When she presses down onto my dick, she bites her lip and winces, and the reason for her fearful look hits me. It makes no sense, or does it?
“Celeste, are you a virgin?” I ask.
A tear breaks free from the corner of her eye, but she shakes her head and lowers herself a little more. “It’s just . . . been a while. Ah.”
The flesh of her lower lip is white from the pressure of her teeth, and I’m frozen, not wanting to push up into her despite the agony of pleasure her slick channel inflicts on the head of my dick. She’s hot and wet and, oh, so tight. When she opens her eyes and meets mine, there isn’t a shred of uncertainty, but she must see my hesitant confusion at her pain.
She leans down, bracing a hand in the center of my chest, right over the image of an anatomical heart tattooed over my real one. “I want this,” she says, sinking down a little more. “Because I love you.”
Her hips slide the rest of the way down my length, and I rejoice with a guttural groan. She lets out a gasp, and her eyes go wide before she begins to move like she was made to ride my dick. I’m at a loss for words, but three words echo through my head: I love you, I love you, I love you.
17
Celeste
I only tried having sex with someone one other time since Maddox, but I didn’t go through with it because it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure why, because it was during my rebellious phase when I hadn’t yet learned how deadly Papá could be to men who get close to me. Now I think I understand what held me back. Not only was the man trying to use me to get to Papá, I didn’t love him the way I loved Maddox when I was fifteen. The way I love Leo now.
Even with his cocky attitude, despite his drugged haze, I want him. I want to make him feel good, help him forget, let him help me forget. And I do. Once I start fucking him, nothing exists in the world but the sweet pleasure of his thick fullness inside me. He plunges deep with every undulation of my hips, hitting a pleasure center that I barely remember I have. I felt this way once before, with one other person, but that has to be kept in the past now.
Still, I can’t help but wonder where Maddox went, when he’ll be back. I only dozed for a little while before Leo woke up. It finally hits me when the slap of flesh grows louder, echoing off the cinderblock walls, that there are no walls inside this apartment, except the ones that separate the bathroom from the rest of the place. If he’s here, he can hear us.
Yet that doesn’t bother me at all. On the contrary, it makes me hotter to imagine his penetrating gaze somewhere, watching Leo and me. Now that I know his secret, that he is in love with Leo too, I wonder which one of us turns him on more.
Leo has always been mouthwatering to look at with skin a deep, golden brown and his crazy, curly mane. He stays clean-shaven, but his stubble grows fast, and I bend down to kiss him, wanting the rasp of sensation against my lips. He kisses me back with abandon, groaning into my mouth and hooking a hand at the back of my head to hold me to him before dropping the hand to cup my breast again. His other hand rests on my thigh, clenching as if to keep his damaged shoulder immobilized.
His torso flexes as he buries himself inside me again and again, the morning light playing across his tattooed muscles. Nearly every inch is covered with inked designs, mostly black with some splashes of color here and there. The heart in the center of his chest is intricately detailed to the point of hyperrealism, a stark contrast to many of the simpler designs he sports. It suits him, that tattoo, because he loves so openly. Every time we’ve been around each other, he’s been free with his affection for his brother, for Toni, and for her little brothers. Even for Elena. He’s more reserved around my father, but so is everyone else. Despite that reservation extending to me, I think I’ve known for a long time that he loves me, and his fight a few weeks ago with Gustavo only proved it.
When I pull away with a breathless gasp from another rough thrust, I leave my palm against his cheek for a second, recalling how Maddox’s cheek felt so similar only hours ago when I threw myself at him in the shower. I know what that tortured look in his eyes meant now though. The pleasure swelling large inside me is cast even brighter by the surge of deeper love I feel for the man who pushed me into Leo’s arms.
“Celeste, fuck,” Leo groans and arches beneath me. The deepening push of his cock sends me over the edge, and I brace my hands on his chest, eyes fixed on his as pleasure rockets through me. His pulsing spasms match the rhythm of my clenching muscles, and I bite my lip to hold back a sob of pure, overwhelming emotion.
“Come here, ángel,” he rumbles, reaching for me when our movements finally ebb. With a sigh, I fall against him, and he wraps his good arm around my shoulders and nuzzles my hair.
Catching my breath, I stare blindly into the distance, only half registering the neatness of this dusty space. Paint peels off the walls, and the windows that separate the loft from the garage below are grimy with old
