The bare skin just above her indecent sleep shorts exposes the start of a tattoo I didn’t know was there.
Fuck. What she does to me.
The hand not exploring her hip and skimming lower tangles in her hair and I angle her head back, tilting it to my liking. I savor the challenge still present in her eyes and the parting of those bee-stung lips, but more than that, is that she’s letting me take control.
Mariah doesn’t fight my possessive hold or dominating touch. If anything, my muñeca melts into me as I slant my lips over hers, growling in satisfaction.
The sound is animalistic. Hungry. Thankful for her trust.
Lips hovering, sweeping softly, I stare into those gorgeous sea-foam eyes. “Tell me, Mariah. Just ask and it’s yours.”
“Touch me.” Two simple words, and they wreck any semblance of rationality I have left. She’s all I see, smell, and feel, and on her next exhale, I grip her hips a little tighter.
My nails dig in right before I lift that tight body, bringing her warmth to just above my cock and her legs around my waist. I flex and she shivers, her small fingers embedding themselves into the hair at my nape while her perfectly white teeth bite down on my lip.
The action is one of aggression, a fight against my domination that I counter with a thrust of my hips, pinning her and enjoying the sweet heat seeping through those almost nonexistent shorts. Her nails scratch my neck, and I can feel the skin break as pleasure rips through me.
“Make me bleed, Muñeca. I’ll just make you pay for it with tears later on.” Another flex and she shivers; tightening those thighs, I drop my hand to the right leg, squeezing the skin there.
Mariah is perfect in my eyes.
Supple yet lithe, toned yet curvaceous, and I follow the curve of flesh until her bare cheek meets my fingertips. I caress her, palming it roughly before delivering the first of many smacks.
“Oh, Christ.”
“Javier, Muñeca.” Another spank, this time a little harder. And fuck me if she doesn’t moan. Arching her body in a way that presses her cheek deeper into my palm. “My needy girl only moans for me. My name.”
“I—”
“Say it. Cry out for me.”
She doesn’t comply. Instead, she throws her head back with her eyes closed. Denying me what’s rightfully mine.
Her. All of her.
Punishment it is, then.
Before she can protest, I have her legs on the ground and her body facing the door. She shakes, goose bumps rising across her skin, and I use my nose to push aside a few curls and expose her neck.
Her scent is sweet against the sweep of my lips, and her hips roll as my teeth sink in, leaving behind the perfect indentation of my mouth.
“What’re you...fuck,” Mariah cries out when I dig a little deeper and my hands traverse her front from her flat stomach to her breasts, cupping one in each hand.
I squeeze them. Feel their weight.
And when she whines at my slowness, I slap each tip with a bit of force. The metal of her piercings beneath the thin shirt makes my mouth water and I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay on course and not play a little longer.
I’ll beg her to feed me each little tip later.
Much later.
Instead, I rake my teeth down to the center of her back between her shoulder blades and pause, ripping the offending top down the middle. And as the tattered pieces fall to the ground, so do my knees.
Immediately I take in the two dimples right above her ass and I kiss each, licking a path from right to left, and then I drag my tongue lower, right beneath the shorts that are both a blessing and a curse.
“Javi.” It leaves her on a sacred whisper. The perfect combination of fear and desire. Of giving in to your wants and needs while handing over the control.
“You’re always safe with me.” It’s a vow. The truth.
“I know.”
“Good girl.” One hard tug, and the tiny shorts covering her pool at her feet. Then it’s my turn to groan when I take in the lack of underwear, just a thin little string between her cheeks, and the scent of her arousal. “Motherfuck.”
Sliding my hands up her calves, I follow the path my fingertips take and memorize every inch of bare skin I touch. I revel in the sigh of my name and the gyration of her hips when she presses her thighs together, looking for a small reprieve from the throbbing between them.
She’s wet for me. Swollen, and I confirm this a second later when one hand doesn’t pause at her inner thighs and cups her pussy through the lace of her G-string.
