Chapter 34
thirty-four
Mateo
“Holy fuck,” I let slip as she kisses my crown. The touch of her soft lips sends tingles up my spine. She trails her hands over my thighs, then slips one between my legs and cradles my nuts.
This is unbelievable. There’s no chance in hell this is happening. Right here. Right now.
Tensing to quell the need to thrust my hips, I press a palm against the wall and grasp the shower curtain rod. I’m trying my damndest to not rip the fucking thing down. If this isn’t a hallucination, I don’t want to have to fix it later.
I move my hand to the wall in front of me, my arms spread in an L shape. The pink tiles are cold against my hands, so maybe this is, in fact, actually happening.
She rolls her tongue over the ridge and under the head, then flattens it and licks up my length along the vein as she continues to massage my balls. There are so many sensations all at once, I’m weightless.
“Fuck,” I grunt out as she teases me with her exploration.
With needy little hums, her long licks make it virtually impossible to think straight. But through the haze, I remember that I should check in.
“You good with this, gorgeous girl? I wasn’t trying to…”
She pulls back, taking my breath with her.
Expecting this to be the end, I look down at her. I need her to know she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to. Ever.
Before I can continue, though, she gives me big doe eyes, though the expression quickly morphs into something far more playful and brattier.
She flutters her lashes as she works my length with one hand. Her strokes are slow and firm, keeping me on the edge.
“What?” I gasp out.
“Would you prefer something more like…” she says, then changes the direction her tongue swirls around the head of my cock.
All while maintaining the pressure-filled strokes against my shaft.
The hand that’s been massaging the boys moves to my thigh.
Her nails bite into the skin, the pin pricks causing the tension in my body to ramp up again.
Spine tingling, I focus on breathing. My balls tighten.
My abs tighten. Hell, everything tightens.
The tension coils and intensifies until I’m chasing the release she’s promising me.
Remembering her comment about choking and gagging, I keep from touching her, from grabbing her hair like my instincts beg me to do.
As my vision goes spotty, I shudder out a breath.
“Move,” I say. “I’m going to come on those perfect tits.”
She pulls back with a pop, grinning up at me.
“I’m going to make you orgasm until you can’t walk for a fucking week.”
I don’t have time to enjoy her surprised expression before the waves of my release paint her chest.
Heaving out harsh breaths, I pull her to her feet, kiss her hard, then massage her tits under the spray until I can’t stand the wait anymore.
I tug on one nipple with my teeth, then do the same to the other. “I’ve been letting you call the shots. I knew you. Had to build trust. In me.”
My sentences are choppy between kisses and nips at her ample curves.
“It’s so fucking sexy, the way you know yourself. You make me wild. I’ll give you anything. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
I pause my rambling gratitude to furiously leave kisses all over her face.
“Shopping trips, vacations, a full ride for three more doctorate programs? Name it. It’s yours, gorgeous.”
The words escape in a rush, but also, I can’t get them to her fast enough. She needs to know that I understand the gravity of what she just did, even if I don’t understand why she did it.
“Slow down, mister. What did you say?”
I shake my head, nearly motorboating her.
With one more nip at her breast, I move so we’re eye to eye and keep my expression serious. I have to prove I can pull this off, she has to believe me. I need her to continue to trust me, because I’ve been nothing but honest with her.
“I said that you can have anything you want. I want you to keep the car.”
I wait and count to three. Then ten.
It’s creeping up toward fifteen when she finally replies.
“Hand me my shampoo. You have something in your hair,” she says, reaching upward attempting to touch my scalp.
The sweet citrus scent I associate with her overtakes me, but her balance is still shaky. Watching her stand on her toes is causing me to worry that maybe she’ll be the one who slips.
“Let’s switch. I don’t think this is going to work otherwise,” I instruct her while removing her hands from where they linger near my nape.
Tossing my head under the spray, I quickly rinse my hair.
I squirt body wash onto a ballet pink loofa and lather it up, then start at her neck and shoulders.
