Bad Sons

Home > Other > Bad Sons > Page 7
Bad Sons Page 7

by Isla Cristeon


  That’s why I made sure to go maddeningly slow, infusing every touch and word with tenderness.

  After a beat, she tilts her head, turning her shoulders to look at me. “What did you say to me in Spanish? It … it did something to me. I felt energy in your words.”

  “La dueña de mi corazón.” My lips curve as I tuck a stray tendril of ebony hair behind her ear. “The owner of my heart.”

  A sweet smile spreads across her face, but just as quickly fades to sadness. “This is only for one night.”

  “You’ve owned my heart before this, and it’ll belong to you long after, Aida. You running away from me won’t change that.”

  Her eyes lower from mine. “Your shower is going to get cold.”

  “Our shower,” I say, then lean over and grab her ankles, before yanking her to the edge of the mattress. “We exploded on this bed.”

  Laughter bubbles from her as I toss her over my shoulder, then grip one of her buttcheeks in my hand while I walk to the bathroom. She wriggles, and I give a gentle slap to the thick curve of her bottom.

  Without a doubt, Aida has one of the most incredible bodies I’ve ever seen. Long, shapely legs, wide hips, thick butt, and a beautiful pair of tits to fill my hands. My dick stirs with the thoughts of what I’d like to do with her in the shower, but I’m aware she may be done for the night.

  Steam fills the bathroom with heat and moisture. Leaning forward, I lower Aida to standing. Her hands clasp in front of her as she stands on the marble tile, eyes flitting around in uncertainty.

  “You alright?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I just gotta pee.”

  “Don’t be shy.” I crack a smile as I move to the toilet then lift the seat and lean over, letting my stream loose.

  Our gazes stay locked.

  Amusement twitches on her lips as she lowers her eyes to watch me pee. “Please don’t poop in front of me next. That would really drop the attraction level way down here.”

  My attention drops to my penis, and I give a little shake to remove lingering drops. Returning my gaze to her, I grin. “That’ll come after like five years of marriage. That okay with you?”

  Her tiger eyes widen and an immediate blush rises up her neck. “I, ah … well, sure.” She blinks up at me, her forehead scrunched. “Or … huh?”

  I lean forward and press my lips to hers. “Go pee. We’ll talk in the shower.”

  Just before I step behind the frosted glass panel, I glance back at her, sudden worry rising that she’s going to run out of here and back to her room once I’m inside. In effect, I’ve just proposed to her while still married.

  Like a damn idiot.

  I swallow. “Don’t leave me, Aida, okay?”

  Her lips part and a gentle look enters her eyes. “I won’t leave you, Nando. Promise.”

  “Good, because I will run after you and bang on your door buck naked to get you back.”

  Her breasts jiggle as she exhales a short breath of laughter. “I’d actually love to see that.”

  Chuckling softly to myself, I step into the hot jetting water and then close the door. Even though the glass is nearly opaque, I can see her nude silhouette move to the toilet, her long dark hair cascading in curls down her back. I keep my eyes on her as I soap myself up.

  After wiping, Aida flushes the toilet then moves to the sink to wash her hands. The shower door cracks open, letting in a draft of cool air along with her sleek, feminine curves.

  I wrap my arms around her and pull under the spray with me.

  “Oh, God, it’s so hot,” she yelps, trying to pull away, but I keep my hold tight.

  She squirms, sliding her breasts over my slick ribcage and her smooth mons over my already stiffening dick.

  Quirking a smile, she nudges her hips against mine. “So soon?”

  I huff out a short laugh. “I’m twenty-five. I woulda kept going if you didn’t start crying. You’d be about four orgasms deep right now.”

  Aida’s gaze leaves mine and lowers to the shower wall. “I don’t work like that, Fernando,” she says softly. “I’m not one of those lucky women.”

  I drop my face to her neck and nip at her ear. “It’s about me having the patience to unlock you, figure out what you need, where you need it, how fast or slow you need it. It’s not luck. It’s skill.”

  “Aren’t you a cocky one?”

  “Someone say cock?” I nudge said object between the slippery skin of her upper thighs.

