Raf rolled back toward her as slid on the unwrapped condom. She watched him with bated breath until he turned and focused his attention on her once again, kissing her fiercely until he was positioned over her again, his erection between her legs.
“Oh, wowza,” she said as he finally pushed himself inside her. Grace clapped a hand over her mouth and then froze, horrified she’d ruined the hottest moment of her entire life.
Rafael laughed, seemingly thrilled by her ridiculous reaction. “That’s a good sign, right?”
She nodded. It didn’t take long until they were both slick from sweat, Rafael’s damp forehead crushed to hers, his gasps of pleasure matching her own. His hand slid back down her belly and he pressed it between them until she could move against it at the perfect angle.
“Yes, Raf. Right there.” She kissed him forcefully, biting at his lower lip.
“I’ve thought about this so much,” he admitted. “You are terribly distracting.”
“Really?” Obviously, Grace could tell he was attracted to her, but it was hard to believe she could have overwhelmed his thoughts in the same way he’d overwhelmed hers.
His response wasn’t English.
More and more and more. The friction between them grew as they started to move faster, setting pace with a wild rhythm.
“Graciela,” he groaned. “I’m almost…”
The pleasure built inside of her until it hit its peak, and waves of satisfaction thrashed from her core to her limbs to her toes. Rafael let out another groan, reaching his climax and falling against her, his breath warm against her breasts. She relished the feeling of his weight on her—heavy and limp and glorious.
They were both still for a moment, panting. Grace felt a smile spread across her face. She absently rubbed her thumb against the back of his neck. She could hear both of their hearts beating, both pounding until she couldn’t tell them apart anymore, and whether it was his heart racing double-time or if it was her own no longer seemed to matter.
Raf glanced up at her with a gleam in his eyes. “Oh, wowza,” he said in an American accent. He looked utterly thrilled with himself and full of mischief. He gave her a lazy grin, his fingers digging into her side.
She shook her head as a blush colored her cheeks and flicked him lightly on the back. “Hey,” she teased. “It just slipped out. Don’t mock me.”
He kissed her neck reverently, again and again and again. “Oh, trust me, I’m not mocking you. It seems like the perfect reaction in this situation. I mean it.”
Grace rolled toward him, burying her face against his chest with a laugh. “It was good then?” she asked playfully, though she was anxious to hear his response.
He tilted her chin up and held her gaze, but he was no longer smiling. “Fuck yes, Graciela. Without a doubt.”
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
At last.Madre mía, it happened at last.Grace slept in his arms, and he stroked her hair. Perhaps it was entirely misguided, but he’d been holding out hope that their night together would cure him somehow, that all the desperation and yearning and desire that had been haunting his nights would disappear in an instant, suddenly satisfied. He knew it was too much to wish for, but still, he’d wished. He should be quite content, after all. Under normal circumstances this one night with Grace would be enough.
And yet…
He already knew he’d miscalculated. Maybe one evening of passion would have fulfilled him at any other time, but he already knew he wasn’t satisfied. The entire night with Grace was exactly what he’d been hoping for, but it was also insufficient. He was dying to wake her up and start all over again, to spend Saturday in bed with this woman, to try and try to get his fill, even though it seemed impossible he ever would.
She’d been correct before when she said they should figure it all out before sleeping together, but they’d both neglected that sound reasoning, and here they were, tangled up in each other, connected without a clue as to what it might mean and how to move forward. Normally, none of this mattered. Normally, there was no moving forward, but she was living in his apartment. He saw her every single day, and perhaps the scarier part was that he didn’t want it to stop.
But he had no idea what Grace wanted. She’d said this was a bad idea multiple times, but was it just because of Alma or because she’d just gotten out of a long relationship? Or because she was in a vulnerable place? Or because she had no choice but to live with him? There were a lot of reasons this was a bad idea, it turned out.
Grace shifted in his arms, and he hoped she wasn’t waking up. If they could stay like this for a while longer… Well, it wouldn’t solve anything, but he wanted to delay the talking part as long as possible. He could happily remain like this, watching her sleep, remembering all the details about the night before, for a very long time.
“Hi,” Grace said, and Rafael realized her eyes were open and trained on his face.
“Hi.”
She batted her lashes at him. “You look…concerned.”
“Do I?” He tightened his arm around her slightly. “Probably just tired.”
“Mmm.” Grace leaned into him. She seemed perfectly at ease. “I’m starving. We didn’t eat anything last night.”
Rafael continued to play the events of last night in his head and agreed that none of them had involved dinner. “I guess you’re right.”
