The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(8)
The look in his eyes, dark, dangerous, utterly sexual, had Alaine biting her lip. Then he tilted his head, studying her body for another heart-stopping second before he said, “Keep your hands like this, mami.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“’Cause I’m gonna make you come now.” He let go of one wrist and slid his hand between their bodies, slipping it between her legs. “Fuck,” he groaned as his fingers glided between the folds of her *. “Que mojada estás.”
She knew she was embarrassingly wet, but she couldn’t apologize for it, not when she saw how much it affected him. Even without knowing what he was saying, she could tell. She caressed his hair again, cupped his face when the feel of his fingers forced her eyes shut.
But he stopped before she could truly enjoy it, pulling his hand back so quickly she choked in complaint and blinked up at him. “What?”
“Put your hands back,” he growled at her.
“That’s not fair,” she argued, because it really wasn’t. “I want to touch you as much as you want to touch me.”
“Life’s not fair,” he said as if he believed it. “Besides, this isn’t about me. Put them back.”
Alaine glared at him, the two of them having a battle of wills, before she decided that after five years she wasn’t going to risk losing this over pride. She put her hands back and clutched at the comforter, putting herself on display beneath him.
Chuito had the good grace not to gloat, and he did what he promised. Touching her again, his lips on her neck now. She put her feet on the edge of the bed frame and spread her legs, leaving herself wide open. She closed her eyes once more and decided to just enjoy that he was over her, touching her, trying to do something that she was fairly certain was impossible.
It actually felt shockingly delicious, the way he teased by tracing his fingers along the seam of her *. Not putting them in. Not rubbing her clit. Just touching. Learning. Feeling how wet she was for him.
There was nothing rushed or sloppy about it the way she had experienced with other men. The wrong men. She moaned and arched her back, savoring it. She lost herself to the lulling waves of bliss being under him was causing. It was more than his touch, or the feel of his heavy body over hers. It was just mentally knowing this was Chuito finally putting his hands on her. It was him seeing her. It was him she was spread out and aching for.
God, she wanted him in her so badly.
Her body clenched against her will at the thought, and she couldn’t help but beg, “Please, put them in. Let me feel you inside me.”
If she couldn’t have all of him, she wanted that. She wanted his fingers in her, deep, letting her pretend it was more than that. When he did as she asked, breaching her with one thick finger, she gasped, pushing her hips up impatiently.
“Those hijos de putas said you were cold.” Chuito’s voice was low, a rolling combination of anger and lust. “I should smoke them for that. They should’ve f*cking appreciated you.”
She wanted to say thank you, but her voice was gone as she clenched around him, still needing so much more. All she could do was bite her lip and shift under him, silently begging.
“You’re tight.” His thumb brushed against her clit, just a passing graze that had her moaning. “Tighter than I imagined, and I thought you were a virgin before tonight.”
She wished she was. She wished no one else but him had touched her, but they had, because for a long time she thought the only chance she had of finding companionship was to abandon what her heart and body both told her was absolutely right.
She should have listened to herself.
Chuito leaned down, sucking on one nipple, swirling his tongue around it in a way that had her pushing her hips up against his hand again.
“Screw it,” he groaned as he moved over the other breast. “I’m gonna use my mouth. I wanna f*cking taste it.”
He was using his mouth, but she decided saying anything that would somehow discourage him was a bad idea. Her breathing was still sharp and irregular. There was a coiling, burning need in the pit of her stomach, but she wasn’t fighting for anything. Just lying there letting Chuito love her for as long as he was willing.
And there was no question…he was loving her.
She could feel it when he touched her. She could taste it in his kiss, and she could sense it as he worshipped her body with his lips. Making her feel beautiful in a way she hadn’t with the others.
When he moved his lips lower to her rib cage and slid off the bed, back to his knees, she didn’t stop him, didn’t think to try. She just clutched harder at the comforter. He stopped touching her, grabbing her legs instead, keeping them wide. She opened her eyes in time to see him bend over and lick at the line of her *. He used his fingers, opening her and staring at her before he did it a second time, and Alaine couldn’t help the choking sound of shock.
She’d never had a man do that to her, but she wasn’t appalled that he was doing it. It was actually the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life. She just hadn’t expected it to feel that mind-blowing.
She tossed her head back at the sensation. Then she let go of the comforter to dig her fingers into his hair and hold him there. He didn’t stop her this time. He pulled her closer too, his hands on her ass as if he needed the connection as desperately as she did.