“Do you think I didn’t like it?” I ask.
Her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink and I smirk. Fuck, she’s cute.
Careful. So fucking careful, I thrust my cock against her center while pulling down on her hips.
Her lips part and her lashes flutter. “Oh,” she gasps. “That feels…”
“Good?” I ask.
She nods, and I do it again. I’m rewarded with a breathy moan falling from her lips.
Cecilia grinding down on my dick is a mixture of pure pleasure and agony. Something I’ve never felt quite like this before.
The hard length of my cock is aligned with her pussy and her thighs cage me in, resting on either side of my waist, but it’s a cage of my own making. And one I have zero desire to escape.
For the next several minutes we dry hump like teenagers on the sofa, her tiny nails digging into my shoulders as she chases her release. Her eyes are glazed and her hair is a mess, but she’s never been more beautiful than she is right now. Needy. Desperate. Determined to take her pleasure.
I’m all but fucking her through our clothes, my dick shoving its way through the fabric of her pants and the thin material of my soccer shorts, but it’s not enough. I want more.
Releasing her, I fist my hands at my sides and shove them back against the cushions.
I refuse to fuck this up. Her hands move from digging into my skin to clawing at the fabric of my shirt as her throat makes this soft mewling sound that drives me absolutely insane. I swear this girl will be the death of me.
Following her lead, I help her tug my shirt over my head, leaving my chest bare. Her eyes darken with lust and she licks her lips in clear appreciation.
Fingers itching, I slip them beneath the hem of her shirt before meeting her gaze. A silent question passes between us and she nods.
Fucking yes.
Swallowing hard, I push up the fabric of her shirt and she obediently raises her arms for me. Peeling it from her skin, I take in every inch of perfectly tanned skin I expose before tossing the shirt aside.
I eye her reverently. “Es un sueña.”
“What does that mean?” I can hear the worry in her voice. The insecurities.
Leaning forward, I kiss the tops of each of her breasts before tilting my head up and meeting her gaze. “You’re a dream.”
A small smile curls the corners of her lips.
“I don’t deserve you,” I tell her, and it’s true. I don’t. Cecilia Russo is cut from a different cloth. An angel walking amongst us mere mortals. She is stronger and braver than anyone I know and I was an idiot to ever believe her selfish or a coward for trying to take her own life. She is the complete opposite of those things and she is quickly becoming my everything.
“I’m too selfish to let you go,” I confess. “I want you, Cecilia.” I smile and shake my head. “No. I don’t want you,” I tell her. “I need you.”
I hope she knows that. Believes it down to the very marrow of her bones. She’s upset with me now. Hurt because I want to protect her. But there is no one else for me. Already, without even having her, she’s ruined me for anyone else. Only she will do.
Her eyes widen and her throat bobs as she swallows hard. I see her doubts reflected in her eyes. The fear. But with me, there is nothing to be afraid of. I would sooner carve my bleeding heart from my chest than do anything to hurt her.
I grab her by the back of the neck and press my forehead to hers. “You are the only woman I want.” I wait for my words to sink in, but instead of answering my declaration with words of her own, Cecilia boldly reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra, letting the thin material fall to her waist.
I jerk my gaze down and crush the lace fabric in my hands, knowing that all it will take is one look and I’m done for. My control will snap.
“Then for tonight, take me.”
Did I hear that right? Cecilia takes the bra from my hands and sets it aside before taking my larger hand in hers and guiding it to her breast.
Shit. Swallowing hard, I stare at her chest and my other hand follows suit to cup her other breast.
“I want this,” she says and rocks into me. “I want you.”