The soft material is soaked, clinging to her mound.
Slick heat. So soft.
“We should...I need…” with the tips of my fingers I rub tight little circles over her clit and stop “...more. Just more.”
“As you wish.” Sitting back on my haunches, I remove my hands from her body and admire her just like this. At my mercy. So beautiful and mine.
“What? No,” she whines, a petulant sound that makes me smile. “Why are you stopping?”
“Spread your legs and bend over. Hands on the wall.” One of her hands slips down and between her thighs, the tips of her fingers barely visible from where I sit. Bad girl. I don’t say anything, but quickly land a harsh smack to the top of her right asscheek. Blood rushes to the surface as the sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates throughout the room. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Muñeca. Spread them.” Mariah bends and spreads, but I want more. I want her asshole and pussy on display and legs shaking from anticipation. “Wider.”
Perfection. She’s an absolute wet dream become reality, and I lean forward when the two holes I plan to worship meet my line of sight. I trace a finger over the heated flesh where my palm print adorns her skin and travel down, slowly, learning her every moan and sigh as I meet the area where ass meets thigh and then walk my fingertips to the dip at the center.
Heat sears my skin and her wetness coats me as I caress each inner thigh and then pause at the entrance to my heaven. She’s clenching, body shaking, and I’ve barely touched her.
“This changes everything,” I say, tone harsher than I intend, but having her like this—at my mercy—is more than a heady feeling. I’m entranced. Owned just as much as I own her. “Tell me you understand this.”
“Javier, we should talk—”
“Tell me you understand, Mariah. No more running or avoiding.” I kiss each cheek and then lay one right over her puckered hole, flicking my tongue across the sensitive skin twice before waiting for a response. A hard shiver runs through her, her body swaying above me, and I grip her waist with one hand to steady her. She’s aroused and needy and ready for more, but my words take away her docility— she wants to fight me or anything that demands her trust. Stubbornness is something we share, and I’ll fight just as hard and dirty to possess her. “Say it, or I walk.”
“Then I’ll take care of myself,” she grits out, trying weakly to push back against my hold. “You can leave…Javi!”
“Louder.” The pathetic string she calls underwear is in my fist, the front digging into the sopping, swollen flesh of her cunt. One rough tug, and it snaps. “Let everyone in this building know I’m the one making you scream.”
“No.”
“Don’t deny me, beautiful.”
“Make me.” Two words. They tell her truth, expose the push she needs from me, and yet they’re the wrong words to tell a man barely hanging on to sanity and I land another smack to the round globes mere inches from my face. Then another, I leave her skin hot and body undulating, seeking the release only I’ll give her.
Mariah tries to close her thighs, but before they touch, I palm and push them apart. The sight before me is almost obscene. Depravedly exquisite.
“You wanted this. Just remember that.”
I don’t give her a chance to answer, to further ignite me with her sharp tongue, and I bury my face between the two rosy cheeks. My tongue tastes her, flicking against the soft rosebud in a silent promis
e to be back before descending lower.
She’s sweet and slick, soaking my lips and chin.
I lick her from back to front, pausing briefly at her pussy’s entrance—dipping my tongue inside—before sliding down to her clit. The tiny bundle of nerves throbs against my tongue, coming out of its hood to greet my growls against the swollen flesh.
I become a savage for her. Take without care because she’s woven her brujeria and I’m a proud slave for her.
With her clit between my lips, I bring a finger to her flexing hole and dip it inside to the first knuckle. Her walls pulse, hole fluttering around my finger to pull me in deeper, and I give my girl just that.
Son of a bitch she’s tight. So soft.
I pull the digit out coated in her sweetness and slam it back in, pumping it a few times before adding a second.
The slam of her hand on the wall is loud, and the way she rises onto the tips of her toes, both wanting to escape my touch while grinding against my face is a privilege to experience.
“Oh my God!” she cries out suddenly, and I chuckle against her clit before raking my teeth once again down the hood, adding a little more pressure before pulling back and admiring the view of her slick thighs, flexing rosebud, and the vice-like grip on my fingers.
