Rebeca looks at her again.
She feels the heat slowly rising up her neck. She wants to deny it. She really wants to. But when her eyes meet Martina’s, she can’t stop her gaze from saying something very different.
Something that makes it clear, without the need for words, that the only thing she wants at that moment is to kiss her again. To lose herself in her mouth, in her hands, in that intensity that only she has known how to awaken. That, despite everything, she is willing to take the risk again.
Chapter 21
“You’re going to be late for work,” says Rebeca.
“We’re going to be late, but I don’t care…” Martina replies.
The words dissolve against Rebeca’s lips in a hoarse whisper. Martina pushes her firmly against the apartment door, and their mouths meet in a devouring, deep, almost violent kiss. Rebeca’s hands are already at the neck of Martina’s blouse, impatiently pulling at the buttons. Martina responds with equal ferocity, sliding her fingers under Rebeca’s T-shirt, pulling it up her torso until she rips it off.
They move forward without breaking contact, stumbling down the narrow hallway. Martina’s jacket slips off her shoulders and lands on the bedroom threshold. Rebeca guides her backward, kissing her, biting her lower lip while her fingers unhook the bra she’s wearing. The clasp gives way and Martina moans against her mouth, a low, guttural sound that vibrates between her bare breasts. Their bodies brush against each other, now unimpeded, and a delicious, damp heat begins to build between her legs.
They reach the edge of the bed. Rebeca pushes Martina onto the mattress and the woman falls onto her back, her hair scattered across the white sheets, her eyes shining with desire. Rebeca kneels between her open legs and pulls down her pants along with her panties. Martina lifts her hips to help her,impatient, and when she is completely naked, Rebeca sets about undressing herself as well.
Their bodies melt into a passionate embrace. Rebeca slides a hand between them, moving down Martina’s taut abdomen until she finds her soaking wet sex. Two fingers sink in without warning, deep, and Martina arches her back with a stifled gasp, digging her nails into Rebeca’s shoulders.
Rebeca begins to finger her, thrusting in and out with relentless rhythm. The wet, obscene sound of her hand against the hot flesh fills the room, mingling with Martina’s ragged moans. She lowers her mouth to one of her breasts, sucking the nipple hard, nibbling and tugging at it as she quickens the motion. Martina writhes beneath her, her legs spread as wide as they’ll go, her hips thrusting upward to take more. Sweat begins to bead on their skin. Rebeca feels Martina’s inner muscles contract around her fingers, the pleasure tightening her like a string about to snap.
She pulls her fingers out abruptly and Martina protests with a frustrated moan, but Rebeca is already moving down. She spreads the trembling thighs wider and sinks her mouth onto her sex. Her tongue travels its entire length, savoring it, and Martina cries out while one hand tangles in Rebeca’s hair, pulling at it. Rebeca devours her mercilessly; she thrusts her tongue inside her and then moves back up, alternating with her fingers. Martina falls apart. Her hips move on their own, seeking friction, heat, pressure. Rebeca feels the orgasm wash over her and her body tenses completely. Pleasure shakes her, and Rebeca feels a hot, abundant stream wet her hand and chin. She doesn’t stop. She keeps licking and fingering her until Martina is left trembling, breathing raggedly, her eyes half-closed and her mouth open.
But Rebeca isn’t done. She sits up, her chin glistening with moisture, and positions herself on top again. Their genitals press tightly together. Rebeca begins to move, a slow, deep rocking motion that makes their bodies slide against each other, wet, hot, and slippery. Every thrust is deliberate, controlled, and Martina responds by lifting her hips, digging her nails into Rebeca’s back to pull her even closer to her body.
The rhythm grows wilder. Rebeca rocks against her, and shortly after, she slides her fingers into Martina again. Martina arches her back and seeks out Rebeca’s body, while Rebeca feels her own pleasure rising like a tide—hot, unstoppable. She rubs against Martina’s thigh and hand, seeking release while continuing to move against her. They reach orgasm almost simultaneously. Martina’s orgasm is violent, a spasm that makes her scream Rebeca’s name. Rebeca comes seconds later, with a muffled moan against Martina’s neck, as pleasure overwhelms her in intense waves, her own body throbbing and releasing wetness against the other’s thigh.
