Damián had a sense that Mac would be good for Rosa. He wanted her to find real love, the same kind he shared with Savannah.
“Aidan, do you wanna walk Chiquita with me after dinner?” Marisol’s voice drifted to him across the room, making Damián shift his gaze over Rosa’s shoulder to the other table. “She likes sniffing around the neighborhood.”
“Sure thing. I’ll need a walk after eating so much, but I can’t stop. It’s been a while since we’ve had a home-cooked meal.”
Savannah bent closer to Damián’s ear and whispered, “I think our little girl might have a crush on Aidan.” She didn’t sound any happier about that fact than Damián was.
While Aidan merely smiled at the hero worship in Marisol’s eyes before taking another bite of the turkey, Damián decided he might need to have a talk with the boy to make sure his little girl’s heart didn’t get broken.
A year ago, he’d only just discovered he even had a daughter, and this Christmas, he was worrying about her having her heart broken by a boy. What the fuck happened to enjoying watching her grow up slowly?
“Who’s ready for dessert?” Savannah asked.
A collective groan came from the adults, while Marisol and José shouted, “Cookies!” Buñuelos!” at the same time.
Savannah had baked mouthwatering Mexican wedding cookies, which he’d sampled last night and again this morning. And Rosa fried out-of-this-world buñuelos using Mamá’s iron rosette. This had to be the best Christmas he could remember in a long time, mainly because the Orlandos were all together, including Marisol, whom a judge had legally given the surname in September. And, of course, the love of his life, Savannah.
Savannah laughed. “Kids—and boys—they’re on a tray over there. Help yourselves. We adults will hold off until later and let the meal settle first.”
But as soon as the meal was over and the conversation had died down, his first priority would be getting Savannah into that chair for a nice, long massage.
“Robert, why don’t we take a walk around the neighborhood with them?” Clearly, Rosa had overheard them, too, and found a way to chaperone Marisol without seeming to be doing so.
“Thanks, Sis,” he whispered, leaning toward her.
She smiled back at him, speaking in a lowered voice, too. “Just wait. It only gets harder.”
Man, he was going to have his hands full protecting Marisol over the next twenty or thirty years. Fuck, who was he kidding? The rest of her life.
Chapter Thirty-Five
On New Year’s Eve, Damián surprised Savannah with dinner at a trendy local restaurant she’d told him about months ago. With the university on break, it seemed a good time to try it and avoid the noisy crowds.
Damián lifted his water glass, and she did the same. “To George Gentry’s never seeing more than an hour of sunshine a day for the rest of his sorry life.”
“Hear, hear!” Both took a sip. He’d prefer toasting with a beer but didn’t want to partake if she couldn’t join in with a glass of her favorite wine. The baby would be here in less than a month, if born by his or her due date.
In addition to welcoming in the New Year, tonight they celebrated the much welcome call from the DA two days ago telling them the judge had given Gentry the maximum sentence for each of his convictions. They’d tried to keep talk of the trial away from Marisol, and with her being off school all week, this was the first chance they’d had to talk about it.
“As much as I would have hated to put you through more, bebé, I wish we could’ve seen the look on his face when the sentence was handed down.” He probably thought his privileged status would get him off.
“The DA said he kept scanning the gallery as if he thought we would show up any minute. And that he was screaming obscenities at the jury as he was led away in handcuffs.” Savannah beamed. “That would have been priceless to see.”
Damián nodded.
“Even though he’s technically eligible for parole someday, I don’t think he’ll outlive two consecutive twenty-five to life sentences plus ten more years for the murders, much less the twenty additional years tacked on for kidnapping and abusing me. He might have made a pact with the devil decades ago, but I doubt he’ll live to be a hundred and fifty.”
Savannah had a glow about her that conveyed how much peace the news had given her.
“You hardly moved an eyelid while you slept last night.” He’d watched her half the night to make sure he could pull her out of a nightmare or PTSD episode quickly, much like Dad used to do with him when he first moved to Denver.
“Knowing he’ll never come near us again is the best way to start the year.”
After taking a sip, they continued to dine on the Mediterranean fare. Not his favorite cuisine, but tonight was about pleasing his wife. Besides, he’d get to eat what he really wanted later tonight.
“What are you grinning about?” she asked.
Leaning toward her across the table, he whispered, “All the things I’m going to do to your pussy when I get you home.”
Her intake of breath told him his words had caught her by surprise, but then she smiled. “I’d ask you to tell me about them, but I know you like to both surprise and embarrass me, so I’ll just let my imagination fill in the blanks.”
“Not embarrass, bebé,” he said, grinning. “Challenge social norms, maybe. But I can’t control what embarrasses you.”
A blush crept into her cheeks, visible even in the candlelight. Even this conversation seemed to have that effect on her. Dios, he loved her like mad.
They both passed on dessert, and he settled the bill quickly with cash. Standing, he held out his hand to her. “Let’s go home.”
As they made their way into the house after dinner, he couldn’t help but notice a bounce in her step. And why not? A huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders—his, too. He’d never known Savannah when Gentry wasn’t a threat to her safety and wellbeing.
