I tugged her closer to me, ducking off to the side of the street to avoid other foot traffic as we stood in front of a shop window. "You hate people?"
"Well, not all people, but most of them, yes," she laughed sheepishly. "People are inherently selfish at the core. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want in life, no matter who they hurt. I think that's really depressing." She laughed sheepishly, glancing down to the ground. Her cheeks turned pink when I cupped her jaw in my hand and leaned down to kiss her. She leaned into the touch, letting me fold her into my arms despite the public location.
Eyes came to us as I kissed her, but I paid them no mind when I pulled back and tucked my face into her hair to breathe in the scent of her, beneath the shampoo the hotel offered. Her products on El Infierno were an expensive version of the scents she seemed to prefer at home, an exotic mix of orange blossom and vanilla. The scent of them in the bottle when they’d arrived had made me desperate to smell them on her skin once more. But it would have to wait.
"I have been pleasantly surprised by you at every turn, mi princesa. I vastly prefer to spend my time alone," I said as I pulled back to stare at her. Wrapping a lock of long, chocolate hair around my hand, I slid it to the back of her head and gripped her there. "But that's not the case with you."
"I think that's somehow the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me." She chuckled lightly, the sound raising the hairs on my arms. I knew in that moment, I would do anything to hear the sound again and kill anyone who stood in the way of it.
I chuckled as well, turning her back toward the center of the street as we made our way up toward my favorite shop — the sole reason I would tolerate the trip into Dalt Vila anytime I was in Ibiza Town. "If you like history, then you need to see the museums on the mainland in Europe. All the monuments and the ruins are remarkable."
She sighed wistfully, her body sagging with the weight of a thousand worlds as it fell upon her. "I wish, but I don't know that I'll ever make it to Europe again. This was a freak thing where I had a paid opportunity to come to Ibiza. Coming back might be difficult."
I bit my lip to stifle the urge to tell her I would take her to see anything she wanted, if only she promised to be mine. Too much, too soon, and I would scare her off. Reminding myself that Isa hardly knew me came harder with every moment that passed.
"I am sure you'll find a way. We do what we must to achieve our dreams, do we not?" I asked, staring down at her as I said the words. She'd been everything I hadn't dared to dream for, a woman to match me, who called to me in a way I hadn't thought possible. "Come," I said, changing the subject as I dragged her into the little bakery.
"Señor Ibarra!" Samuel chimed from behind the counter. "¿Lo mismo de siempre?" he asked with a smile. Your usual? Reaching into his display case, he grabbed one of the massive pastries and slid it into the paper pocket to hand it to me.
"Gracias," I returned, handing him far more Euro than was necessary for the pastry. I would overpay him until the day I died if it meant I continued to have access to my favorite treat.
"What is it?" Isa asked as I pulled her into the little alcove between Samuel's shop and the jeweler next door.
"Ensaimada," I said, pulling it free and tearing off a piece of the spiral wound pastry. My fingers were instantly covered in powdered sugar as I handled it and held it up for her to take the first bite. "It's my favorite food on the planet. This ensaimada specifically, though my housekeeper makes a close second."
"Of course you have a housekeeper," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at me. Unlike most other people when they dared to be so defiant with me, her attitude only excited me. I touched the pastry to her lips, watching the powdered sugar stain them white briefly before she parted for me and let me rest the pastry on her tongue. In the moments before she closed her mouth and moaned, I was filled with the sudden desire to see my cum on her pretty pink tongue before she swallowed me down.
She chewed slowly, savoring the bite as I pulled a piece off for myself and ate it. The light, fluffy sweetness of the pastry exploded over my tongue like a cloud. "That's delicious," Isa said, swallowing finally.
"I'll feed it to you every day," I said, holding up another bite as she laughed and nipped my finger. We stood close to one another, finishing it in a comfortable silence. I loved that Isa spoke when she had something to say, but she didn't feel the need to fill every void in conversation with small talk.
Her level of comfort with the quiet, watching and listening to the people of Ibiza as they made their way up and down the streets, spoke to her as a person. She watched everyone. Listened to everything around her.
When the pastry was gone, I pulled the wipe out from the pocket where Samuel always stored it, using it to clean my fingers. Then I leaned in and licked the spare powdered sugar off Isa's lips, kissing her sweetly. "This is how you get
