Page 47 of Love at First Ink

Until now.

Her heart pounded so hard, it felt like it might burst from her chest. A whirlwind of nerves and excitement tangled inside her, each battling for dominance. She twisted her hands together, the motion a subconscious attempt to release the anxious energy coiling within her. Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the movement until a pair of large, warm hands gently enveloped hers. Startled, she looked up.

Cisco—had he always been this close?—stared back at her. He brought her clasped hands to his lips and kissed her gently. “You look beautiful.”

His words were enough to pop the bubble of anxiety looming over her. A laugh burst free from her lips, slightly too high in pitch. “I just cried all over you. My eyes are puffy, and my makeup is fucked. I know I’m the furthest thing from beautiful, but you’re sweet for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.” He lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me.”

Years from now, someone, somewhere, would ask her about the moment she knew she had found her person. And her answer wouldn’t be a huge, grand gesture of love, or a romantic stroll through a park.

No, it would be the story of a bathroom, a lost cat, and far too many tears. And, of course, the man who had supported her all throughout the day, never once complaining.

This feeling was sudden and new. Powerful and fragile. She kept it close to her heart, not ready to dip her toes into the vast ocean of this emotion until she was certain he’d join her.

But she did kiss him.

Her body gravitated toward him, pulled along by an invisible string. They met in the middle, a clash of tongue and teeth. Cisco backed her up until Marisol’s ass hit the counter. Hooking his hands behind her thighs, he lifted her up onto it.

Cisco moved between her legs, and she had no choice but to open for him until she straddled his hips. Heat rushed to her core, and the lacy underwear she wore pulled tight in the center, creating friction. It was hot and felt so damn good, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed more.

Needed him.

Without thinking, her hands ran under his shirt, feeling the hardness of his muscles. This man was sin incarnate, detailingeach of her wildest fantasies. But even in her wildest fantasies, the men had never looked this good.

Cisco broke the kiss, causing Marisol to whimper embarrassingly. “Do you want my shirt off, Princesa?”

The heat in her eyes told her he wanted less clothing between them. That a swarm of emotion burned brightly inside him, but he was still checking on her. Making sure this was what she wanted. The normal doubt that plagued her mind when making decisions wasn’t there.

“I want it,” she said with certainty.

In one easy movement, he had his shirt off, tossing it to the ground. All of his tattoos were on display, stealing the breath from her lips. Not a single part of his torso was free of tattoos. A few decorated his hips then disappeared into his jeans. She wanted nothing more than to see where those went.

Sex had never been something she desired.

She definitely didn’t understand the thrill of it because Archie had left her less than satisfied on many occasions. She had thought she was the problem because it took a lot for her to climax. After all, Archie never seemed to have a problem orgasming. The only enjoyment she had gotten from it was when it was all over.

He certainly never soaked her panties like Cisco was currently doing.

“You want these off too, Princesa?” Cisco’s husky voice made her snap her attention up from his groin. She refused to be ashamed at staring at him like she wanted to eat him for dessert. Because, quite frankly, that was exactly what she wanted. He fingered the waistband of his jeans, toying with her.

In response, she took off her shirt, exposing her black bra. It wasn’t one of her sexiest or frilliest bras, but it did make herboobs look great and perky, so she couldn’t complain. Now it was his time to stare at her, lust in his expression. This was what it felt like to be desired…and it was a damn good feeling.

“Off,” she said, speaking with a new, growing confidence. “I want them off.”

Cisco never tore his eyes from hers. He undid his belt and then the button on his jeans. He took his sweet time pulling down his zipper, but it was worth it in the end. He dropped his jeans and stepped out of them. He wore only black silk boxers, and they did little to hide the erection he sported.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“A lot of tattoos, I know.” He chuckled.

Right. She was definitely talking about the tattoos decorating both of his legs, all the way up to his hips, and not the large cock he was hiding in those small boxers.

“Your turn, Princesa.” Cisco approached her, reaching for the waistband of her joggers. He waited, giving her time to put a stop to it if she wanted. But she didn’t want to stop. If she stopped now, her body would never forgive her.

She lifted her ass off the counter the best she could, and Cisco discarded her pants next to his shirt. His gaze went down to her very obviously wet panties, and a sly grin crossed his face. It shouldn’t be hot, but it only served to turn her on more.

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