I swallow hard and manage to shake my head, that nickname eliciting a strange sort of emotion in my chest. Emilio leans into me, his breath fanning across my neck. My hands fly up on their own to clutch at the fabric of his shirt.I don’t know if I plan to draw him in or push him away, but the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms grounds me.
“Good. Because if you run,” he trails his nose down the side of my neck and nips at my shoulder with his teeth. “I’ll have to give chase.”
I shudder, my entire body responding to him, but I force myself to take a deep breath. This…isn’t what I expected.
“I remember the way you taste,” he whispers, tugging the neckline of my zip-up hoodie to the side and trailing kisses across my skin. “The way your pussy squeezed my cock when I buried myself inside you.”
His vulgar words make my thighs tighten, even as a shiver of apprehension races down my spine. He draws back, a savage curl to his lips. “Do you remember?”
My stomach tangles in knots. Of course I remember. I remember every single moment of that night in vivid detail. Every kiss. Every touch. But I don’t tell him any of that. I’m stuck standing here, words frozen in my mouth as he looks at me like he wants to devour me, but there’s a cruel edge to his smile. One I don’t know how to interpret. The boy I met eighteen months ago was wild. He had a devil-may-care attitude. And sure, I don’t really know him, but first impressions do mean something. Emilio acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was the kind of guy always looking to have a good time. Searching for his next thrill.
This Emilio is different.
He doesn’t give me the chance to dwell on that. Instead, his lips press against mine, and suddenly I’m drowning in the taste of him. Sweet oranges and chili, just how I remembered him tasting. Each caress of his tongue awakens something dormant inside me. I lose myself to the sensations when his arms band around me as he lifts me from my feet, my legs wrapping around his waist of their own accord.
He carries me over to a desk and sets me down on the smooth surface. One of my hands curls around the edge for support while the others holds onto Emilio, afraid to let go. My heart races behind my rib cage. There are a million reasons why I need to stop this, the most prevalent one being that I still haven’t told him about Luis. But I can’t think. Can’t get enough air to form the words I know need to be spoken.
His kiss is frantic. His grip possessive as he tilts my head, deepening our kiss and pressing his body closer into mine. Then I feel it. The hard length of him pressed firmly against my core. It reminds me that I haven’t been with anyone else. Not since that night. Not ever. He was my first. And so far, my only.
The next thing I know, his fingers are unbuttoning my jeans and working their way into my panties. I tear my mouth from his and suck in a lungful of air. “What are you doing?” I gasp as his mouth latches on to the side of his neck, nipping and sucking at my skin in a way I know is sure to leave a mark.
His fingertips graze over my center, and I shudder in his arms. He chuckles, the sound smug and self-assured. “So fucking responsive. What does it look like I’m doing, Bibiana?” The way he says my name makes my toes curls and short-circuits my brain. He manages to slide my jeans down my hips before I realize what’s even happening. He unzips the front of my sweatshirt, but when his fingers curl beneath the hem of my shirt, reality sneaks back in, reminding me that I am not the same girl he slept with eighteen months ago. I’ve changed. My body has definitely changed. And I’m not ready for anyone, let alone the boy who haunts my dreams, to see it.
I stop his hand from tugging up my shirt but have zero clue as to where to redirect it when he makes that decision for me and squeezes my breast over the material of my top. I wince. It doesn’t hurt but…gah…if I leak milk right now, I will be so mortified.
I need to put a stop to this entire thing. This, whatever it is, cannot happen right now but—oh my God. His finger rubs over my center, the thin material of my panties hardly a barrier as he presses a finger inside me.
I moan into his mouth. This is a stupid, horrible, insane thing to do right now, but I can’t seem to make myself tell him to stop. And I have to accept the fact it’s because I don’t want him to.
Seven
She lets out a sweet whimper when I cup her breast in my hand and squeeze it. They’re larger than I remember. More than a handful, but fuck me if they’re not perfect. Her eyes darken with need, if not a little apprehension. She’s nervous. That should bother me, but it doesn’t. Seeing her open desire feeds the beast inside me, so I give both of us what we want, slipping one finger inside her dripping cunt. Fuck me. My girl is ready, needy.
Wait. What? She is not my girl. Where did that thought even come from? Gritting my teeth, my cock strains against my zipper, desperate to thrust into her heat, but that’s not on the menu today. This isn’t about getting my dick wet. It’s about proving a point.
A moan leaves her as I sink a second finger into her pussy. Fuck, she’s so goddamn tight. I nip at her lips, small mewls of pleasure escaping as I work my fingers in and out, finger fucking her until she’s writhing on the desk. Gasping my name.
“You like that, baby girl?” I ask, taking pleasure in watching her squirm. She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. Her heavy breaths, the rapid rise and fall of her chest is answer enough.
She wets her lips and the sight of her tongue peeking out does things to my head. Makes me want to devour her. Body, mind, and soul.
I tower over her, our mouths centimeters away from one another. I suck in the air she breathes, my free hand tangling in her thick, black hair before I crush my lips against hers in a punishing kiss. Her legs clench, her back arching as her breasts press against my chest. She’s close.
I add in a third finger, stretching the walls of her pussy, making her take all that I can give. Next time, it’ll be my cock buried inside her tight little body instead of my fingers.
The thought has me clenching my jaw, nostrils flaring. There isn’t going to be a next time, I remind myself.
“Oh, God.” She stiffens against me, her jeans dangling from one leg while the other wraps around my hip.
“Come for me, Bibiana,” I grind out against her ear, savoring the way her name tastes on my tongue. My thumb finds her clit, circling the bundle of nerves and like glass, she shatters.
Her body goes taught. Her moan muffled by my lips as her orgasm tears through her.
I swallow her cries and suck on her bottom lip until her body relaxes, her shoulders slumping and her pleasure-drunk gaze finding mine.
I withdraw my fingers, adjusting the raging hard on in my jeans before bringing my hand to my lips and sucking her orgasm clean from my fingertips.
Her eyes widen in surprise. A blush heating her cheeks. I don’t bother hiding my savage smile before gripping her jaw and forcing her to taste herself on my tongue. When she’s breathless once more, I release her and turn to leave.
