Vice(65)

“Do it,” I whisper. “Open your legs all the way for me, Natalia. I need to make you come.” A shiver runs through her—one I can plainly see. The bare skin on her arms breaks out in goose bumps, despite the heat of the library.

“It’s a bad idea,” she says breathlessly. “What if someone finds us?”

“Then they’ll see that we’re talking and hopefully leave us the f*ck alone.”

“Cade.” Her willpower is dissolving, though. I can feel the muscles in her thighs relaxing ever so slightly, every time I rub my finger over her clit through her panties.

“It’ll be worth it. I want to make you lose your f*cking mind,” I whisper.

“I’m already losing my f*cking mind.” She closes her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, her head begins to tip back.

“Stay with me. Look at me. You need to keep your eyes on me, Natalia. If someone does come in and you look like that, they’re definitely going to know what’s going on.”

She rolls her head back around, opening her eyes, but they have a glazed over quality to them, filled with lust, and I don’t think she’s focusing on much. “God, I…” She trails off, and I can feel how wet she’s getting through her underwear. Beyond wet. I know that when she finally gives in, allowing her legs to fall open, I’ll be able to slide her panties to one side and feel the warm, slick heat of her all over my fingers, and it’s going to drive me f*cking crazy.

Applying a little more pressure, I rub my finger in a small circle, knowing exactly what she likes. Every woman is different, and Natalia prefers a firm touch. I know by the way her hips angle upward as I sweep my finger from left to right. I don’t have to wait much longer for her to give me what I want. Her knees part, and I push forward, hooking my finger beneath her underwear, and then I’m swearing under my breath as I find out exactly how turned on she is.

“Fuck, Natalia. Tell me not to f*ck you right here,” I growl.

“I want you to,” she whispers. “I need you inside me so badly. Please.”

This is just her desire talking, though. We both know it’s impossible for me to take what I want…to give her what she just told me she needs. “Grind against me,” I command. “I want to feel your * on my fingers.”

Her lips part, and her back arches as she angles her hips again, rocking her pelvis so that she’s working with me to create a delicious friction between my hand and her clit.

“Shit,” she hisses, trying to close her eyes again. I was raised in a household, where, for right or wrong, a woman does not curse. I’ve spent many years with women in the military and in the club, and I’ve heard plenty of them swear like sailors, language colorful enough to make the air turn blue, but when Natalia utters this exclamation, a thrill of excitement powers through me. Her accent makes it hotter somehow, and her choice of word makes it seem as though she’s out of control. So hot. So intense. So f*cking wild.

I want a repeat of our last encounter. I want to get her so wet, to free her from her inhibitions, and I want to be the one to claim her during that moment when the world falls away and nothing remains for her but her climax and the sound of her own heart slamming in her ears. Here, though, in this library, with its book stacks, and its deserted tables, and the tall, sweeping windows, overlooking Fernando’s prize f*cking garden? It would be all the hotter in here, where we have no lock on the door and there’s a risk we might get caught.

This is a perilous thought. It’s not f*cking a girl without a rubber and hoping she doesn’t get pregnant. Or that your dick doesn’t fall off afterwards. The consequences of getting caught here, with my fingers inside Natalia Villalobos, are beyond any of that. It would be the difference between life and death. But what a way to f*cking go…

She rocks against my hand, working her hips, and I have to stop myself from sliding down from my seat and disappearing underneath the table, to use my tongue on her. It would be too much to taste her right now. Way, way, way too much. I’d lose my shit, and that would be it. Natalia would be laid out, flat on her back, in less than a heartbeat, and I’d be thrusting my dick inside her harder than she could probably bear.

She’d pant. She’d beg. She’d moan. Most importantly, she would scream, and I just can’t allow that to happen. She whimpers now, as I apply a little more pressure to her clit as I rub, and I give her a warning with my eyes.

“You can’t do that,” I tell her. “You’ve got to be a good girl. You’ve got to behave.”

“Easy for you to say,” she pants. “Would you be able to keep quiet if I had your dick in my mouth?”

I almost groan at the mere thought of it. She was so good the other night, letting me push myself all the way to the back of her throat. She’s right; I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, either.

“Come closer to me.” I shift around the table, sitting at the shorter end, and Natalia moves, too, drawing closer. “Lay your head on me. Bite down on my shoulder. Bite as hard as you need to. It’ll help when I make you come.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to?” she asks, smiling wickedly.

“You’re about three minutes away, beautiful. One hundred and eighty seconds away from total oblivion. Do you want it?”

She closes her eyes, turning her face into me, leaning her forehead against my shoulder. She seems embarrassed to even admit to such a thing.