“Spread your legs.” My hand slides down the inside of her thigh, and she obliges. Once again, I pull her panties to the side and stroke her, meeting no resistance as she leans her head back against the headrest. Immediately I’m hard again.
This time, though, I’m in no hurry to bring her to orgasm. In fact, I probably won’t. In less than five minutes she’ll be on Javier’s arm, pretending to be his wife, and it’ll be far more satisfying for me to pretend to be herbrotherwhile knowing how much she’s wanting my touch.
And I’ll get to sit in the back of the church, knowing her panties are a mess and her clit is throbbing because of her desire forme.
I thrust my fingers slowly inside her, my pace slow and deliberate so it keeps her moaning, but not finding another release.
“Luce, please, don’t stop. Don’t go,” she lets out a long groan, hardly able to finish her sentence, “to the church.”
Up ahead, I can see Javier pacing on the sidewalk with his hands behind his back. As he lifts his wrist to check his watch, I glance at the clock on the dashboard. We’re five minutes late.
Oops.
“It’s too late, baby. We’re here.” I pull alongside the curb, into the open space right in front that Javier must have saved for us.
“You’re late,” he snarls, rushing to the passenger door. He reaches for the handle, getting a perfect view of my hand between Raina’s legs, and rage flashes behind his eyes.
Slowly, I withdraw it, not missing the way Raina hisses at the loss of my touch and awkwardly adjusts her dress. My fingers are completely drenched in her arousal, and I didn’t even get her off again.
“I’m sorry, we, uh, stopped to put the top down, and we must have left a little late from the hotel!” Raina stumbles over her words as she climbs out of the car, trying to pull her dress down and her boots up at the same time, while being careful not to trip on the curb.
Meanwhile, she’s completely oblivious to the fact that both Javier and I are staring at the way my fingers glisten with her arousal in the sunlight.
My throat bobs, and I’m tempted to bring my fingers to my mouth just to taste her.
Realizing Raina is out of the car, Javier straightens and grabs her wrist at the same moment the church bells sound. “We must go in. The services are starting.”
Without as much urgency, I turn off the car and get out, following them up the stairs and through the grand entry. The organ plays loudly as mass begins, and Javier rushes Raina down the aisle to where his family’s saved seats for them in the front.
Peeking at me from over her shoulder, Raina watches as I saunter through the threshold without a care in the world. I’m under no illusion I’ll be sitting with them, so there’s no rush. On either side of me, I notice sponges of holy water in brass dishes connected to the wall.
Flicking my gaze back to Raina, I smirk, then lift the same hand that was between her legs and use what’s left over of her arousal to start the sign of the cross on my forehead.
My own personal blessing.
Her eyes widen, jaw slackening as she watches me, then Javier pulls her attention and urges her to sit, so I take that as my cue to find my own seat in the back of the church.
I only hope to God that mass doesn’t take all day.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
An alluring melody overpowers the quaint church, radiating from the walls as attendees get comfortable in the pews, settling in for the hour-long mass and service for Javier’s father.
Keeping my hand in his, Javier rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “You are not wearing my ring,” he whispers beneath his breath.
“I—what?” I ask, prying my attention away from Luciano, where he smirks at me from the back of the church. If I turn my head, I have a clear view of him from where I sit, which I know he did on purpose.
“My ring,” Javier states plainly, and I look down for the confirmation I don’t need. Luciano’s ring sits on my finger, sparkling against the sunlight that radiates through the stained-glass windows.
My hand flies up to the chain around my neck. “Oh!” Pulling my hand from Javier’s, I unclasp the delicate metal and switch the rings, giving him a clipped smile once his is on my finger. “I’m sure no one noticed,” I whisper over the song being sung by the choir.
Peeking over my shoulder again, I find Luciano’s heated gaze still on me and have to press my thighs together. This is aboutto be the longest hour of my life as I sit here desperate for relief from this ache.
With a deep sigh, I turn back around and try to follow along with the service as best as possible, although I can’t understand a word of the Castilian Spanish being spoken. Still, the deep baritone of the priest is captivating and keeps me from turning around every two seconds to check if Luciano is still here.
But I know he is. I can feel his eyes on me, and with every second that passes, I crave him more.
Finally, I can’t stand it any longer and need to get some air, or go relieve this ache in the restroom, orsomething.
