Page 29 of Under His Sheets
“Thank goodness for streaming services and satellite radio, then.”
I wondered something. I wondered a lot of things, but I asked, “Do you play? Like your father and Felip?”
He shook his head and looked down at his hand, which he’d rested on my shin.
“No. That is their thing. I preferred to be outside as a kid. I love music, but I wanted to do my own thing. When Felip went into the service, he couldn’t wait to be done so he could go off to university in America. I spent a lot of time talking to Papa about his time in the military. I liked the idea of helping people, and I was not fond of school.”
I scooted over to the wall and patted the bed next to me, hoping he would join me. He did, stretching out on his back with his ankles crossed and his arms behind his head. “I was in the last group of mandatory service before the Spanish government ended the practice. Tomás and I are barely a year apart so we went together. And then I stayed on for the next twelve years. I liked it. I’m technically in what you would call the reserves, but I’ve been called up frequently the past few years.”
“So you’re…in your thirties?”
He chuckled. “Sí. Thirty-seven last month.”
Ten years and a whole lifetime separated us. Would that bother him?
I turned on my side with my left arm propping my head up. I took a chance and placed my right hand on his chest, with onlymy fingers under the open fabric. He closed his eyes and settled into my touch.
“It’s a huge sacrifice, serving in the military.”
He frowned with his eyes closed. “I don’t think so, not for me. It is a place to belong, someplace I can be myself but also be invisible if I want to.”
“Invisible?”
“Mm. The only expectations of me are that I do my job. There’s something freeing about that.”
“And is that all you want?” I asked, sliding my fingers under his shirt, grazing his hardened nipple, making him hiss.His gaze shot to mine.
“Not anymore.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear and I leaned down to kiss him. Immediately his hand went to my face, cradling my jaw so gently. Always with such care.
I wanted to show him the same level of care.
I pushed the sides of his shirt away. “This okay?”
“Sí.”
Just as I’d hoped. I bent and planted a kiss in the middle of his chest. The tattoo was a black and gray collection of images that covered his left pec. It resembled some sort of crest, or maybe his military insignia. I’d have to ask or look it up. Later.
I couldn’t believe we were here, under his sheets, in his childhood bed, with his whole family slumbering elsewhere on the grounds, and I was granted the permission to touch him. To kiss him. Actions spoke louder than words, and even though I still didn’t fully understand what was happening outside of this moment, the way he’d been with his family, the way he took care of me told me all I needed to know about him.
He was a good man. And he cared for me.
It was my turn to appreciate him.
I kissed and licked his torso as he played with my hair. He remained still but for the twitches and involuntary muscle movements I took to mean he was enjoying himself. The only sound he made was his breathing, the amount of control he showed as I brought his skin to goose bumps was admirable. I’d have been moaning and thrashing, but Alonso held it in. I knew, though, that he was enjoying my touch. His lips were open, his face relaxed, and as I unfastened his slacks, his breath caught. He brought a shaky hand to help me slide them down enough to give me access.
Underneath the slacks he wore the softest black trunks. I rubbed my lips and nose over his groin, inhaling his musk, feeling the heat from his very hard cock. I nibbled over the cotton, mouthing his dick through the fabric until he swore.
“Quiero tu boca,” he whispered. “Necesito tus labios, tu lengua, tus dientes. Por favor, amor.”
Alonso had spoken to me more tonight than he had since I’d met him, and for once, I had no problem understanding his Spanish. Mouth, lips, tongue, and teeth. Yes, I would use them all on him. Gladly.
I got to my knees to pull his pants and trunks off all the way. I wanted him free to move. I wanted to be between his thighs. I loved giving head, always had, but Alonso himself was such a gift, and I intended to give him that care he deserved.
“You want this? Can I play?”
“Sí,” he groaned softly.