When they’re thoroughly clean, I pull her to me and run the loofah over her back, guiding the suds along her spine and the dip of her hips and ass.
With a kiss to her neck, I spin her, pressing her back to my chest, and get to work on her front, beginning at the soft patch of trimmed dark blond curls.
She flinches, the move reminding me of Satan’s full nickname. Satan’s Bikini Waxer.
“Also, no man should have any opinion on how you maintain any of this. His only thought should be ‘holy shit, she let me near those perfect pink lips and soft curls.’”
She relaxes instantly, her body sinking into mine, and I feel about ten feet tall. Fuck, yes. I love seeing her so at ease.
I return to my task, my hands roving up and down her body, washing over her stomach and chest with care.
Finally satisfied that I’ve cleaned any mess I made, I nibble at her neck making the most ridiculous noises, like she’s my favorite dessert.
The laugh that escapes her is a reward in itself, musical and sweet.
This is a layer of Nessa I hadn’t expected to be granted access to.
This is the part of her I never want to lose.
I detach the removable shower head and move it in a circular motion, rinsing away the remaining suds.
With each revolution, I bring the spray lower.
Eventually, I get it where I want it, using the water to massage her clit, and she sighs, her knees wobbling.
With my free hand, I massage her heavy breasts and pinch her nipples as the water pounds against her.
I bring my lips to her neck, peppering kisses, adding in a nip of my teeth here and there.
Those sighs turn into moans, and as they grow louder, I tug on her earlobe.
“Please come for me, gorgeous,” I beg, knowing she gets off on being in control.
“I’ll hold you up while you let go. Give me the sounds of your release.
Then I’ll carry you to your bed and give you as many orgasms as you can take.
Hell, I’ll watch you take them for yourself. I want to feel you go boneless.”
At that, she gives in, head falling back onto my chest, her nails digging into my forearm as she grasps for dear life.
“Fuck, Mateo. Oh my god, hold me tighter,” she cries.
I obey, palming her breast more firmly, keeping her body pressed to mine.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” I growl as I come alive, my erection thickening against her ass for a second time.
“Fuck, I’m going to…” she pants.
“Please, baby. Please,” I encourage her.
She shakes against me, her legs are barely supporting her. When she slumps, spent, I sweep her into my arms and kiss her forehead. I turn off the water, wrap her in a towel, and place her gently on the counter next to the sink.
Once I’ve dried off and secured my towel at my waist, I pick her up again and stride to her bedroom. Inside, I kick the door shut quietly.
I lay her out in front of me and make a meal of her. I take my time bringing her to orgasm on my tongue, thrusting my fingers deep inside her warm, slick center and curling upward. “Can you give me one more, little monster?”
On a whimper she shakes her head, her hands clutching the sheets. “I need you inside me.”
The world shifts. We’re hanging on the edge of something completely new. I hear those three words in my head, but it’s not the time for them, so I grab a condom from her drawer beside the bed.
“I don’t think I can move my legs,” she whines with the cutest little flush as I lie on my side.
“Are you all done for tonight?” I really hope she isn’t, but I’ll deal, if that’s the case.
In answer, she parts her thighs. I don’t know what to do with this sign of trust, but as I slide home, I let the words I was trying to control come out in a way she can’t understand. Maybe saying it this way can quell the urge to admit that I am madly in love with this little spitfire.
“Mahal kita.” I let the Tagalog words fall from my lips. It’s strange to hear them in this moment, and yet exactly right.
Though she doesn’t know the language, her core muscles tense in response, like she understands on some instinctual level.
Before long, I quicken my pace and angle my pelvis to rub against that bundle of nerves to increase her pleasure. We’re sighing and breathing together through stifled screams until release hits us both.
Sleep hits hard and heavy. I’m surrounded by vanilla and citrus and something all Nessa.
Maybe this can actually work. And I can’t help but hope that it’ll be even better than I planned.