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“What is it?” I croak, breathless.
He reaches the desk and leans over it, bracing his hands before him. “I need to better understand your dynamic withBraulio,” he says, stressing that name in a way that makes me shiver. “So, I want you to fuck me again—but none of that selfish, detached nonsense you’re so good at. I want you to fuck me the way you fucked him. Back when you loved him oh so much. Can you do that?”
My stomach lurches. Sex isn’t what scares me about this proposition. Fuck him like I fucked Diego? Oh, God, no. Never. That is one secret regarding Julian Domingas that I will take to the grave. It was always better sexually with him. He doesn’t seem to realize that.
Can I even put on a show that could convince him otherwise?
“When?” I ask, hoping to buy more time.
No such luck.
“Now,” he says coldly. “This isn’t a standing invitation.”
I purse my lips to hide my disappointment. “You see the state I’m in.”
“Ah, yes. The state of you…” He runs his thumb from my jawline to my forehead and frowns at what he sees. “Don’t pretend like you even feel the pain, Lupe. You carry yourself like a warrior, numb to it all. In fact, don’t ever use pain as an excuse around me.” He swats my face away from him, though not violently. “If you’ve changed your mind, then say so now. I won’t waste any more resources on a sly, manipulative little bitch who can’t back up her big words with action.”
Ouch. He meant the insult that time, and it rightfully stings.
“I will only make the offer one last time—”
“Okay,” I say, palming the desk, desperate to disguise how my hands shake. “Eat with me first. I’m starving and can’t take a drug on an empty stomach.”
His eyes narrow but his smirk returns.
Standing, I follow him into his bedroom, where he activates an intercom system built into the wall and demands food be brought to us.
Not even five minutes later, two scantily-clad women enter the room with trays of assorted appetizers and fruits.
“Take your pick,” Jaguar taunts me. “I’m curious what foods a viper-kitty prefers.”
I take a small, delicate cucumber sandwich in one hand and a strawberry in the other. I eat them sloppily—ravenously—and he watches on, laughing all the while.
“Don’t choke yourself, chica. That’s what I intend for you to do on my cock alone.”
My cheeks burn in response to that comment, and in true predator style, he pounces.
“Braulio never had you suck him off.” Rather than smug, he sounds skeptical.
It’s partly true. Diego preferred to put his cock in other orifices on my body. My pussy. My ass when the mood struck him. My mouth was better utilized uttering praises to him until my voice went hoarse.
“Some men like to slake their needs in other ways,” I say carefully.
“You’re a damn liar. From the second I first met you, I’ve been wondering how deep down that throat you can take me. I think it may be the only way a man could get you to shut the hell up.”
Ah. So he’s still bitter about our poolside discussion. In this instance, I don’t rush to soothe his ego. I keep eating.
I keep stalling.
Think. Think. Fuck him like he thinks I fucked my fictional version of Braulio. He’s after something specific. A set of reactions vastly different from how I’ve been with him. But how?
Damn it. My minuscule arsenal of sexual escapades isn’t anywhere grand enough to please him.
“You seem worried, Lupe,” Jaguar scolds. “Afraid that Braulio will get wind of you exposing your secret playbook? Believe me, sweetheart, there is nothing that I haven’t seen.”
He doesn’t seem to think he’s wrong, but I suspect I can name what he doesn’t understand and wouldn’t recognize. True affection. Love, not lust.
If only I knew what that was. My knowledge in that arena is as limited as his seems to be. What would Pedro suggest I do in this instance? It’s simple. Improvise.