Please let her be at peace the rest of her life.
Damián followed Savannah up the stairs, his eyes fixed on her sashaying ass. He’d been hard for days—okay, weeks. The moratorium on sex had been lifted by the doctor at her check-up yesterday.
Finally!
Marisol had been at Rosa’s all day and was excited to ring in the New Year with José and Teresa. The only bells Damián wanted to ring were Savannah’s. From the touches and looks she’d given him at dinner, Savannah was ready, too.
At the top of the stairs, he moved ahead of her and took her hand as he led her into the bedroom.
“Where should we start?” Savannah asked. He didn’t detect any hesitancy whatsoever. “The bed? Massage chair? Shower?”
Damián turned her around to face the bed, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her ass against his erection. “We’ll get to all of those places and more, savita, before the New Year arrives, but I’ve been waiting all week to get back to where we left off in the kitchen on Christmas Day.” He nuzzled her neck, and she moaned, pressing into his body in surrender. Working his lips from her earlobe to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he planted kisses on her sweet-smelling skin.
“Oh, yes!”
One of his hands moved up to pinch her nipple, and her hips jerked against him. His other hand lowered to her pussy but was hampered by her pants. Time to take this to the next level. He pulled away with a mix of reluctance and anticipation. “Strip for me, querida.”
Savannah took a step toward the bed before turning to face him. The sultry smile she gave him almost made him lean forward and yank her clothes off on his own, but he controlled his libido, knowing how much hotter it would be watching her slowly unbutton her blouse.
Her bra came into view as she slipped her blouse off her arms to puddle at her feet, and he’d waited long enough. He closed the gap between them to unhook the clasps. Sliding it down her arms, he stared at her swollen, darkened nipples and areolae. Even their shape had changed to better accommodate the baby in a month or so. But he didn’
t want to think about the baby right now.
“Lose the pants.”
She held onto the bedpost to steady herself and shimmied the stretch pants over her belly and down her legs. Leaning her hips against the mattress, she let him remove them the rest of the way. The only thing between him and her pussy… that thong. If he’d known she’d been wearing sexy underwear tonight, he’d have rid her of her slacks at the front door and watched her ass as they went up the stairs.
As if you needed them gone to picture her ass.
He slipped his hand between her legs and shoved the scrap of satin aside, no deterrent to his determination. Gliding his middle finger along her slit, he was met by her readiness. “So wet, bebé.”
“For you. Only for you.”
He slid one finger inside her then another, pumping in and out of her soaked pussy.
“Oh!” She closed her eyes and leaned back on her elbows, moaning. “Oh God, it feels good to have you touching me again.”
“Let’s get rid of this thong. And from now on, I want your pussy either bare or wearing a thong until I remove it or instruct you to do so. I’ve been turned on by you in one ever since our hypnosis play at the club on my Alive Day.” Sliding his fingers out of her, he helped her straighten up and clenched one ass cheek in each hand, squeezing before slapping her left one.
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice had become breathy. “Glad you like them. I feel sexier when I wear them, too.”
“An added bonus.” Hooking his thumbs in the sides of the thong, he grazed the sides of her hips and thighs as he rid her of the scrap of material. Stepping back, he stared down at her tits and mound and nearly lost it.
“So fucking beautiful.”
“Please let me help you undress, Sir, so I can have equal time.” She grazed her fingernails down his chest and over his abs, until she reached for his belt buckle and undid it.
Holding his hands at his sides, he gave himself over to her. Ignoring his shirt, she slowly slid the belt from its loops and tossed it on the bed. Next, she unbuttoned and unzipped him. His raging hard-on sprang out, having nothing to confine it, and she slid the pants off his hips, lowering herself with them until she knelt in front of him with his cock pointing at her face.
“Oh, what have we here?” She hadn’t been in such a playful mood in months. Dios, she was going to kill him tonight.
Hooking her thumbs through two belt loops, she slid his black jeans to below his knees and let them rest there while she took his erection into her hands. She didn’t use a lot of pressure. Instead, she skimmed her fingers and thumb softly up his shaft until she came to the plum head where she let her thumb glide back and forth in his precum. She didn’t even flinch at the wetness like she used to. Another trigger she’d conquered.
But he wanted to make it special for her first. He reached for her arms to lift her to her feet again, but she wouldn’t budge. Instead, she looked up at him and nearly made him come all over her face. “I’ve wanted to do this since Christmas, but you wouldn’t let me. I owe you a blowjob that comes from my heart.”
She didn’t have to say after the last one. He’d been reluctant to ask her for one. Honestly, even after their talk when he collared her. He’d hated what she’d done to herself.
“Please, Sir.”
How could he say no when she begged him like that?
Momentarily unable to speak past the lump in his throat, he helped her to her feet. Together, they removed his pants the rest of the way. Crossing to the bed, he grabbed his pillow and returned to drop it on the floor between them. “I won’t be able to enjoy you giving me head if I’m worrying about the pain in your knees.”