For a few seconds, all that can be heard is the rapid beating of their hearts and their panting, which gradually subsides as they lie there. Martina has her eyes closed, one hand still tangled in Rebeca’s hair. And Rebeca rests her cheek against her chest, feeling how the desire doesn’t fade away completely. Despite the exhaustion weighing on her limbs, her body continues to tremble, begging for more.
Martina opens her eyes and looks at her with a burning intensity. Without saying a word, she pulls her close and kisses her slowly, a lazy kiss but one full of intention. Her hands trace Rebeca’s sweaty back, sliding down to her buttocks and squeezing tightly, spreading them slightly apart. Rebeca moans against her mouth and sits up just a little, straddling her.She guides one of Martina’s hands between her own thighs. Martina’s fingers penetrate her easily, still wet and eager. Rebeca begins to move on top, riding her hand with slow, deep movements, while leaning down to kiss Martina’s breasts, to bite her neck, and to suck on her skin.
They move together again, slower but with the same intensity. Rebeca rides Martina’s fingers, making them slide in and out with every downward thrust of her hips. Martina, from below, raises her other hand and pinches one of her nipples, pulling on it as her fingers move inside her. The pleasure rises fast, brutally. Rebeca speeds up, her breasts bouncing with every movement, and sweat drips down her back. Martina watches her, mesmerized, as Rebeca comes with a muffled cry, but she knows full well that it’s not over yet.
Martina flips her over with a quick movement and positions herself on top. Now she’s the one in control. She spreads Rebeca’s legs with her knees and slides two fingers inside her, moving with a hard, almost punishing rhythm. She lowers her mouth to her breast, sucking hard on the nipple while her fingers thrust in and out mercilessly. Rebeca arches her back, moaning, and the pleasure surges back, more intense, almost painful from how good it feels, and a new orgasm courses through her entire body.
Rebeca brushes her lips against Martina’s sweaty temple and murmurs, hoarse and satisfied:
“Let’s take a shower… before we start all over again and don’t get out of this bed all day.”
Martina smiles against her neck, still trembling, and nods. They get up with effort, their legs weak. Rebeca takes her hand and drags her toward the bathroom. The hot water awaitsthem, but they both know that the shower won’t be enough to extinguish the fire still burning between them.
Chapter 22
Music is already playing in the living room when Martina Valcárcel refills several wine glasses from the bottle someone has left open on the table. The celebration has been underway for a while, and the apartment is filled with voices, laughter, and the constant clinking of glass as they make impromptu toasts. The air smells of freshly served food and perfume mixed with the soft scent of the candles Julia has placed on the shelf to create a warmer, cozier atmosphere.
Martina moves among the guests with a smile she’s trying to make look natural, though inside she feels that every step takes an enormous effort. On the dining room table are several trays of empanadas, a warm salad that Julia prepared with care that afternoon, a couple of tortillas that Cora brought, and a cheese board that someone has placed in the center, which looks delicious. Bottles of wine are piling up next to the open beers, and in the kitchen there’s more food waiting to be brought out once the first round is gone.
Conversations easily overlap, creating a tapestry of sound that fills the room.
Cora is chatting animatedly with Ariadna near the sofa. Ariadna’s friends—Naima, Eva, and Zule—are listening, laughing, to a story that seems to have become increasingly exaggerated as it unfolds. Near the window, Tomás, a formercoworker of Martina’s, is discussing movies with Lucía, a photographer whom Julia has invited because she works with her on some projects.
And among them all is Rebeca.
Martina tries not to stare at her, but finds it almost impossible. She’s leaning against the wall next to the bookshelf, listening to Ariadna while holding a glass of wine in her hand with an elegance that suits her perfectly. She’s wearing a simple T-shirt that shows off her figure beautifully, and black pants that Martina can’t wait to take off. Her posture is relaxed, almost languid, and it inevitably draws Martina in.
Every time their eyes meet, even if only for a fleeting second, Martina feels a heat coursing through her, burning all over her body. A heat that has nothing to do with the wine or the temperature in the room.
She quickly looks away and takes a small sip from her glass, pretending that the taste of the red wine interests her more than the woman who occupies all her thoughts.
