“No.” It came out more like a hiccup than a word.
My hand on her waist curved up; sliding across the silky material until my fingers could tease along the top of her dress. “No, you don’t want this… or…” I moved my hand lower, cupping her breast and squeezing. “No, you haven’t changed your mind?”
“The—”
I flicked my wrist, wrapping her hair tighter around my right hand. Her lids fluttered closed on a gasp. Pointing my tongue, I slicked it up along her neck before tracing the shell of her ear. “I need an answer.”
“I want this.”
The words had barely fell from her lips when my fingers found the zipper at the side of her dress. Click for torturous click, I dragged it down until the silky material split open and slid down her body.
She stood before me, still facing the window, in nothing but a lace thong and heels. And holy shit, it was a beautiful sight. So beautiful, I had to take a few steps back so I could admire her.
“Look at you,” I growled as I adjusted myself. “You’re a damn goddess.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder; her red-stained lip tugged between her teeth, eyes shining bright.
And I couldn’t wait to ruin her.
I closed the distance between us in three easy strides. Starting at the base of her neck, I brushed my fingertips down the bumps of her spine and curled my finger around the elastic of her thong. I pulled the material about two inches away and then let go, grinning like a damn fool when the satisfying snap against her skin earned me another one of those sinful sounds.
Before she had time to think, I was on my knees behind her touching my mouth to the spot. I dragged my hands along her thighs, gripped her underwear, and tugged them down her legs. Bunching the material inside my palm, I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing the scrap of lace into my pocket.
Gripping her hips, fingers digging into her skin, I spun her around. Becca shivered when I touched my fingers to the sensitive spot behind her knee. Meeting her hooded gaze, I trailed my hand up her thigh, gently guiding her leg over my shoulder.
She watched me, the air seemingly trapped in her lungs, as I slowly licked my lips and then lowered my head at an even steadier pace to taste her. That first hit against my tongue shot through my veins like the purest hit of heroine.
“Delicious.” Heady. Addictive. So damn addictive.
The tips of my fingers burrowed deeper into her skin, my tongue eagerly lapping up everything she had to give. But it wasn’t enough. I need to feel her. Be inside her. Consume her.
Tilting my head, I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh before pushing to my feet.
I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and pulled her to the plush leather couch. After sitting down, I guided her onto my lap. “The heels stay on.” My voice thick and gruff. Her skin was warm and soft when I placed my hands on her hips and leaned back against the cushioning.
“Take what you need.”
She just looked at me like she had no clue. I traced the sharp line of her hipbone with my finger, one side of my mouth lifting into a slow smirk. “If pleasure is what you want, princesa, you’re going to have to take it.”
Lifting my hips, I pressed my still-covered hard-on against her, but I made no move to create the friction we were both desperate for. Three, maybe four seconds ticked by before she finally rocked her hips.
And, shit, I almost lost it at when her needy whimper filled the space between us. Back and forth she moved, slowly steadily, driving me over the brink of insanity. I’d intended to sit back, watch her fall apart on top of me but as she threw her head back, parted her lips and cupped her breasts, I knew I wanted to be responsible for her pleasure.
Every moan leaving her lips, mine.
When her body fell apart, it would be because of my touch.
Reaching between us, I fumbled with my belt and pants until I could shove the material just below my ass. Helping her move so we were perfectly aligned, I palmed the back of her head and pulled her mouth to mine at the exact moment I pushed inside her.
Big, angry curses lay on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bear to break my mouth away from hers to utter them. Because this should’ve felt like every other time I needed to get off. Whatever feelings were involved should’ve remained physical and below the belt.
But as it stood, the more we moved—chasing our releases like rabid animals—the more warmth seeped into my skin and steadily crept toward my chest, aiming straight for the long-time dead organ behind my breastbone.
Needing a breath, or maybe a moment of clarity, I tore my mouth from hers. Ducking my head, I focused on drawing more sinful sounds from her throat by sucking on her chest like it was my last meal.
Becca shoved her fingers into my hair, the tips digging into my scalp, her hips finding a faster, clumsier rhythm. My teeth found flesh and when I bit into the softness, her entire world exploded, my name bouncing off the walls.
I had no time to revel in it though because before she had time to catch her breath, she gripped my face and pressed her mouth to mine. She kissed me with such raw passion it pulled me over the edge with her.
That was also the time I realized what a big mistake I’d made because this woman sitting in my lap, riding the final waves of ecstasy, was making me question everything I knew I had to do.
Chapter Five
Santiago
“You fucked up.”
Ignoring Jorge’s accusation, I slowly lifted the espresso to my lips and kept my gaze on the Olympic pool
