I freeze, legs closed, so we both aren’t granted the desire to see how my thighs would glide over his muscular waist.
“Open your legs,” Antonio commands.
“You can’t say that.”
“I already did.” His hands stroke my calves, pushing my dress up. In an attractive accent, Antonio implores, “Open up for me.”
Somewhere in the world, a tsunami warning resounds.
The earthquake in my core sends waves of wetness gushing from my pussy.
And Antonio Emmanuel Silva inhales.
“C’mon, Essence. Reveal yourself to me and remove your clothes, or we go to your room.”
I stand. The beast hasn’t left the room, so my body’s flush with his. Minty air floats over my mouth, which I assume is from peppermint tea.
While my eyes have kissed Antonio’s lips a thousand times, something else entirely pierces my lower abdomen.
Something bold.
Menacing.
Big enough to rip through the ocean of my pussy.
Antonio’s mouth falls over mine. As I open my mouth to challenge him, a tongue slides inside, twirling with the ferocity of unquenched attraction.
He pulls my dress’ stretchy material up and presses my nude-colored thong to the side. Possessive fingers plunge into the depth of my sex.
The desperate act weakens all my muscles. Antonio’s other arm slides around me as it had the other night, cuddling me to him.
Then like a dance, we move in tandem. Antonio presses my upper body onto the partition, his lips retreating to the place his fingers worshipped.
“You... are... tight...”
Who you telling?
His seductive Spanish whispers across my aching walls. Every time Antonio breathes in, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and a swift orgasm follows. Next, his tongue thrusts deep into my channel to satiate the agony there.
More of his sweet nothings cause me to leak. Antonio frames my pussy, digging in like his last meal before execution.
“Right there. Don’t move, baby,” I groan, fingers twining into his hair as if I own him.
But I’m a fool, and I know it.
I don’t own him.
Never could.
His tongue owns the trillion nerve endings jolting in my pussy. His lovely tongue... owns... me.
The movement of his tongue owns me.
I roll my hips in succulent swirls, matching the bravado of his tongue thrusts.
“I’m cumming. Again. Again. Again!” Tiny orgasms take off like my beloved, nostalgic pop rocks.
I whimper when his mouth pulls out around my fourth release.
This one would’ve broken me forever. My whole tune has changed—and if I were in my right mind, I’d sneer at the weakling I’ve become. “Why’d you stop?”
“I’m not done with you, Essence.” Antonio peels out of his leather jacket, his attention fixated on me. Though I’ve always felt attractive, I perceive myself in a new light because of the obsessive gleam in Antonio’s eye.
The stretchy dress clings to my hips and molds to my pebbled nubs.
“If we had proper lighting.” His hand drags into the liquid sex puddled on the box I’m still settled on. “I would call the painting of this precise moment...”
Mmmm. What would you call it? I hang onto his every word.
Pensive, dark eyes spear through me. “The Wettest Woman Ever. Does that title have a nice ring to it?”
With my pussy convulsing at the mental image of our painting, I murmur, “I love that title.”
“Ahhh, the after orgasmic glow helped a little. Unless you’d like us to take this upstairs.”
Yessss. Upstairs!
I nod before my brain fully registers his words. “Yes!”
A split second later, the hard vibration of my cellphone over the wood stage stills my attention. With one glance, shame and disappointment have cooled me down.
Oh, poor Alexis.
I haven’t been the other woman in ages.
Last time, I was unaware of my role, and the man in question stole my work. This time... I’m guilty. Yet, how can I blame Antonio for lowering my own standards?
Chapter 5
Antonio
Jajaja, I’m cursed by my own daughter.
I warned Alexis not to invite the cholo of a boyfriend to her event. My daughter’s aware of my deep attraction for Essence. Also, years have slipped by since an intense connection with another woman has swept me away. Still, this is Alexis’ payback. I snubbed her cholo boyfriend a few times, and now mi hija has exacted revenge.
Shouldn’t have kicked the cholo out of my house during our first introduction.
Shouldn’t have called the cholo a gangster to his face.
All these infractions occurred before Alexis’ showcase. The other night, I ignored him, like any other father would; I chose my battles. Alexis is young. This is a phase.
I will say, since being with the pendejo, Alexis is also breaking the barrier of shyness. Because of my daughter branching out and finally displaying her art, I ventured to A Touch of Essence gallery.
While I’d rather be inside the woman immediately, doubt draws her mouth into a thick line. “What happened, preciosa?”
“This isn't working.”
Though I’ve reservations that Essence is referring to the pose, I won’t believe the gorgeous pearl of a woman has returned to her oyster.