Page 93 of Death

“You good with me touching you?” he asks.

I nod quickly, the anticipation in my abdomen becoming a living force of its own.

“Verbal consent,mi pequeño sol.”

I keep nodding as I whisper, “Yes.”

His eyes remain locked on mine as he pushes his hands beneath the fabric, and when I feel his fingers brush over my most private part, my lips part and my hips lift. It feels as if I’ve waited my whole life for this moment, and I realize I need this more than my next breath.

I need Santiago to touch every inch of my body and make me his.

“Please,” I whimper.

“I’ve got you,mi amor,” he murmurs, his tone filled with love, then he cups me, and the expression on his face morphs into one of pure awe.

His middle finger moves feather-light over my slit, then he parts me. I grab hold of his tattooed arm right by my head, where he’s still bracing his hand on the armrest. My eyes are held prisoner by his, and my hips lift again when he circles my clit.

Slowly, his movements speed up, then his finger pushes into my opening, and my head tilts back, my eyes falling shut from the pleasure he’s making me feel.

“Eyes open and on me.” The order rumbles from his chest, and I do as I’m told.

Santiago begins to rub me harder and harder, and soon, my hips are gyrating, and breaths explode over my lips.

He keeps making the tension build and build in my abdomen, then just like the other night, the ecstasy strikes suddenly with incredible force.

My lips part, but no sound escapes as every muscle in my body locks into place. This time there are no moans and whimpers spilling from me, because I can’t even suck in a breath. As the pleasure vibrates through me, Santiago continues to rub me into oblivion. Somehow, he knows exactly how hard to touch me and when to ease up, and it has me convulsing beneath him.

It feels like minutes pass, and as the last of the pleasure ripples through me, he says, “Breathe,mi amor.”

I suck in a breath then tears spiral over my temples, and I turn my face into his arm.

He pulls his hand from my pants, and moving my body, he lies down and positions me partially on top of him. He wraps an arm tightly around me and presses kisses all over my hair and my forehead.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his other hand moving up and down my side and hip.

Suddenly, I’m filled with an urgent need, and sitting up, I take hold of my shirt and pull it over my head. I unhook my bra and drop it on the floor before I lie down again, my skin touching his.

I swear my soul sighs at the relief I feel, then Santiago pushes me onto my back again. “You need me to touch you everywhere,mi sol?”

I nod, and when his hands grip my breasts, a sob bursts from me, and I keep nodding. He ducks his head then sucks myleft nipple into his mouth. For the longest time, he caresses and kisses my breasts, then his palms rub hard over my stomach and abdomen, and taking hold of my pants, he drags the fabric down my legs.

Lying on the couch, my eyes are locked on his as he touches every inch of my body, and when he gets to my ankles, he presses tender kisses to the scars.

I’ve never felt so loved in my life. There’s nothing sexual about this experience, and it feels as if he’s cleaning my body in a way I’ve never been able to.

Everything calms down inside me again, and Santiago notices. He crawls up my body and lies down on top of me, then just stares into my eyes.

With a tender expression softening his features, he asks, “Better?”

I wrap my arms around him. “Much better.”

“Good.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “You are fucking beautiful.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “And all mine.”

In every way but one.

SANTIAGO

As soon as I’m sure Ciara’s fast asleep, I quietly get out of bed and leave the bedroom. I pull the door shut and head for the stairs.

---