Vice(66)
“Natalia? Do you want it?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “God, Cade. Please. I want it.”
Yeah. That’s what I thought. I roll her clit under my fingers a little faster, using the pads of my index and my middle finger now. I’m stimulating her, rubbing more of her, causing her to shudder against me. She does as I told her to, and she bites down on my shoulder, her breath coming out in jagged, tense blasts.
“God…three minutes is too long,” she pants. “Please, Cade… Please, please…” She begs me over and over again. I could stretch this out, make it last longer and give myself more of a show. It’s so f*cking hot to see and hear her this turned on, her tits straining against the material of her shirt, her nipples obviously budded and swollen underneath her clothes. It would be far too cruel to do that to her, though. Not when she’s this pent up and ready to explode.
“Okay, beautiful,” I tell her. “Okay. I’ve got what you want. Shhh.” Sitting forward, I roughly shove her legs even wider still underneath the table. Her skirt is up around her waist now, exposing her *, and it’s the sexiest, hottest thing I have ever f*cking seen. I have to finish this now, before it gets any further out of control. I pull her as far back into her seat as I can, and then I rub my fingers quickly from side to side, making sure I’m firm enough to make her claw at me, hands grabbing at my arm, her teeth cutting into my skin though the material of my shirt, but not hard enough to hurt her.
I’ve found the right rhythm and motion for her. Natalia is a ball of pent up energy as I drive her closer and closer toward the edge.
It’s not long before her back is arching, her eyes screwing shut, and my fingers are suddenly soaking with her pleasure. She jolts every time I flick her clit, jumping and moaning, clearly very sensitive.
I am one proud motherf*cker. I’ve made plenty of girls come with my hands, my mouth, my dick, and any other body part you’d care to mention, but this time is different. When Natalia opens her eyes, looking up at me, dazed, her lips bruised-looking and swollen from her desire, her cheeks flushed bright red, I’m so f*cking pleased with myself. I’m elated that I’ve made her feel this way.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she whispers, grinning from ear to ear.
I run my hand up and down the smooth skin of her thigh, grinning back at her. “Well I can. And they feel pretty f*cking amazing.” Slowly, I raise my hand from underneath the table, and I slide my index finger into my mouth. Natalia watches me with a look of confusion on her face, until she suddenly realizes it’s one of the fingers I’ve been f*cking her with, and she looks mortified.
“Cade! Don’t!” She tries to stop me from sucking her come from my fingers, but I take hold of her wrist restraining her with my other hand.
“I’m not apologizing for this,” I tell her. “I’ll never f*cking apologize for wanting to taste your * all over my hands. It’s the hottest thing ever.” I move onto my middle finger, savoring the moment, savoring the way my dick is throbbing, aching so badly now that I have her on my tongue.
“You just wait, beautiful,” I say. “You just f*cking wait. It won’t be long before we can enjoy each other’s bodies without holding back. It won’t be long before we can scream the f*cking house down, I promise you that.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IN MOTION
The last thing I want to do right now is get ready for a party. I didn’t bring smart clothes with me, and most of what I did bring was torn to shit by Harrison and his men. So a suit and tie? I highly doubt they have a tailor down on Orellana village, and I’m not all that great at producing designer clothes out of thin f*cking air. I should have kept the suit I wore when I flew here from Mexico, but I didn’t know I’d be needing it again, and carrying it around in a backpack would have f*cked it up anyway.
I’ve made peace with the idea that I’m going to have to wear the casual clothes I’ve been wandering around the forest in for the past month, when I come back to my room and find a black garment bag laid out on my bed for me. I stand there and look at it for a while. I shouldn’t be surprised that Fernando thought of this. He asked me to help Harrison with security for the event, so he wants me looking my best, no doubt. I’d rail against this, make a point of wearing my ripped jeans and stained t-shirt just to be an *, but I need to blend in. If my plans are going to come to fruition, I need to disappear in a crowd. The rich bastards who have flocked to the Villalobos estate from far and wide are going to notice a guy in f*cked-up civvies way more than they’ll notice another tall dude with designer stubble, in a designer suit, gliding around with a glass of champagne in his hand.
I open the garment bag, and the smell of freshly woven and cut fabric hits me. No hand-me-downs here; this is a brand new suit, and it’s f*cking beautiful. It’s black as pitch, and the material is the finest money can buy. Shame it’s going to be covered in blood by the time the night is over.
******
Music floods the vast hallways and reception rooms of the Villalobos mansion, subtle notes resonating against delicate glass ornaments and cut crystal chandeliers, making them sing. There were so many “guests” at the house already, but as the night draws in the place grows busier and busier, people arriving by the carload. Ocho shuttles back and forth in the Patriot or the Humvee, driving down the mountain to collect more visitors, opening doors and escorting both men and women into the house. He’s still wearing his headphones, the sound of Jurassic 5 thumping out of the tinny speakers loud enough that it can be heard over the chatter and bubble of conversation that fills the front foyer. I’m surprised Fernando hasn’t told Ocho to make himself scarce. He cuts a fairly ragged figure in his sweat stained khaki shirt and faded gray combat pants, his boots battered and worn almost to the point of destruction, but Fernando has him running around all over the place in preparation for the party’s commencement, apparently unfazed by his man’s appearance.