  Like a homing beacon, my tip breaches her silken folds. I just need to coax her thighs apart with my knee so I can plant myself within her, bury my soul inside hers. I want to tangle us together, so we can never be torn apart.

  I press my forehead to hers, locking our gazes. “After … after the first time in that hotel room when I thought I made love to you, I said something that I think you need to hear.”

  She blinks expectantly, waiting.

  I take a deep breath. “I said I won’t ask you to wait for me because you deserve better than to be second. But if I could change everything that happened, you, Aida Prospero, would be my first choice.”

  Emotion washes over her features and she turns her face away from mine, pressing her nose and lips to my chest.

  Her breath hitches as she inhales. “Damn you, Fernando,” she whispers.

  I wrap my arms around her back, holding her tightly as we lean against the quartz shower wall. My chin rests on the top of her head, and I close my eyes, enjoying the softness of her body against mine.

  For years now, in secret moments I’ve craved exactly this. Countless nights, Aida’s eyes and the memory of her scent wrapped me in nostalgic torment and bliss. When I returned from Virginia, I became a ghost, occupying space without being truly present.

  Even though I enjoyed marital relations with my wife, important parts of me felt empty. Shortly after Jewel’s memory returned, she found out the degree of my internal struggle. She asked Isabel for Aida’s contact information. As it turned out, when Aida ended her career as a sex worker, she deleted all her accounts. I couldn’t find her. Even Googling her name made it seem like she never existed.

  If it weren’t for Hero, I would have sunk into a deep depression. Having someone to love made the loss a degree more bearable.

  Now she’s here. And she wants me to let her go after this.

  Not happening.

  I tighten my fist around the end of her hair, and twirl my wrist to coil the drenched length around my hand. Her head tilts back with every rotation, exposing the smooth column of her throat. I latch my lips to the base of her neck, using my teeth and tongue to alternately apply pressure and soothe away the sting.

  Aida twitches and moans, tightening her hands into fists against my chest. “You’re gonna leave a hickey, Fernando. My dad’s gonna know.”

  I lick a trail from her shoulder to her ear. “Maybe he'll think it’s from Abram,” I say testily.

  The throaty sound of her laughter echoes off the bathroom walls.

  I release my fist around her hair and drop to my knees, smoothing my hands over the lush curves of her hips. My eyes hungrily drop between her thighs, imagining pressing my forehead to her lower belly and snaking my tongue into her heat. I want to fill myself with her scent and taste.

  For now, I refrain.

  I cup her breasts in my palms and rub my thumbs over the tips, keeping my eyes on her to gauge her response.

  Her lashes flutter shut and she groans softly, minutely arching her hips forward. I angle her body and press her back to sit on the stone bench. She complies without question, her eyes flickering alive with eagerness.

  Still kneeling between her legs, I lean forward, my abdomen meeting the warmth of her center. I remain overtly aware of the entrance leading to the innermost sanctum of her body, letting her give me the signal when she’s ready. Aida deserves to be worshipped and adored, every part of her held in the greatest reverence.

  Our lips meet with gentleness, and her arms encircle my neck as she sof
tens under me. We kiss for a long time, the heat of the water cascading down our lower bodies. When she begins to rotate her hips in circles against me, I know she’s ready for more.

  “Tell me what you want,” I whisper against her lips.

  I want to give her a voice. Aida needs to know she can ask me for anything. I won’t withhold.

  “You.”

  “You have me, amor. All of me. Be more specific.”

  “Touch my … my tits.”

  Gladly.

  Pressing my teeth into my lower lip, I return my hands to her breasts. Her back arches as she sighs in pleasure.

  “What now, Aida? What do you like?”

  “Lick them, suck on them.” She pants heavily, eyes closed and chin turned up.

  Bending forward, I graze my top lip then my bottom over the stiffened peak of her breast, but when I raise my eyes to her, I wait for her to meet my gaze. Eyes screwed tightly shut, she threads her hands into my hair, tugging me close.

  I squeeze her hips to pull her attention down to me. “Look at me. Watch how I adore you.”

