Nothing more.
Antonio understands exactly what enticed me here, as evidenced by his chuckle. His hands fall over the small of my back, and his mouth captures mine.
“Don’t go.” His plea is between a beg, a laugh, and lust.
Our lips are never more than a breath apart. He lifts me up. Desire drips into his tone as he alternates from English to Spanish, “Stay awhile, preciosa.”
I relish in the pressure of his hardness as I’m speared through our clothing. He sits with me, straddling him. “Promise you’ll stay.”
As long as we’re just fucking. I’m a grown-ass woman. Still, that line sounds as abrasive as Antonio’s tequila and not half as smooth. As he whispers sweet nothings in my ear, I pant, “Yes, yes, gawd, yessss.”
Hands massage my hips and ass. “So, preciosa, I take it you’ll stay?”
I grip at muscles in his back; butterflies take flight in my abdomen as I murmur, “Only if you screw me, Manny.”
Saying that name is playing with fire. But per his request, I’d called him Manny a thousand times as I drowned in endless waves of orgasms in my bathtub. This time, using his nickname is me extending the olive branch and not treating Antonio Emmanuel Silva like a side of dick. Even if said side of dick is on the menu of a five-star restaurant.
He kisses a trail down my throat, only to return his affections... home.
My lips.
I reach between my thighs to unleash Antonio’s dick, but a dare flashes in his eyes, smoldering the light. “I’ve a gift for you, preciosa.”
I’m caught off guard. Torn between how my lips seek him, my flesh burns for him, and this gift.
What’s the gift?
How audacious of him to buy me a gift?
As Antonio arises, I’m removed from his lap and placed into the seat. I watch his rugged ass and powerful thighs encased in jeans as he saunters out of the room.
My gaze flits to a canvas and a modern shelf of art supplies at the far side of the room. He’s spent $50 grand easy on art. And that’s just what I’ve seen.
His home is a friggen art gallery. I glance away.
Antonio returns with a shiny red box, complete with a matching shimmery bow. He’s removed the leather jacket and peeled up the sleeves of his thermal to reveal inked corded arms. The tattoos taunt viciously as he one-handedly yanks the belt from his pants.
The smile on my face chisels off like cement in an earthquake as the belt launches into the air only to snap.
The oxygen in my chest has the same effect.
A harsh snap, followed by it fizzling to depletion.
My mind races, but I put on a front. “What are you doing?”
“The gift or the belt, preciosa.”
Antonio moves a few paces forward. God carved muscles, and man created inked anarchy to accompany his smooth, stony mask.
He clutches the gift box in his fist, and the other grips the belt.
“Hah, now why would I pick the belt, Antonio?”
“Because you’ve tortured me and used me for sex. Then you agreed to pay for hurting my feelings.”
“Ha! Wh-what?” My eyes narrow, and then I gasp. “In Spanish. That’s what you were saying?”
“Sí. And you said sí, sí, sí.”
I rise, chin tipped. “If you keep testing me, I’m taking my gift, and I’m out. Might even send you a thank you card later. Yes, I sound like a broken record, but I’ve been stuck in my ways for decades.”
“No. You promised to stay. I’m a man of my word; I expect the same courtesy. preciosa, what we have here,” he trails off.
I’ll be damned if his ruthless tone doesn’t spasm my agonized walls between my thighs like crazy. “Wait—”
He clasps my waist, jerking me to him. “We have two amazing opportunities you’ve surely never partaken in. My belt on your supple ass. Or…” he simply gestures to the box.
A tense stand-off initiates between us. I hold my hand out for the gift. As my fingertips glide over the expensive wrapping paper, I complain, “How did you know I’d come? Is this the standard gift for every—”
“I knew I’d see you again. There’s an undeniable spark between us. I haven’t dated in years, by the way.”
I rip into the paper, letting it land where it falls, only to gape at the packaged vibrator. I exhale, relieved. “I picked well.”
“Ahh, I only planned to spank you a few times. With this, however,” Antonio says, “you will cum until you’re delirious and...”
“And?” My stomach muscles scream as I attempt to press away.
“And agree to paint.”
“Never!”
I’m spun around, elbows tugged together behind me by one of his hands. Antonio sits down with me on top, my face away from his. As I try to turn around and give him a piece of my mind, he reaches his other hand forward to clutch my throat.