was speaking Spanish again, swearing maybe. His hand caught her chin and he licked into her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Then he made a pained noise as he lifted enough to jerk his own belt open and release his pants.
They moved in unison, pulling away to yank and divest and kick their pants off their legs. Naked, they rolled back into one another, near frantic.
This was how it had been that other time. There was no stopping this force. It was stronger than both of them.
And knowing he was as helpless to it as she was made it okay.
As he settled himself over her, however, she felt his tension. The care he took as he settled his hips low between her thighs and braced his weight on his elbows. She could feel his exertion of will over himself and by extension, her.
His whole body shook with the effort, but there was clarity behind the passion that glazed his eyes.