He leaned toward her, his nose tracing her jawline. “Maybe it’s a bad idea, Graciela, but I can’t think about that now. I can’t think of anything but touching you.”
“Yes,” she said again. She’d say it many more times that night, she was sure. She hoped she would scream it from his bed.
He exhaled a thick breath then, as if taking a moment to prepare himself, and then he put his hands against her face and kissed her.
It started slow at first. A soft, delicious kiss, tender and sweet, but when Grace moaned, he pushed harder against her, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. He wrapped an arm around her back to anchor her against him and pressed another hand to the back of her neck to hold her firmly in place so he could keep kissing her. She could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. She wanted more and more and more.
She leaned against him, easing her whole torso into the firm shape of his body and sighing. This ache had been building inside of her for days, and finally she was getting some relief, finally she was able to touch him again—to put her fingers in his hair, to slide her hands under his shirt to feel his smooth skin and the muscles of his abdomen.
He felt exactly as she’d imagined, firm and perfect and warm. She wanted to explore him. She wanted to see all of him, every inch of his incredible form, so ridiculously proportionate and beautiful, so unlike a Picasso painting, but a work of art, nonetheless.
She tugged his shirt until he yanked it off the rest of the way. Her eyes moved down his body, drinking in the sight of him before she spread her fingers over his chest and then gripped his arms.His arms, holy moly.
When she felt his eagerness pressing between her thighs, her whole body seemed to hum with anticipation. She was going to have sex with Rafael Ferrer-Martín. She’d fantasized about it. She’d imagined it many, many times, but she never really believed it would happen. And in that moment, she didn’t care if it was only one time. It didn’t matter if she was just a conquest, like Alma suggested. She was willing to be conquered, a notch on his bedpost, whatever it took. It would be worth it. And he would be a notch on her bedpost, too. It would be a point of pride that she’d landed someone who looked like him, even if she never told a soul.
Raf herded her toward his bedroom with his body, pushing her backward until her back was against the door. He found the knob, and they stumbled to the bed while he unbuttoned her shirt, whispering Spanish phrases as he revealed more of her skin, inch by inch. When her shirt was on the floor, he paused and took her in, his eyes landing on the swell of her small breasts compressed against the cups of her bra.
“Dios mio, Graciela. You’re so fucking beautiful.” He lowered himself over her on the mattress, his hands working her bra hooks, and then he let out another string of Spanish that she could only assume was absolutely filthy.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
He laughed and nuzzled into her neck again before raising up enough to reach the button of her pants. She wriggled around desperately, helping him to strip them off. Then she started in on him, tugging at his slacks until he leaned back and pulled them off the rest of the way.
Soon, they were both left in only their underwear, and Grace marveled at the body before her, a sculpted figure in boxer briefs.
Raf let out a grunt and pressed his fingers between her legs. He kissed her wildly. First her lips, then her neck. Then he left a trail of kisses between her breasts and down her belly until his hot breath joined his hand.
Grace writhed beneath his touch, too eager for him to keep going.
“You want this, Graciela?” His voice was laced with barely restrained need.
“Yes,” Grace said in a whimper, just as she’d known she would.Yes. Yes.
He put his mouth against the fabric between her legs and sucked before teasing her with his teeth on the cotton. She responded by arching her hips toward him and sliding her fingers through his hair. He rubbed his thumb against the edge of her panty line, teasing her.
“Raf,” she said, breathless.
“Mmm?”
“I’m ready.” She wiggled on the bed, desperate for more contact.
He looked up and locked eyes with her with a smirk. “I can tell.”
She exhaled, letting her head fall back on his pillow. “Then get going already. You’re killing me.”
“So impatient, Graciela. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. I’m not going to rush through it now.” She groaned as he moved up her body, pressing his fingers between her legs again.
Finally, she managed to tug at the waistband of his briefs until they were around his thighs. He ripped them off, then he lifted her ankles in the air and slid her cotton underwear down her legs. He pressed kisses to her hips and licked her inner thigh while grabbing onto her ass. She twisted to take his bare erection in her hand and stroked it, trying to drive him as wild as she was so he would move faster.
“Ahh,” he said. “Alright. Slow down or this will all be over too quickly.”
“What?” she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. She did slow down, but she tightened her grip.
He gasped. “Fuck, Graciela.”
She got her way at last, and he moved over her again, positioning himself at her center and spreading her legs wider. She helped to guide him where she wanted him and then pushed her hands against the back of his neck, bringing his lips back to hers so she could kiss him.
“Do you have…?” For some reason she couldn’t say the words, but of course he knew what she meant and leaned toward the nightstand. Grace tried not to think about the other girls who had been in this bed making use of this same box of condoms. She wasn’t supposed to care about that. She didn’t. All she needed was this one, perfect night and nothing else.
