Dirty Angels - Halle Karina - Страница 38
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And so I tried.
The first contact from his tongue made me shudder. The sensation was so entirely new to me, but what wasn’t at this point? Yet his mouth, lips, tongue, were all warm and wet and gentle, and I found my body immediately relaxing into the steady motion. I pushed aside all thoughts about how unpure this was. Purity had done nothing for me anyway. It was better to be dirty. It was better to take what you could. It was better to embrace your lustful, needful, animalistic side because that was the side that lived.
I let those languid thoughts roll through me until they were replaced with deep-seated desire. His tongue became more forceful, entering me with an in-and-out motion that matched up with the same rhythm as his thrusting fingers. He was completely fucking me in every way and I was letting him more and more, my body opening up, craving him.
“Oh, god,” he said, pulling away slightly. I could feel a trickle of saliva roll down my crack. “You feel like velvet. You taste like sweet cream.”
Then his tongue returned again, making my body shiver and rock from the sensations that were blurring my mind and shocking my senses.
At the sound of his fly unzipping and him moaning into my ass, I knew he had started to pleasure himself while pleasuring me. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to do it for him. I was surprised at my desire—after what I’d been put through, I’d never wanted a cock near me or my mouth. But now I wanted him. I wanted to see him naked, see his cock, see what he looked like, wrap my fingers, lips, tongue around him and give him the same kind of ecstasy he was giving me.
But there was no time for that because he was just as skilled as he was relentless. His mouth and fingers brought me to the edge of a frenzy, the pressure building inside me from so many different sources that it had to give. My arousal splintered, rocketing through my body in hard, violent waves. I cried out, yelling Javier’s name, my hands curling into fists behind my back, pulling against the cuffs.
He came too, loud, angry sounding grunts, but I was so far gone I barely heard him. I was swept away on that ship of emotions again, keeping pace with my body that was still spasming into his mouth and hand. I was so overwhelmed by everything rushing to the surface that I found myself sobbing quietly into the bed as the world ebbed and flowed around me.
There was a long pause, then his zipper went back up.
He placed his hand gently on the small of my back. “Luisa,” he said, his voice throaty but touched with concern, “are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No,” I mumbled into the soft bedspread. “I’m fine.”
The truth was, I didn’t know if I was fine or not. I didn’t know anything except I had experienced something so achingly familiar it brought my head back to a moment in my life. What I felt just then was the same thing I used to feel when I drove to work in Cabo San Lucas, when the sea air flew in through my open window and I felt I was more than my reality, as if I were an element like the sun and water. Something simple and whole and everlasting.
I just never imagined that something like sex—or whatever just happened—could make me feel that way. It made me feel like a fucking queen. A rush of anger went through me as I cursed Salvador for nearly ruining me, for tricking me into thinking pleasure was one-sided, that sex was such a horrid, disgusting, cruel act. I could have died with that in my heart, never knowing the truth.
Javier’s hands were at my wrists now and I heard him undo the cuffs, carefully taking them off. My arms burned in pain as I tried to bring them forward, and he gently eased me over onto my back, running his hands down my arms calmingly before removing the blindfold from my eyes.
I blinked rapidly at the intrusion of light, my eyelashes wet from the weak tears. I looked up at Javier’s face as he leaned over me, his cheeks flushed, his hair messy, his eyes glazed. He smiled shyly and put his hand on my cheek. “My darling. You’re going to be my undoing.”
Javier
She looked so soft and delicate beneath me that I had meant what I said. Her beauty, her very essence, the way she cried out my name as she came around me, they were starting to fray my ends. It was only in that very moment that it didn’t frighten me because my own completion was still rippling through my body. If only my cartel could figure out how to export this kind of high.
Granted, I’d much rather have made her come first then thrust myself inside her. My hand was getting a bit tiresome, and I knew how velvety soft and slick she’d feel around my dick. I wanted to shoot my semen high inside her and then watch it all run out between her legs and onto the sheets. She needed to be stained on the inside.
But that wasn’t an option. If I fucked her, if I even kissed her, I would lose control of everything I kept chained together. It had happened years and years ago—with Ellie—and I wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it happen again. I had paid too dearly a price.
Still, the wetness around her eyes, the pretty way her mouth parted as she stared at me, was making it hard, in more ways than one. Even earlier, when she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder, the smell of her hair intoxicating me, I didn’t have the courage to make her move. I enjoyed every second of the ride home.
And now, she was here. In my home. Everyone said it was a mistake to bring her here, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Their opinions had become so tiresome and predictable. The fact was, she would be safest here. This was my throne. This was where I held all the power and all the control.
It would be nice to have a queen, even if just for a week.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I stared down at her in confusion, tucking a few strands of sex-mussed hair behind her ear. “Why?”
“For doubting you.”
I smiled. “Most women do doubt … that. But if they’re brave enough to be open-minded and own their sexual curiosities, they are greatly rewarded.”
Her forehead furrowed slightly and I realized that alluding to other women probably wasn’t something she wanted to hear. Oh well, I wasn’t going to pretend I hadn’t fucked a million women.
I cleared my throat. “Do you want to take a bath or something? I have a large Jacuzzi. I have a lot of things here you may enjoy.”
She shook her head. “Am I sleeping here?”
I slowly sat up, distancing myself from her a bit. “No. You have your own room. Down the hall. I can assure you it is much nicer than the shithole you were in before.”
She smiled weakly and I helped her into a sitting position. She tugged on her dress, covering up her perfect breasts. “The other place wasn’t so bad…”
“Perhaps not to you,” I said. “You’ve only known luxury a short while.”
She tilted her head and looked me closer in the eye.
“What?” I asked, alluding to her intrusive gaze.
“Tell me about your sisters,” she said. “The ones who are alive.”
My face must have fallen because she looked ashamed and quickly said, “I’m sorry. That sounded callous. I meant, tell me about Alana and Marguerite.”
I bristled. It wasn’t exactly a favorite subject. I wondered why she was digging around. Was she trying to get information to use against me down the line, to hurt the rest of my family? My paranoia still fit me like a glove.
It was a glove that had kept me alive.
“I’m just curious,” she said softly, looking away. “Never mind.”
“It’s fine,” I said, smoothing on my mask. The last thing I wanted was for her to know what affected me. “What do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “Where do they live, what do they do, what are they like?”
“Well, they are both very pretty. Twins, you see. Which also makes them major pains in the ass. In the past, we weren’t so close, but after Violetta … we became closer. I try and talk to them every month or so. I offer to send them money but they rarely accept it.” I shrugged. “It’s a good thing, I guess. Alana is a flight attendant in Puerto Vallarta. Marguerite is in New York City.”
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