Her face broke out in a smile as he lowered her to the pillow. “Thank you, Sir.” Without hesitation, she wrapped her lips around his cock and flicked her tongue against the tip of his knob, lapping as more precum seeped against her tongue. Inch by inch, she drew him inside her warm mouth, grazing him with her teeth just enough to make his balls jump, either from excitement or fear.
She added her hand to pump the lower half of his shaft, simulating the feel of her tight pussy. It didn’t take any arm-twisting for him to relinquish any remaining control to her.
More vigorously, she bobbed up and down on his cock, each thrust taking him a little deeper. He grabbed her hair and wrapped it around his fists, setting a new pace for her. When she looked up at him and smiled a deliciously slutty smile, he almost blew his wad down her throat then and there.
My Princess Slut.
Time to slow this down. He didn’t want to be the first to come. He tried the slower pace, but she kept burying his dick farther down her throat. When he hit the back of it, he waited for her to pull off him, but she swallowed the head of his dick instead. Fucking swallowed it!
“Jesús!” Her throat squeezed him as tightly as her pussy would later tonight.
She stilled, holding him at the back of her throat and swallowed around him again. He remembered the last time she’d deep-throated him and was determined to pay attention to her responses better this time, hard as it might be.
Moaning as she released his shaft made him think she’d reached her limit. But then she cupped his balls and gave them a little squeeze. When his cock jerked, she took him even deeper. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to savor the moment a little longer. When his balls tightened, though, he tugged by her hair to ease her off of his dick. She’d brought him to the brink so fast. He had to remind himself they had all night.
“Ay, güey, savita! Your mouth—and throat, Dios!—are fucking amazing. But if I don’t stop you now, I’m not going to be able to bury myself inside you for at least another hour.”
He couldn’t miss her groan—sounded like disappointment—as he lifted her to her feet again. She brushed tears from her eyes. Concerned, he cupped her chin, searching her eyes. “Everything okay?”
She smiled. “I just need to work on my gag reflex some more. You said you wanted me to set some empowering resolutions for next year. Maybe that can be one of them, Sir.”
“Sounds like a plan, bebé.” He glanced over at the chair. “Why don’t we move this over there?”
He removed his shirt. At last, both of them were completely naked.
He took her hand and led her to the massage chair, grinning like a lovesick fool. “Let me help you into it.” Damián held her arms and torso steady as she bent over and took her seat like a queen ascending the throne. “Sink back into it.”
Once she seemed settled, he reached for the remote and turned on one of the settings he’d pre-programmed to focus on her ass and pussy. He’d been waiting to put the chair through its paces. He stepped back to assess her position.
Turning off the vibrations momentarily, he positioned her legs between the massage pads then tilted the chair back into the zero gravity setting. Doc Palmer had said it would be the safest angle to use, and he had programmed the preset already.
Her eyes opened wide in wonderment. “That’s amazing! I haven’t had the pressure off my lower back in forever.”
Now he wished he’d given her the chair as an early present, but that couldn’t be helped now. He spent the next twenty minutes or so showing her a number of settings for various massages and relaxation techniques the chair could help her with.
She looked sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, I know I’m supposed to be thinking about sex right now, but I can’t get over how good this thing feels.”
“I want you to enjoy a massage first. But if it’s sex you want, there’s a function for that, too.” He pulled out a rubber ball he’d stashed earlier in the chair’s side pocket. Unlike the one he’d used at the club, this one had its own vibrator inside, with a series of bumps on its surface for added friction. While this chair was a higher-end version of what the club had purchased—destined to be used more as far as non-sexual massage and relaxation—he expected the pressure on her clit to have similar results.
“Open for me, savita.”
She
did so, as far as the chair allowed, and he took two fingers of his other hand to spread her lower lips open and expose her clit. Positioning one of the ball’s soft bumps directly against her bundle of nerves, he turned on the vibrator.
“Oh. It won’t take much of that to get me off, Sir.”
Just you wait.
Damián set the function to medium, and the look of pleasure on her face told him he’d hit the right spots. After a minute or so, she sighed and closed her eyes, letting the sensations pulse throughout her body. Watching her enjoying herself made his chest swell with pride.
That wasn’t the only thing swelling. He took his cock in one hand and stroked it as he watched her. Too late, he remembered the recovered memory of her eighteenth birthday, but before he could release himself, she opened her eyes. They zeroed in on the hand stroking his cock, and he prepared for her to sink into a flashback or be triggered. Instead, she licked her lips.
Damián wasn’t finished demonstrating the chair, though. He turned the remote to full speed. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair, and she squirmed against the ball bouncing on her clit. “Yes! Oh God, yes!” She closed her eyes, and he watched her getting closer to the brink. When he dialed back the vibrator in the ball, she met his gaze. “Damián, you’ve outdone yourself this time. I might never want to leave this chair.”
“Oh, you’ll leave it if you want to enjoy that orgasm you’re working toward.” He paused for a beat to build up her hopes. “But you do not have permission to come yet.”
Somebody’s Perfect Page 33
