Page 52 of Vice
It’s not as simple as that, it never is, but I smile at her anyway. “Open your legs, Natalia.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. Open your legs.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
“Cade, we can’t. What if the camera is—”
“Under the table? You think it’s under the table?”
She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”
“Then it won’t be able to see what I’m going to do, will it?” I reason.
A second passes. Another three. Natalia is as still as stone while she thinks about my logic, and then she glances around, taking one last look, trying to find the camera she knows to be in here. She’s going to tell me no. She’s going to tell me not to be so fucking stupid. But then she opens her legs, sliding down in her seat, so that her knee finally does press up against my dick. I grunt, digging my fingers into her thigh. When I make eye contact with her, she looks a little startled.
“You’re very hard, Mr. America.”
I feign ignorance. “I am?” I still have my hand on her thigh. Moving my way upward, I don’t stop until my fingers are brushing the bottom of her skirt. She gasps as I slide them underneath the material, up, up, up, until I’m as far as I can go. To an outsider, it must look like I’m simply leaning across the table. Natalia’s the only one that knows I’m brushing the tip of my middle finger up and down the soft, silky material of her panties.
“Do it,” I whisper. “Open your legs all the way for me, Natalia. I need to make you come.” A shiver runs through her—one I can plainly see. The bare skin on her arms breaks out in goose bumps, despite the heat of the library.
“It’s a bad idea,” she says breathlessly. “What if someone finds us?”
“Then they’ll see that we’re talking and hopefully leave us the fuck alone.”
“Cade.” Her willpower is dissolving, though. I can feel the muscles in her thighs relaxing ever so slightly, every time I rub my finger over her clit through her panties.
“It’ll be worth it. I want to make you lose your fucking mind,” I whisper.
“I’m already losing my fucking mind.” She closes her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, her head begins to tip back.
“Stay with me. Look at me. You need to keep your eyes on me, Natalia. If someone does come in and you look like that, they’re definitely going to know what’s going on.”
She rolls her head back around, opening her eyes, but they have a glazed over quality to them, filled with lust, and I don’t think she’s focusing on much. “God, I…” She trails off, and I can feel how wet she’s getting through her underwear. Beyond wet. I know that when she finally gives in, allowing her legs to fall open, I’ll be able to slide her panties to one side and feel the warm, slick heat of her all over my fingers, and it’s going to drive me fucking crazy.
Applying a little more pressure, I rub my finger in a small circle, knowing exactly what she likes. Every woman is different, and Natalia prefers a firm touch. I know by the way her hips angle upward as I sweep my finger from left to right. I don’t have to wait much longer for her to give me what I want. Her knees part, and I push forward, hooking my finger beneath her underwear, and then I’m swearing under my breath as I find out exactly how turned on she is.
“Fuck, Natalia. Tell me not to fuck you right here,” I growl.
“I want you to,” she whispers. “I need you inside me so badly. Please.”
This is just her desire talking, though. We both know it’s impossible for me to take what I want…to give her what she just told me she needs. “Grind against me,” I command. “I want to feel your pussy on my fingers.”
Her lips part, and her back arches as she angles her hips again, rocking her pelvis so that she’s working with me to create a delicious friction between my hand and her clit.
“Shit,” she hisses, trying to close her eyes again. I was raised in a household, where, for right or wrong, a woman does not curse. I’ve spent many years with women in the military and in the club, and I’ve heard plenty of them swear like sailors, language colorful enough to make the air turn blue, but when Natalia utters this exclamation, a thrill of excitement powers through me. Her accent makes it hotter somehow, and her choice of word makes it seem as though she’s out of control. So hot. So intense. So fucking wild.
I want a repeat of our last encounter. I want to get her so wet, to free her from her inhibitions, and I want to be the one to claim her during that moment when the world falls away and nothing remains for her but her climax and the sound of her own heart slamming in her ears. Here, though, in this library, with its book stacks, and its deserted tables, and the tall, sweeping windows, overlooking Fernando’s prize fucking garden? It would be all the hotter in here, where we have no lock on the door and there’s a risk we might get caught.
This is a perilous thought. It’s not fucking a girl without a rubber and hoping she doesn’t get pregnant. Or that your dick doesn’t fall off afterwards. The consequences of getting caught here, with my fingers inside Natalia Villalobos, are beyond any of that. It would be the difference between life and death. But what a way to fucking go…
She rocks against my hand, working her hips, and I have to stop myself from sliding down from my seat and disappearing underneath the table, to use my tongue on her. It would be too much to taste her right now. Way, way, way too much. I’d lose my shit, and that would be it. Natalia would be laid out, flat on her back, in less than a heartbeat, and I’d be thrusting my dick inside her harder than she could probably bear.
She’d pant. She’d beg. She’d moan. Most importantly, she would scream, and I just can’t allow that to happen. She whimpers now, as I apply a little more pressure to her clit as I rub, and I give her a warning with my eyes.
