Chapter 8
Jorge
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“That better?” Destinyasks fifteen minutes later as she strokes her fingers over the back of my neck. The massage did wonders for my shoulders but I couldn’t pull my mind from the memory of our brief, interrupted kiss and how she fit perfectly against me. The pleasure-pain of my hard dick pressing against the zipper of my jeans makes me fidget. Of course, she notices my new discomfort and her hands move forward and down the front of my shirt.
Leaning close to my ear, she gathers my shirt in her fists and whispers, “I can help with that, too.”
A flash of panic tightens my voice. “Destiny, no.”
She backs away then circles the couch and sits so close she might as well be on my lap. The idea has merit. I shouldn’t—can’t—do this. My attempt at easing away is blocked by the arm of the couch. “No? Come on, Chavez. After today, you need to relax. Think of this as just a friend helping another friend out of an, uh, uncomfortable situation.”
Her fingers dance with the perfect pressure over my straining cock. I’m unable to stifle my groan and with a rough, breathless chuckle, she dips her fingers under the waistband of my jeans to pop open the button. Before I can catch my breath she’s tugged down the zipper and shoved my boxers aside.
“Oh, you’re beautiful,” she whispers, taking me in her hand. In a smooth move, she’s kneeling between my knees, softly stroking the head as my foreskin pulls back. With her free hand, she tugs at my jeans.
Giving in to the sensations, I lift my hips and she fully exposes me to her heated gaze. My breath stalls as I wait for her next words, half hoping my uncircumcised dick will turn her away, dreading the thought it might.
“Yes, beautiful,” she murmurs before swiping her tongue along the length and gently over the now fully exposed head. “And tasty.”
“Desss...” Her name morphs to a deep groan as she focuses on my cock. The flawless pressures. Long licks and rapid flicks of her tongue. It’s as though she instinctively knows the best ways to heighten my pleasure. Releasing my grip on the furniture, I spear my fingers through her hair then fist the length at the back of her head.
At my tug, she lifts her heavy gaze and smiles. The sight of her lips moving against my cock carries me to the edge of restraint. “Destiny, I’m gonna... if you don’t want...”
Holding my gaze, she gives her head a minute shake, and winks. She doesn’t take me deep, instead pressing her lips tight where the head meets my shaft, driving my pleasure even higher. Her tongue teases the underside of the head as she gently rolls my balls in her hand.
Her lips vibrate with her low humming. Fighting the need to thrust into her hot mouth, my sharp grunts signal my release. Her eyes close and she smiles as she swirls her tongue around the head of my pulsing cock and increases the vibrations of her hum until I’m drained. With a soft kiss, she eases away to cradle my length between her cheek and her palm.
I let my hands slip from her hair and rest my head against the back of the couch to stare at the ceiling. Dios mio. Where the fuck did she learn to do that? My sensitive dick rubs against her cheek with each of her short, harsh breaths. I lower my gaze and watch her a long moment. Eyes closed, she’s caught her lip between her teeth. She’s still pressing her cheek to me with one hand and the gentle rocking of her body creates a new friction.
A tiny moan escapes and she bites harder on her lip. The temptation to replace her teeth with mine lifts my head. One of her shoulders moves, a counterpoint to her rocking. I follow the slope of her arm to where her hand disappears between her thighs, and under her stretchy leggings.
I know what I have to do. Want to do. “Destiny. Open your eyes and look at me.”
She moans, releases my dick, and shakes her head.
I deepen my voice to reinforce my demand. “Yes. Look at me.”
After a shaky breath, her heavy lids lift slowly. Her pupils are huge, dark, sparkling with need. “Chavez,” she sighs.
“Give me your hand.” I sit up and hold out my hand to her. She hesitates then rests the palm of her free hand against mine. “No, Des. Your other hand.”
Bright pink fills her cheeks before she drops her gaze and shakes her head.
“Listen to me, Destiny. Give me your hand and look at me. Now.”
I’m about ready to reinforce my command one final time when her head lifts and with a tiny shimmy, she exposes her hand. Her fingers glisten and her eyes follow the movement of my tongue when I lick my lips at the tempting sight. After a slight hesitation, she curls her wet fingers against my palm.
It’s all I can do to keep from groaning when I lift her hand to my nose to inhale the essence of her arousal. I trace the tip of my tongue over her fingertips and her eyes grow wide. When I suck on two of her fingers she gasps and leans closer, her soft body trapped between my thighs.
