by Alyse Zaftig
Then I felt her muscles going wild around me as she panted.
Her breasts were on display when she threw her head back and sang for me a second time.
I grunted as I released inside of her perfect body.
I pulled her down so that her head was on my chest, our bodies still connected. I gently stroked the smooth skin of her back and nibbled her shoulder.
“I think that you half-killed me that time.”
“I think that’s my line,” I said, smiling even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re insatiable.”
I could feel her body wiggling on top of mine as she laughed, and it made my body want to go again.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Happy.”
I stroked her back again as I felt her relax a little. She was sleepy. I should let her rest.
Rolling her to her side and then flipping her around, I put my arm over her waist.
“Sleep,” I commanded.
I felt her yawn and then she was still, breathing deeply.
I loved having her in my bed. I wished that every day was like this.
I didn’t want to leave her, but that thought spurred me into action. What I was about to do was far more impulsive than I normally was, but she’d been shocked and horrified by Alejandro’s drug use. I knew, after dating all the women who would worm their way into my life for the money, power, and drugs, that she’d never ask for any of that. She had no clue what I could give her.
She only wanted me, and I wanted her.
So I had an errand to run. I left her there, sleeping in my bed, where I wanted to keep her forever.
Marriage Proposal
Naelle
When I woke up, the bed was cold.
“How do you feel?” His voice was coming from somewhere in front of me.
I stretched.
“Sore. I blame you.” I hadn’t opened my eyes.
“Open your eyes, cari,” Emilio said gently.
I looked at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed.
I stared at the box in his hands.
“Are you serious?”
“That’s not a very flattering reaction.”
When he smiled, his dimples appeared, tempting me to say yes.
What would it be like to wake up next to him every morning for the rest of my life?
Pretty great, I thought. I wanted to say yes, even though we barely knew each other. I knew that I loved him, even if he was often demanding and bossy.
But there was a snag.
“You haven’t even met my family. I’ve met yours, but you would have to go back to America to meet them.”
“No problem. We can just take my jet.”
“You think that we can take off now?”
“Of course.” He shook his head. “Do you think that I couldn’t fix things? Are you surprised?”
I smiled back at him. “No, I’m not surprised.”
I stared at the ring. “I’ll say yes...”
Suddenly he was kissing me deeply, his tongue pushing into my mouth.
I pushed him back after 20 seconds.
“I wasn’t done.”
“Hm? Isn’t yes enough?” He went in for another kiss, but I put my hand on his chest and looked him right in the eye.
“On one condition.”
He took a step back and arched an eyebrow.
“And what is that?”
“You have to come back to America to meet my family before we’re really engaged.”
“Will you wear the ring now?”
The ring was pretty much every fantasy that I’d ever had. The main jewel was an emerald, not a blood diamond.
“Yes.”
He took the ring out of the box and put it on my finger.
Then he was sweeping me into his arms to kiss me.
We were making out for a while, our tongues twining together as if we were teenagers for whom kissing was the ultimate. When I regained awareness of my surroundings, I was naked on my back under him, my thighs on either side of his body.
“I’m so happy,” he told me as he kissed his way down my body.
My thighs were on either side of his face.
I was very nervous when guys went down on me. I didn’t like it. I had a soft stomach and pretty big thighs.
But he didn’t seem to be turned off by any of that. His hands were pushing my thighs far apart as his tongue painted pure fire at my most intimate place.
My eyes closed. I felt like my whole body was turning into a puddle of molten gold.
“Oh...” I said.
Then his hands stopped pushing my thighs apart. I was wondering where he was going before one hand went to rub my clit while his tongue pushed inside of my entrance.
I went wild, bucking like crazy, fluttering around him. He kept rubbing me as I shook my way through an orgasm.
When I could speak again, I said, “That was the most intense orgasm I’ve had in my life.”
“Just one of many, future Señora Emilio.” He nuzzled my softness again.
“I don’t think I can go again,” I said. I was still out of breath and all trembly from the first orgasm.
In response, his hand began rubbing my clit. And my motor went roaring back to life.
“Are you sure? Do you want this?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want it.”
This time, he put two fingers inside of my channel, pushing me apart.
When he was inside, he crooked his fingers so that he stroked my g-spot.
I was wetter than I had ever been in my whole life. I felt like there was a spigot or something inside of me. I was sure that the sheets were wet beneath me. He pulled his fingers out.
Suddenly, he was flipping my body so that I was butt up, face down.
He arranged me so that I was on my stomach, my knees under me.
He pulled apart my opening as he guided himself inside.
I knew that I was sweating from the heat inside of me, like I was burning up with the best kind of fever.
My jaw dropped as he entered me. It wasn’t our first time, but his size totally overwhelmed me. I could barely fit around him.
He began to surge slowly into me, going deep before pulling out.
