Page 152 of Raspados & Regret

His gaze snaps to mine.

“Elías.”

My voice drops. “Yeah?”

He starts to pull away, and I catch his wrist.

“Don’t.”

His breathing changes. “You sure?”

I nod.

“I’m gonna need some words, nene.”

Look at him, learning things.

Killing me with it.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Not too hard though. Keep it light.”

His thumb moves once against my throat, and there’s no pressure yet.

Just touch.

“Tap my wrist if you want me to let go.”

My stomach flips. “Okay.”

His hand settles around my throat, careful, controlled, more claim than force. The pressure is barely there, just enough to make the room narrow around his eyes and my heartbeat.

His other hand slides to my hip. “You like this?”

I nod as the fuzziness, a tingle, spreads across my head. His grip tightens by a fraction of a breath. Just a breath and my knees go weak.

His mouth brushes mine. “Eso eres, ¿verdad? Mi pinche cosita sucia.”

The words hit low and hot, making my eyes flutter and his expression shift.

“You like that too?”

I should lie.

I should ask where the fuck this Fabián has been hiding and if I can please have some more.

“Mmhm.”

His smile is slow and dangerous. “Mi pinche muñequito sucio.”

Fuck.

I kiss him because I can’t survive standing still. That makes him laugh into my mouth like he knows.

Then he lifts me—actually lifts me.

Hands under my thighs, my back hits the fridge harder than either of us expects. Magnets scatter to the floor.

I choke on a laugh. “Your fridge.”