“You always call out to me.” It’s a hiss, my fingers slipping out long enough to slap the length of her pussy, fingertips landing over the throbbing bundle. The barely contained snarl, the undisguised hunger in my tone causes a rush of wetness to spill into my palm and down my wrist, a few drops marking the floor. The little demon. “Do you like it rough? Do you like to beg?”
Before she can open her mouth in protest, I’m gripping her hips and flipping her around to face me. Our eyes meet, my hungry ones on her heavy-lidded ones, and I slowly make my way back to her pussy, spreading her labia with my tongue as her lips part. She’s panting, chest rising rapidly while I suck the first then second lip into my mouth, starving for more of the wetness coating her bare skin.
So pretty and pink. So mine.
“Motherfucking answer me, Muñeca. Are you testing my patience?”
“Please, Javi.” Christ, her voice is all soft with a hint of desperation that pierces my gut and further stiffens my cock. I’m so fucking hard. Throbbing, I raise her right thigh over my shoulder with one hand while releasing myself with the other.
The cold air meets the swollen, angry head and I hiss, bringing two fingers to her opening and push them inside—pumping them in and out rapidly and I’m rewarded with a rush of wetness that I use to lube my cock.
With my fingers soaked in her, I bring my face once again against her core and breathe her in, rubbing my nose over her clit.
Above me she’s whining, arching her back and pulling on her nipples while my tongue follows the same path, using the flat of my tongue to catch every drop and bring her closer to the edge.
“I’m so close.”
“Give me what’s mine.” My voice doesn’t drown out the sound of my hips meeting my hand, cock piercing through the tight fist as I forget about anything but her. Her taste. Her scent. Her scream as I bite down on her clit hard enough to make her come. “Good girl.”
There’s nothing I find sexier than your trust.
“...” Her lips part but no words escape. She’s lost to her pleasure, riding my tongue while I continue to fuck my fist.
I’m so close. Just need...
Mariah grips my hair hard, a few strands breaking as she pulls me closer—holds me to her while a second orgasm rips through her lithe frame.
“Fucking hell, Muñeca,” I growl, tightening my hold to almost the point of pain, and come overflows my palm and lands on the floor below.
At the same time, her legs give out and she slides down into my lap, letting me wrap her in my arms.
We sit there for a while. Just breathing. Calming racing hearts when the bag with dessert catches my attention and hers.
It doesn’t look ruined, the container and bag not broken, and I clear my throat. “We need to talk.”
14
“WHAT ARE YOU thinking about, beautiful?” Javier asks, and I’m pulled back from my thoughts. Everything he’s said, the giant mess created by the twins, spins in my mind. Sadly, this makes more sense than the behavior displayed by who I now know isn’t Mildred.
Because while she remained aloof this time, there wasn’t the usual glare or underhanded comment she passed as a compliment in the hallway after I showed them out. A behavior that I’d roll my eyes at in the past, I found the lack of strange.
Mildred and I never spent time together outside of the necessary business meetings, but the woman has always been unpleasant. Always miserable in my presence.
However, I get it now. Mildred was nothing but the bitter other woman.
Lane couldn’t leave me, not without dealing with consequences his parents couldn’t spare him from. Christ, he made me the fool of the story, and even with that, this delusional bitch had the gall to be angry with me as if I’d taken something from her.
You killed him. I did. And would again to protect myself.
“Just thinking,” I answer truthfully, giving him a small shrug before taking a sip from my lukewarm coffee. We’re in my living room and dressed somewhat; I’m wearing his shirt while Javi remains bare-chested and tempting.
There’s no awkwardness. No regret. No self-reproach when I’ve fought so hard to keep him at bay.
Instead, I feel at peace even though the situation with the Fredericks leaves a sour taste in my mouth—ire in my veins—but it’s contained with him by my side. Not even the memory of my parents betrayal and the disdain on the Dermots face make my heart clench like before. Instead, I find myself thinking rationally, not acting on impulse while enjoying the view in the seat across from mine.