  Her eyes crack open, heavy lidded with arousal, and I open my mouth to her nipple. She moans as my lips close around it and my tongue slides along the length. I lave both nipples alternately until her hips convulse with need against me.

  “I want you now, Fernando,” she gasps.

  My tongue flicks the turgid tip. “Specify.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. Say it. ‘Make love to me, Fernando.’”

  A groan of agony wrings from her throat as she tosses her head side to side. “Stick it in.”

  I move my hand to her center, rubbing my palm against her to ease some of the ache. “Better?”

  “You. I want you.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Make … make love to me, Fernando.”

  Fastening my free hand to the back of her neck, I pull my hips forward and slightly broach her entrance, just enough to let her feel the promise of fullness. Her head drops back as her eyes squeeze shut.

  “Watch, Aida,” I say, my heart thumping out of control. “Watch us make love.”

  Her gaze returns to me, our eyes locking for a moment before her eyes lower to where we connect.

  “Good. Don’t look away.”

  Gripping my hand behind her neck, I bring my hips forward an inch, before withdrawing and leaving her empty. She makes a low, agitated sound as her inner walls clench around nothing. Her tongue grazes her full lower lip, but her attention stays fixated on us. I plunge a bit deeper the next time, and her eyelids flutter like hummingbird wings.

  My arms tremble with the agonizingly slow pace I set, but I’m drawing this out for her pleasure, letting sensation and emotion build until she overflows with it.

  The sight of Aida balanced on the edge of the seat, with her legs spread, lips parted, and amber eyes willingly drinking in every second of our lovemaking has me near boiling.

  I withdraw again, and then bury myself completely inside her, my buttocks tightly clenched to hold myself still as ecstasy washes over my brain. Aida sobs out a gasp.

  Fingers reach for my chin, and then she pulls my mouth to hers.

  “Kiss me,” she moans against my lips.

  My mouth latches onto hers, hot and greedy. Her labored breaths mingle with mine, filling the cavernous space in my head reserved for her. Every touch of her hands, I imprint within, and each time her smooth nails score into my triceps, I add a pebble to the scale, tipping my heart into her hands.

  It’s yours now. Take care of it.

  My eyes close as our mouths mate with a ferocious fervor that belies the steady rhythm of our joining. Her tongue strokes against mine, and my lips tug on each of hers. Aida’s hips tilt faster to meet me, and I match her thrust for thrust. Every time I drag over her G-spot, her insides clench even tighter around me.

  “You’re going to come again, Aida,” I say with ragged breaths. “Show me how it feels.”

  Everything tightens and tightens, and then her body seems to fully relax just before her muscles ripple around me. The start of her orgasm signals me to release mine. Our voices mingle in gasping moans, echoing a holy chorus within the stone walls of an imagined cathedral.

  My soul bleeds from my body and empties into hers as I chant her name like an incantation meant to bind her to me. A code of dashes and dots tap from my heart that can only translate to I love you. I love you.

  “I love you,” I whisper against her neck.

  Aida trembles in my arms and then goes still. I breathe unsteadily, silently cursing myself for letting the hasty words slip.

  I know she heard me. I know she doesn’t believe me.

  After a minute passes, I lift my face away from her, seeing her eyes dewy, lit with emotion and uncertainty. Her hands reach to cradle my face and I follow her pull, pressing my lips to hers.

  I’m still so hard for her, and experimentally flex within to see if she can handle any more.

  Her mouth opens against mine, and I swallow her affirmative moan before I pick up the rhythm. I lean back, her breasts bobbing as I pump shallow strokes, so I can see the full beauty of her release. It rises much faster, and her eyes widen in surprise just before the orgasm washes over her. It spreads like sunrise, a shade of pink rising up her chest, neck, and finally flushing on her cheeks. Her mouth opens as low, humming moans transform into long, heaving ahh’s that match every pulsating undulation of her inner walls.

  The orgasm recedes, but I don’t stop, keeping my aim where I feel the thickened speed bump marking her G-spot, ferociously grinding into it.

