Page 74 of Sweet Heart

I would love to say something witty or even tease her a little, but my mind is too busy trying to process how close her hand is to where I want it to be to cooperate. Instead, I inhale a wobbly breath of air and press myself deeper into the cushion.

“Katherina,” I murmur, and her head instantly flicks to the side.

“¿Cómo?” she demands as she jerks hard on the wheel and hits the brakes.

The car comes to a rough stop at the side of the road, and my seat belt snaps tight to hold me in place. I whimper at the sudden motion, and have to take a moment to process what happened. The hell?

I feel Cat’s gaze on me. It’s almost as if she is burning a hole through my skull, and I am afraid to meet her gaze. I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. Somewhere during the last few weeks, she became Katherina in my mind. Maybe because of the way she calls me Maria, or maybe because I see it every time I text her. Or maybe it is as simple as it being her birth name, which I can appreciate. As long as she doesn’t start calling me Marilouise.

I feel something dark coil around my sternum, and my eyes fly wide open. I lift my chin and very slowly turn toward her, scared that what I’ll see will confirm my current thoughts. But when my gaze finally lands on her, I don’t see loathing. No. Her eyes are wide, glistening, and soft. She liked it.

“W—was that…” I trail off, but she just stares at me. “Okay?”

It’s not really a question, but not a statement, either. It is something we are discovering together.

“That was…” She pauses, and I know she is searching for the right words. “It was more than okay. It felt…” She looks at me now. “It felt right, coming from your lips.”

“Ye—yeah?” I stammer, and she bobs her head so hard that I’m almost afraid she might hurt herself.

“Yes, very much, yes.”

Her hand comes up to cradle my jaw, and she leans over to press her lips against mine. She trembles slightly, but I can feel her smile against my mouth. I instantly return it and let out a relieved chuckle.

“It’s the dress,” I tease her, and she groans softly.

“It’s very much the dress.”

Her hand hovers above my thigh, but she retracts it, a flash of regret crossing her face. I bite my lip and grab her wrist before she can start the car again. With my other hand, I lift the hem, and Cat’s breathing instantly stutters. When I guide her fingers to the warm skin on the inside of my knee, it stops altogether.

I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She is looking forward, her jaw tight, and her lips pressed together. She doesn’t move for what feels like the longest time, and I feel my stomach flutter with nerves. The good kind, the wrong kind. I am not even sure. Then she inhales a slow, controlled breath before trailing her hand a little higher.

I gasp softly when she slides it between my thighs, and I shift a little to give her more access. Her face doesn’t change. Her gaze is still aimed at the road, but her middle finger gently caresses along the edges of my underwear. My lip, on the other hand, starts to quiver, and my back arches slightly forward. It is as if I’m fighting the featherlight taunting while my body screams for more. That earns a small smirk.

“I see.” The words come out soft but razor-sharp. “Mírame,” she commands, and I turn my head to look at her as instructed.

Her finger slips past the fabric, and the contact of her skin against my core sends electricity coursing through my body. I know we shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, at the side of the road. But right now, I couldn’t care less. And apparently, neither can Cat, who’s slowly dragging the pad of her finger upward. Her eyes bore into mine as she pauses, and I am barely able to nod.

“Say it.” Her voice is clipped, but her eyes betray her. There is a storm going on within her.

“Please…” I beg.

Her breathing instantly becomes shallower, and she traces her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Say it again.”

It isn’t a question. Her eyes are too focused for that.

“Please, Katherina…” I squeak, my voice high and strained.

Cat’s skin ripples as the hairs on her arms stand up. The exhale that follows is loud and nearly uncontrollable.

“Sí, keep your eyes on me,” she growls.

Her finger dips, and I mewl as she slides inside me. I immediately want to close my eyes, but Cat pins me with her gaze. My throat bobs, and my mouth falls open as I press myself harder against her, looking for more contact, more friction, more of her. Always more of her.