Page 93 of Speak No Claim

I stopped on the spot right under her ear that made her go crazy, moving her hair to the other side of her neck, never letting up on my caresses on her skin.

I could feel the effect I was having on her.

“Mmm…” she moaned, making my cock twitch.

I loved her body's response to me. Most women performed, trying to outdo one another. She was different. I wanted to feel her from the inside, enjoying driving her insane with need, getting her nice and wet for me.

It was the sociopath in me.

“What, baby?” I huskily groaned, kissing from her neck to her collarbone, working my way down to her breasts.

She was wearing a tank and sweats, her hair a mess. I went right for her hard nipple, poking through her slim cotton top. One of the other things I liked about her was that she never wore a bra. She didn’t need to. Her tits were perfect and perky.

Lightly, I flicked her nipple with my tongue through her tank. She was coming undone beneath me, soft moans escaping her pouty lips. I grabbed her wrists with one hand and placed them above her head. My other hand worked its way down her torso to her hip, pushing her further to the edge.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Her mouth parted, licking her lips as I slowly pulled down her tank top. The feel of her was all around me, making me burn with desire to claim every last inch of her body.

I wanted to capture this moment, holding on to it for as long as I could. I did that a lot with her, capturing moments I’d look back on when she was gone.

She couldn’t last in my world. She didn’t belong in it. I’d make sure of it. Until then, I wanted to remember her just like this.

For me.

* * *

Mine.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Hennessy: Learn to appreciate the things you have before time forces you to appreciate the things you once had.

The following morning, I got up early to cook a few traditional Peruvian dishes and went to the grocery store when it opened. I spent all morning cooking up a storm, from papa a la huancaína. It was easy to make with a bunch of boiled potatoes covered in a creamy, slightly spicy ají amarillo and cheese sauce. It was a huge delicacy in my country.

I also made ají de gallina, a creamy, shredded-chicken dish with yellow ají amarillo, bread, milk, and spices. Of course, I had to cook juane, an Amazonian dish made with seasoned rice, chicken, olives, eggs, and spices, wrapped in bijao leaves. It was delicious.

Topping off the menu, I made ensalada rusa, a salad that had beets, potatoes, carrots, green peas, hard-boiled eggs, mayonnaise, and salt and pepper. Some people added diced pickles, corn, and onion. Last but not least, I prepared tacu tacu, a crispy pan-fried mixture of rice and beans.

By the time I finished, I was a bit tired, but excited to bring some of my culture to Thanksgiving. I assumed it would be standard American food, which I sometimes enjoyed. I just wasn’t used to it. Peruvian food had so much flavor. It was hard going from that to simpler food.

Cooking all this food made me think of my family. Since I moved there, I hadn’t spoken to them much. Summer in Peru was our high season for tourism. We spoke a few times over the phone through WhatsApp, but didn’t get into too much detail. They were always so busy with one thing or another.

I hadn’t confronted my family with any questions about what was going on, but after talking to Elizabeth yesterday, they knew more than they were letting on.

Why haven’t I ever heard of Elizabeth if they know her?

While the kitchen smelled amazing, I hurried upstairs to shower and try to find something to wear. After I finished blow-drying my hair straight, I walked back into my bedroom, only to find a new dress on my bed with heels, a pair of earrings, and a necklace. The earrings were delicate hoops, but it was the necklace with an Inca sun that made me realize Elizabeth's stylist put a lot of thought into this.

The stunning gown was a soft cream silk with a floral design. It had a V-neckline with a fitted bodice that hugged my torso just right. Below my waistline, a flowy skirt extended past my feet. The heels would be covered unless I took a step, only making it appear as if there were a trail behind me. Reminding me of something a goddess would wear.

The nude heels with red bottoms were delicate, with a four-inch pump. Onyx would still tower over me. It quickly became my first thought. I wondered what he’d think of this dress on me and if he’d like it.

All in all, her stylist picked out exactly what I’d buy myself if I were going to spend thousands of dollars on a designer outfit.

Though this wasn’t my usual attire, I couldn’t help but love the way I looked in front of the full-length mirror. To match the aesthetic of what I wore, I did my makeup a little heavy, with a smoky eye and a nude lip.