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I moan his name as his mouth travels to the front of my panties, the silk fabric already wet with my desire. He growls when he sees this, biting at the fabric and making my ass squirm in his hands. He brings them around to my hips and pins them down, keeping me still as he soaks my underwear with his tongue. My eyes are near rolling to the back of my head when he tears my panties down with his teeth. He stops mid-thigh and stares at my naked flesh, his eyes leveled with my sex.
Suddenly, I feel nervous. Not because of his pace or really anything to do with him, but because I’ve never had someone go down on me before. I don’t know how to do this or how to act, so my thighs tense up and he stops to look up at me, noticing my hesitation. I bite my lip, my throat drying as his eyes track my teeth. He holds my gaze as his tongue extends from his mouth and licks straight up the length of my entire pussy.
My head falls back into the couch, but he yanks my hips forward, making me meet his eyes once more. They are wild and practically glowing with lust, and they make me grow wetter than I already am.
“You’ll look at me when I eat you.” That’s an order and I don’t fight him on it, the pleasure of his tongue against my wet flesh rendering me silent. I realize now that this may be his best way to get me to comply with anything he says. I’ve never felt anything this good in my life. The pleasure is too much to bear.
He begins fucking me with his tongue and my legs start to shake. I know my orgasm is nearing its peak, so I lift my hips instinctively to his mouth. I begin to shake violently, and I call out his name as my climax crashes against his mouth like a hurricane. I tremble as I hear him murmur, “Como la miel.”Like honey, into my quivering sex.
He licks me until I come down, until I’m pulling my hips away from him so that he doesn’t have access to my sensitive flesh. He backs away from me, not in disgust but in silence. Which is good I guess, coming from him, the creator of whiplash himself.
I pull my pants up, suddenly feeling insecure about my nakedness. He clicks his tongue at me, staring at my breasts as they heave with my unsteady breathing.
“You just came like a waterfall against my lips, Esmeralda. Don’t feel shy now.” He licks his lips for emphasis and takes a seat at his desk. My face is flushed red and suddenly, I feel crowded both by him and my emotions. I just learned about my biological father, a leader in one of most dangerous cartels, and also just got oral sex from his sworn enemy. The room began to spin as my reality crashed down on me.
I get up quickly and begin to sprint out of his office and towards my bedroom. His dark voice calls out my name behind me, but I keep running.
12
Esmeralda
I've beenin my bedroom for over twelve hours, and the early dawn of the next day rises quickly before my eyes.
Ever since I was in Dante’s boardroom, my stomach has been a knot of confusion. A twisted mix of butterflies, nerves and nausea. Nausea from the new information about my father, the nervous butterflies by Dante’s tongue.
El Oscuro is the devil himself, but he’s awoken a passion and desire from somewhere so deep inside of me, that I had no idea it ever existed. Obviously, my track record with men is both short and complicated, much of my time having been focused on both school and survival, so I’ve had no time to really give that desire a voice or thought. I’m a pretty vanilla person, until him.
He makes me feel like a hypocrite, like a walking contradiction. Who in their right mind can both hate and desire a person with so much passion? How is that even possible? I definitely was sick like them. Like my mother, like my sperm donor, like Dante. I’ve spent my whole life skating by thinking I was one of the innocent ones, but I’ve had a target on my back since I was born and it seems that I’m blending right into the darkness.
I sigh and stretch my legs, my thighs still tense from keeping them pressed together as intruding thoughts of him linger inside my brain and womb. No man has ever made me feel so desirable. No man has ever made me hate them so fucking much either.
I take a quick shower and dress in more designer clothes that fit me like a glove. I'm starting to feel less like a stranger in them and that thought makes my stomach twist even more. This is not my life, not the future or lifestyle I had ever pictured for myself, yet here I am. Quivering from an evil man's tongue and dressed in Gucci.
I settled with a cream colored, silk and long-sleeved shirt that buttons down the front. I left the top few buttons undone, my throat and collarbone bare. The shirt was bagged with a pair of high waisted, tan and tapered pants with a tie belt. I slid them on and was amazed by the material and how they fit perfectly against my legs. Slipping on a pair of nude flats, I admired myself in the mirror.
Never in a million years did I think I'd be dressed in Gucci and walking the halls of a mansion. For the first time in my life, I actually felt sort of beautiful. Not average looking in worn and used clothes. I felt pretty and I couldn't stop my brain from thinking about how Dante's rough fingers would feel against this fabric, stripping it off me slowly.
I blinked the thoughts away and walked out of my bedroom towards my mom's. The conversation we have is short and I don't bring up anything about my father. I just watch her sip coffee in comfortable silence before I make my way towards the kitchen to help Javier. The room is quiet and I look at the chalkboard calendar on the fridge.
My birthday is tomorrow. Not just my birthday, but my twenty-first birthday. Ricky and I have been talking about this day since we were teens. He's a month older than me, so in solidarity we vowed to go out and drink at a bar for the first time on my birthday. I wonder if he's kept that vow in my absence.
Javier is stirring some spicy smelling broth while I munch on an apple. It is a comfortable silence until Sergio walks in, face stern and solid as usual. This man is all business no play and I can't help but wonder if he's ever had an ounce of fun in his life. Maybe killing people was his source of fun.
"Dante's out for the day, and he should arrive late this evening. Dinner will just be for the staff and you." Sergio looks at me directly, narrowing his eyes.
"Don't try anything like the last time. Surveillance is on in every room."
I raise my hands in surrender and he leaves just as quickly as he entered.
"So, what's for dinner?" I ask Javier.
"Mondongo. A traditional Colombian soup. The guards love it." I smile at him as I tie an apron on, standing next to him and peering into the pot.
"Teach me the recipe?"
He smiles, a big and bright smile.
"I'd love nothing more."