Javier’s tan muscles and the small amount of chest hair across his pecs are on display, and I’m memorizing each. My gaze travels lower and across beautiful tattoos, unashamed, and I count each indentation that leads to a delicious ‘V’ I want to run my tongue across.
He’s a bit of a distraction, but I like it. Secretly love the fact he refuses to let me be.
A throat clears and once again I meet his eyes, feeling the slight heat sweep across my face. I’ve never been a person who blushes, but this man has that effect on me. He makes me lose my train of thought and the ability to send him to hell.
He has no idea he’s already won.
“Be specific, Mariah. You’ve been silent for twenty minutes, and your facial expressions range from lust to anger. And before you answer, that lust better be for me.”
“And if it isn’t?” I challenge back, loving the way his nostrils flare and jaw clenches. Testing his patience is a turn-on, and the earlier result was worth every minute we’ve fought so far. Subtly, I rub my thighs together, but he catches the act and raises a brow, smirk in place. “Answer me, Muñeca,” he croons, and goose bumps rise, a stuttered breath caught in my throat as I choke back a groan. He has me with that nickname. The effect is always the same as liquid heat rushes through my veins and settles in my core. The day he realizes this, I am screwed. “If I parted those thick little thighs and ran a finger down your folds, I’d find you wet. More than eager.” Abort. Abort before you climb into his lap and ride that beautiful thickness you watched him abuse. “And while God knows how badly I want you on my tongue again, I’m concerned with your reaction to the Mildred situation. You’re being too passive for the fiery woman I know.”
His expression is one of sincere concern and I offer a small smile back, a different feeling taking over me. It flutters, feels like a thousand and one butterflies dancing within, and I melt back into my seat. Not just because of the magnificent orgasm he gave me, but because he came here with the intent to talk—keep total honesty between us—and that’s something I appreciate.
He’s proving day by day to be everything his reputation preceeds and so much more. Javier Lucas is everything I find attra
ctive, and my walls crumble with each look, that gentle way his eyes sweep over me with affection so sweet I can’t fight against it.
After a few beats of silence, I give him the same honesty back. “It’s a lot to take in, Javi.”
“Are you upset about the nature of their relationship?” There’s a hint of jealousy there, some tensing of his muscles, but I won’t call him out on it.
“Not in the least.” There’s no hesitation from me and he nods, relaxing back a bit. “But I am curious here…”
“That’s all I know, Mariah. Do I have the file? Yes.” Figured as much. Getting information on anyone is just a matter of time and connections. “However, I haven’t read it. I’m waiting for you to fill in the blanks.”
“Thank you.”
“You deserve my respect.”
Again, my heart thumps harshly at his words. My smile widens. “Then my next question is how much time do you have to give?”
His scent surrounds me, his shirt keeping me warm and I inhale deeply, taking him into my lungs and holding it there. There’s a yearning within me that I can’t control. He makes me forget the past and live for the present.
Really live. Want the more I’ve been running from.
“My entire life.”
My eyes close at those three simple words and the heavy implication behind them. “That’s a long time, Javi. Are you sure?”
“I am.” Now he is the one without hesitation. His conviction makes me happy until I remember the topic of conversation and the earlier surprise left outside my door. My brows furrow as my mind runs and coincidences don’t seem so innocent. Mildred. “What is it?”
Something tells me what I’m about to say will piss him off, but if he’s honest with me, then I’ll always return the favor.
“Earlier tonight, I received a bouquet of roses.” Javier’s hands clench at my words, but he nods for me to carry on. I meet his stare and keep it there. “They were left outside the door, black from the flowers to the vase, and without a note.”
“Hijueputa,” he grits out, and I won’t deny that hearing him swear in Spanish is a turn-on. Javier doesn’t do it often, speak in his native tongue, but I wish he would. It also makes me want to find ways to provoke it.
Yours (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 4) Page 11
