“You’re the jealous type too,ragazza.And don’t deny it.”
“I may be, but I don’t want to kill every woman you’ve been with. That would be a life’s mission, and I don’t plan on making everything in my life about you.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. Once I’m done with you, all you’re going to do is think about me.” She gets up and crosses her arms.
“So, you are going to get rid of me once you’re done.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not very convincing.” I gape at her. “What’s going to convince you otherwise?” She thinks for a good minute before she looks at me and says the one thing I was not expecting.
“Kneel.” She points at the ground in front of her. I stand up and do just that. I get on my knees. She looks down at me with all the confidence only a woman can possess.
“You’re going to make me come with your tongue.” I start kissing up her thighs, making my way to her entrance. Opening her seam, I take two of my fingers and start massaging her pussy gently in a scissor motion. She leans back against the TV stand with both her hands supporting her weight. Her mouth agape at the sensation. She’s spread out for me to feast on. I latch my mouth on to her clit and suck gently. Doing that for what seems like hours, I take my tongue and do a very large lick, from her entrance to her clit. I can taste the mix of our juices, and I’ve never tasted anything like it.
My tongue penetrates her opening as my thumb finds her clit. I suck gently on her clit and shove two fingers inside of her, curling them at the exact angle that makes her scream. I lick her from front to back before shoving my tongue deep inside of her, relishing in her reaction. Pinching her clit, she screams out into the open air. I love it when she doesn’t take away the pleasure of hearing her ecstasy.
“How’d you get so good at that?” Her breath is unsteady as she speaks. “I could say the same to you.” She shuts up in that moment, realizing what I’m saying to her. I don’t want her talking about other men when I’m around, I think she would want the same thing in return. I’ve always loved giving women head, but not as much as making them come on my dick.
Before Ale, sex was simply an unfulfilling transaction that I always made for my own pleasure. I wasn’t a dickhead; I let the woman have her high. I’m perceptive and try to understand a woman’s movements even in my haze. But there is something about Ale that makes that haze lift, and all I see is her.
She’s a drug, one I can’t stop taking. Her mouth opens and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She’s done for. As I make her come with my mouth, her breath starts slowing down and I watch her look at the ceiling with a smile. I like it when she approves of me making her come undone. Her smile makes my ego crash through the roof because I’m the one responsible for it.
“It’s unfair to humankind how good you are at that.” I smirk.
“Well, at least it’s not unfair for you because I don’t plan on giving anyone else what you get from me.”
“I like the sound of that.” I stand up, getting off my knees.
“Oh, baby, I do too.” I crash our lips together, locking. They move as one. Her hands roam around my whole body.
“Am I forgiven?” I pull us apart and she looks at me with her plump red bruised lips, ripe for the taking.
“You may be forgiven, but this will not be forgotten. One thing you should know about me is I hold grudges. If this ever happens again, I will cut your dick off when you least expect it.” She smiles giving me a look opposite of her words.
“I’ll take that.”
I mean what I say, I’ll grab onto anything she gives me. The scary part is that there isn’t anything that this woman could do to make me leave.
Nothing.
ChapterThirty
Maria Alejandra
Paris was great, amazing in fact.
We spent a few extra days together shut in our hotel room.
Yes, our hotel room. Weird. Extremely concerning.
It felt like literal sunshine and rainbows, as we fucked each other every night and ended it by talking about ourselves. The one thing that I have yet to mention is the fact that my family is literally the epitome of organized crime. You might be asking why I’m so scared about this. I should just spit it out, right?
No. I should not. Even though these days have been some of the best of my life, my brain keeps telling me that it’ll never work out, which I fear is spot on.
I don’t know how to break the news. It’s not like we’re officially together; at least we haven’t said those words. But I feel the inevitability of it. The future isn’t something we talk about. Mostly, we like to talk about the past and the present, but never the future. So how am I supposed to tell someone that I continually have sex with, maybe even my boyfriend, that I grew up in a world that he despises?
I know him well enough now to know he will not take this well. At all. Not well is probably an understatement. Because in my head, it’s way worse than that. It’s fury mixed with hatred. Those are the two things that I don’t want a man that I might have feelings for to feel towards me.