I hugged the pillow in front of me. My fists were clenched, holding the sheets tight. I could barely stand the intensity.
Then his hand went around my neck. He wasn’t choking me. He was pressing his thumb and forefinger on opposite sides of my throat.
Before I could even think about what he was doing, he was pulling my whole body backwards every time that he thrust.
The feeling of being pulled back onto him was enough to push me right over the edge. I was shuddering beneath him when I heard him shout.
And then he was flooding me with his seed. I loved the warmth.
When he was done, he pulled out of me and turned me on my side. He came and spooned me from behind.
His large hand slowly made its way from my waist to the juncture of my thighs.
I waited breathlessly as he went straight for my clit again. The pleasure this time was nearly painful. The small orgasm in the aftermath of our passion exhausted me totally.
I fell asleep like that, held safely by Emilio as I slipped into dreamland.
Coffee
Naelle
When I woke up, I opened my eyes to see that Emilio was fully dressed. I could smell coffee.
“Wake up, sweetheart.”
I turned to look at the window. It was still dark outside.
“What? Come back to bed.”
He came over and kissed me.
“As much as I would like to get tangled up with you again, you set a condition for your acceptance of my proposal. We’re going to fulfill it now.”
I sat up and his gaze immediately went to my breasts. I blushed and reached for a sheet to cover up. I guessed that if we were married, I’d have to get used to be being naked around him, but I wasn’t used to it at the moment.
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“We’re going back to America?”
“Yes. This is all of your luggage, right? You have your passport with you.”
“Of course.” I didn’t go anywhere without it.
“Then we can get going.”
“I’m sticky,” I protested. “And I have to get dressed.” And I should probably tame my hair, if I wanted to go out in public.
“I’ll wash you,” he said, his eyes blazing. Without warning, he pulled me out of bed, one arm beneath my knees and the other under my back.
I squealed as he brought me into the bathroom. He slipped me into the tub and turned on the water. After he put a bunch of soap on a loofah, he began drawing big soapy circles on me. I wondered if he had ever washed anybody else before, because he didn’t seem to be very experienced at it. He was only washing part of me.
“Be careful,” I warned. “You might get wet.”
He put the loofah down at the side. He took off his clothes as if they were rags and not ultra-expensive custom-made Savile Row couture.
“Not a problem,” he said smugly.
He climbed into the tub and reached for me. I slid into his arms in the soapy water and kissed him lightly.
He didn’t seem to be satisfied by the light brush of our lips. His hand was in my wet hair holding me in place as he ravished my mouth.
With a groan, he ripped our mouths apart.
“We don’t have time for this. I promise, we’ll have more time in the jet.”
He bit the side of my neck savagely, and my body jerked against his as I moaned in pleasure.
He put soap on his hand and headed straight between my thighs, delving inside of me.
I screamed as he quickly stimulated me into an orgasm that I didn’t expect. My back arched backward and my head tilted back as I panted hard.
While I regained sanity, he briskly rubbed the rest of my body with the loofah.
“Clean. I scheduled take-off for an hour from now.”
“You realize that my hair is an absolute mess right now? Do you have any idea how long it takes to dry?”
“We’ll just wrap it up. No problem.”
He had all the answers. He turned on the shower attachment and rinsed both of us off.
I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself up in one of the fluffy towels. He dried off and then tied his towel around his waist, snagging his clothes before going back into the bedroom. I dug around for the hairdryer and stared at it hopelessly. If we were taking off so soon, I didn’t really have time to properly blow-dry my hair.
I did the best I could in a few minutes, then I tied it up in a simple bun. I was embarrassed to do such a sloppy job, but he was rushing me, and I still had to pack up.
I went back into the bedroom, where there was a red dress waiting on the bed with a scarf sitting next to it.
“I already packed for you. Get dressed.”
I looked at the suitcases waiting next to the door.
I didn’t know if I liked how bossy he was, but I supposed that he was used to being in charge. He worked very fast. I’d told him that I wanted to go home right before we…well…eventually ended up going to sleep. And here he was, with my things already packed and a jet ready to go.
I put on my dress and tied the scarf around my hair.
“Did you pack my makeup bag?”
“The silver one? Yes.”
“But I need to put on makeup! I can’t go out in public like this.” My mother would faint if I went outside with my face bare. When I turned 12, she had given me a full makeup kit from MAC and told me never to come downstairs without makeup on again.
He quickly crossed the room and bent me backwards as he kissed me so hard that I nearly fell over.
“You look luscious,” he told me. “Totally perfect. We need to get on the plane.”
Then his hand was in mine and he was opening the door. Someone else must be getting our suitcases to the plane.
We walked out to his car, where his driver was idling.
“Ready, sir?” he asked in Spanish.
“Ready.”
He kept his hand in mine as we drove through the empty streets of Quito. It was hushed and quiet at this hour, not the noisy mass of humanity that it normally was.