  “Fernando,” she grunts helplessly. “No ... I can’t. I can’t.”

  Three more thrusts … and she does.

  She throws her head back, releasing a banshee like wail from deep within her belly, clenching so hard around me I can barely move.

  Aida slumps against the stone wall, limp and sucking in ragged breaths. I withdraw from her body, and she moans, convulsing as the head of my penis slides over her sensitive bundle of nerves on the way out.

  Her eyes open briefly, then flutter closed again. “Sheez … Cries,” she mumbles.

  Jesus Christ.

  I grin at her attempt to speak as I stand, then reach for a fresh washcloth. Once I lather the cloth with a bar of soap, I crouch at her feet and begin washing. I move to her legs, then rinse and lather, before lifting each arm to scrub underneath.

  A faint smile flits across her face as a soft giggle rumbles from her throat.

  “Think you can stand?” I ask.

  “After that, I could fly,” she murmurs.

  I finish washing her bottom, then rinse sticky remnants of my release from between her legs.

  “Go get in bed,” I whisper, then angle her to exit the shower.

  She casts one shy look over her shoulder, then wraps a towel around herself before stumbling out of the bathroom.

  Within two minutes, I rewash my body then turn off the shower. Eager to return to her, I rapidly scrub the towel over my dripping hair, then wrap it around my hips.

  Upon leaving the bathroom, I’m greeted by the sight of Aida pulling on her pajama shorts. Even though I wasn’t exactly expecting her to spend the entire night with me, a sense of dismay floods my heart as I watch her scramble to leave.

  I carefully compose my features. “Taking off already?”

  She nods wordlessly then tugs on her top. Like a frightened deer, her eyes frantically scan the floor then she reaches down and grabs her room key. Her beauty stabs me with actual pain. The pink in her cheeks that I put there, the languid, sated look in her eyes, and those perfect breasts I was hoping to be smothered between as I fall asleep.

  My words catch in my throat, but I force them out. “Don’t go.”

  I sound like a whiny, overly attached child.

  Aida swallows and moves toward the doorway. “This was a mistake.”

  My eyes widen. “No. Don’t say that.”

  Her jaw
clenches. “We’re not in bed anymore, Fernando. You don’t get to order me around.”

  “I didn’t … it’s not like that.”

  Sudden anxiety slams into me as I see something akin to terror in her eyes. Somewhere within the two minutes she was alone, she realized I’ve breached her walls, moved past her only protection. She’s trying to push me away, and like a caged lioness backed into a corner, she’ll willfully hurt me to escape.

  I’d do anything for her. And right now, she needs me to let her go.

  Raising my hands to soothe her inner cornered animal, I move back. Her eyes flash in defiance as she takes a step toward the bedroom door.

  “I won’t stop you, Aida. And I won’t force you to be with me. But I meant everything I said, and if you choose to be with me—”

  “I won’t,” she says between clenched teeth.

  I ignore the pain she’s hurling like a flaming boulder in my direction, knowing she’s only projecting the chaos she’s feeling, and finish my thought. “... I swear I’ll cherish you every day.”

  Tears gather in her eyes, but with them, anger like a raging tempest. She points a finger. “Just because you gave me a good fucking doesn’t mean I’ll follow you around like a pet.”

  I cross my arms, tightening my fists to control my trembling hands. “I didn’t fuck you. I made love to you.”

  “Same thing,” she scoffs.

  Without another word, she walks away. I trail behind, watching as she grabs the handle leading to the hallway.

  When she pulls the door open, she turns around, glancing back at me. My heart leaps, but all she does is lock her glassy eyes on mine, then her eyebrows crumple as she shoves her knuckles against her lips, shaking her head.

  The door closes softly behind her retreating form, and the space seems emptier than ever before.

  Chapter 9

  ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I cry and ache for him. This feeling of madness hurts. Between my legs, the reminder of him throbs like a living thing.

  I’ve never been touched like Fernando touched me. I never knew a short word, composed of three simple letters, could be so potent. Sex. I knew it held power, that which I’d long wielded, but had never truly felt its power over me.

 

‹ Prev