She is dangerous for me and I am so fucked. My dick twitches in agreement. I tell myself no. I won’t go that far. But fool around some? Heavy petting? Nothing more. Too much depends on keeping—
“Chavez,” she moans.
“Yes, azúcar?”
“I want... want...”
“You want to come, don’t you?”
Biting her lip again—the sight is going to kill me—she nods.
“And you don’t want to do it alone. You want me to take care of that pretty pussy of yours.”
I take a few long, slow licks of the sweet honey covering her fingers. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”
She meets my gaze with no hesitation. “I want you to make me come.”
I remain silently licking her palm.
“Please, Chavez. Please make me come.”
No man in his right mind could refuse her pouting lips and direct request. With little encouragement she crawls onto my lap, trapping my dick against her lush ass. “Put your arms around my neck, azúcar.”
When she’s settled with her cheek resting against my shoulder, I use both hands to shove her leggings and skimpy panties to her knees. I long to kiss her and explore her mouth but know that would take us too far. I’ll return the favor and give her the release she needs. Nothing more.
Loving the soft cushion of hair when I cup her mound, I stroke one finger along her seam, each stroke deeper until I find the source of her slick arousal and draw it up to coat the tight bundle of nerves. Then I play. I stroke, circle, flick, learning how she likes to be touched. Discovering the pressures and taps that reward me with her loudest moans.
She moves her hands to my chest and I freeze. Even when she wiggles, my fingers remain still. “Chavez?”
“Clasp your hands at the back of my neck, Destiny. If you let go...” I leave my threat hanging.
“You’re mean. I want to touch you, too.”
“You asked me nicely to make you come. Do as I say, and I promise you...”
“Bastard.” The word has no force. She tickles my neck as she clasps her hands together. “Please.”
Wrapping one arm over her legs, I spread her thighs as far as her leggings allow then dip the tip of one finger into her. She sighs and arches so I add a second finger in a slow plunge and retreat then draw her moisture up to her clit. When I curl my fingers against her inner walls, she cries out.
Soon whispered pants of “Please. Please,” burst against my neck. Keeping my thumb moving against her clit while I finger fuck her, I discover the perfect combination of inner and outer strokes. The flow of her slick heat coats my hand, easing the way for my thrusting fingers.
Her release begins with a low keen, rising in pitch as I play. Her body stiffens against mine, she digs her fingers into my scalp. Pulls my hair. Bites hard on my shoulder. As her cry fades to sighs, I continue my strokes. We aren’t done yet. I’m not done yet.
I move all my attention to her clit and earn my reward in less than a minute when she throws her head back and her throat vibrates with a silent scream. Dios, she’s so responsive.
“That’s it, azúcar.” Soothing my hands up and down her back, I draw her into a tight embrace. “That’s my girl.”
I refuse to allow guilt to sully this moment. But this peace, this sense of comfortable rightness won’t last. It never does. So I endure the renewed throb of my needy cock and when she’s recovered I help her straighten her clothing. Her avid gaze follows every movement when I stand and stuff my stiff length under my boxers. I pull up but don’t attempt to zip my jeans.
The tip of her tongue traces her bottom lip. “Stay with me tonight?”
“No.”
“Chavez...”
“Azúcar, you know why I can’t. We never should have done...” I wave my hand to indicate both of us and the couch. “...this.”
After a lengthy silence, she finally asks, “What does azúcar mean?”
The tips of my ears burn. The endearment had slipped past my lips without thought. And more than once. No way I can talk my way out of this one so I give her the literal meaning. “Sugar.”
The delightful tilt of her head and her soft “Aww” provide the perfect angle and invitation to shower her with kisses. Once again I deny myself the pleasure. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
There’s a gentle understanding in her soft frown that makes my chest ache. “Good night, Chavez.”
She follows me to the door and wraps her hand over mine on the knob. “I’m going to unlock my side of the adjoining doors between our bedrooms. In case... in case you change your mind.”
As she backs away her hand slips from mine leaving a trail of heat and goosebumps. Flexing my fingers, I don’t dare look at her. “Sleep well, Des.”
In my suite, I stride into the bedroom and hover beside the locked door. Straining to hear, I recognize the turn of the lock. She opens the door and her muffled voice penetrates to my soul. “I’m here, Jorge. When you change your mind.”