I was still half asleep when the car stopped at the private hangar of the new Quito airport.
He pulled me gently into the plane. Breakfast was waiting, and I looked out the window, unable to see any Ecuadorian officials trying to prevent us from taking off this time. I was grateful that I wouldn’t be arrested and handcuffed again.
I wasn’t very hungry. I reached gratefully for the steaming mug of good Ecuadorian coffee and drained it.
“Strap yourself in,” he said.
I might not like taking orders normally, but it was definitely helpful when my brain was this foggy. It was too early in the morning for me to function normally. At this hour, it would be a miracle if I could brush my own teeth.
I clicked the buckle. He took my hand.
“We’re ready,” he called to the pilots. I could hear the murmur of a radio as they communicated with the air control tower.
Then we were taxiing on the runway. I squeezed his hand a little. I wasn’t a bad flier, but we were in a pretty little jet and I felt us tilt backwards. It was a lot more obvious when we were in a small aircraft than it would be in a commercial airliner.
“We’ll be fine,” he soothed. “Do you want some whiskey?”
“Is it a good idea to get drunk at this altitude?”
“Bottoms up.”
He poured us each a little bit of whiskey from a bottle that was in a small, ice filled container at the side of the plane.
I drank it. It helped a little bit with my nerves.
He put a gentle hand on my cheek and pulled me towards his shoulder.
“Sleep. By the time that you wake up, we’ll be back in America.”
I yawned and closed my eyes. He felt so solid. I knew that it was irrational, but I felt like he could save me somehow if anything happened to the plane. I slept on his shoulder.
Home in DC
Naelle
I was gently jolted when the airplane landed at Reagan.
I looked at Emilio, who was sleeping, his head turned in an unnatural position. He was going to have a sore neck.
“Hey,” I said, shaking his shoulder.
His eyes suddenly opened and looked straight into mine. He was rigid for a moment before taking my hand and kissing my engagement ring.
“Are you happy to be home in the United States? Would you prefer to live here or in Ecuador?”
“A little bit of A, a little bit of B.”
I kissed the corner of his mouth. He had perfect lips. I traced them with the tip of my tongue before he grabbed the back of my head and slid his own tongue into my mouth.
The plane stopped moving.
“We better stop before we give the pilots a show.”
He bit my ear, then he let go of me.
“Come on.”
We got out of the plane. The sun was extremely bright.
“Did you order a car or are we going to take an Uber home?”
“I got a car. Well, my assistant did.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“I didn’t even notice you contacting your assistant.”
“My jet is fitted with Internet access, so I just sent her a message. She took care of it.”
I shook my head. It was as if fairies magically arranged his life to be completely perfect.
“It’s a security concern,” he said, shrugging.
“Security?”
“Just sensible security measures while outside of the country.”
I didn’t understand why he had to be afraid in America, but whatever.
“I can’t wait until you meet my parents. I’m sure my dad is going to be all alpha and tough, but they’ll love you.”
“If they’re anything like you, I’ll love them.”
&nb
sp; I loved the glow in his eyes.
“I’ll take you home,” I said. It was a vastly different experience from getting on his jet and getting ready to go back to America this time. He was my actual fiancé now, and my mother would be over the moon.
I’d ignored her emails, but she knew that I was safe. Dad wouldn’t let his little girl be in real danger. I might’ve been on a different continent, but he always kept an eye on me. It was surprising that Emilio had been able to bundle me into a plane so quickly, but now that I thought about it, my dad could’ve had something to say about me getting into a private jet with someone that he hadn’t had time to vet. He had no way to know where we were going, unless somehow he’d been able to access the filed flight plans. But why would he stop me from coming home with Emilio?
Overabundance of caution, I guessed. The pilot easily could’ve done an emergency landing somewhere else. Dad wouldn’t have liked that.
I was glad to be home. Ecuador had been a strange adventure — I’d meant to stay longer, but here I was, back home again.
I was quiet as I looked out the windows at lots of cars going lots of places, all in a rush. The Ecuadorian way was so different from the American one.
The car eventually came to a stop.
“How did you know where I lived?”
Emilio just shrugged.
“My assistant took care of it.”
It was a bit weird, but I let it pass.
We got out of the car. I went up to the door of my townhouse and opened my purse, searching for my keys. I normally used them on a daily basis, now they were probably at the bottom.
When the door opened, my dad was standing there. He stepped to the side to let me in.
“Hi, Daddy!” I said. Both of us walked inside.
To my horror, I saw him draw his fist back.
Meeting Naelle’s Father
Emilio
Naelle’s father’s fist hit my face, and I twisted to the side to avoid as much force as I could.
He kept advancing as I blocked all of his strikes. He had good training, yes, but so did I.
He had the advantage here, because he wanted to hurt me and I couldn’t hurt him. Everything that I did was defensive.
