19. Dino
19
DINO
I’ve never been this honest.
I’m not a fuckin’ liar, by any stretch, but right now is the first time ever that I’ve actually told the entirety of the truth that’s been sitting in my chest.
Marisol makes me want to pull my heart out, so she can hold it. I think it might be safer with her.
That’s a fuckin’ terrifying fact. But with Marisol, I want to be so much more than who I am. I want to be good. I want to be someone that she can see herself with. She’s mine, whether she knows it or not.
But if she loved me? I couldn’t hope for something as good.
I am, however, trying to get to a place where she at least tolerates me. Where she can see a future together.
Where she won’t fuckin’ leave me.
So I’m doing something new. I’m giving her a little bit of myself, which I wouldn’t normally even think about .
But for Marisol?
I want to be better than I am.
She’s so close. If I lean forward any more, I can take her lips.
The thought sends blood straight to my cock.
The rain on my skin is fucking icy cold, but I think I might be radiating it off of me in steam, because right now Marisol is making me feel like I’m on fucking fire.
I want to kiss her.
If I was just being myself, I’d fucking kiss her and never think a fucking thing about it.
But I want her to want this.
I’m fucking desperate for her to want me, and it makes me feel…
Scared.
She breathes, her eyes wide, her breath sweet. “Dino…”
“I know,” I growl. “I want us to fuckin’ get to know each other. Like you asked.”
“It’s sweet,” she murmurs.
I fuckin’ hope it is.
“You’re being very sweet,” she whispers. One of her hands skates up and slowly tunnels into my hair.
“God damn it, Marisol,” I groan, letting her nails scratch against my scalp. I arch backwards, trying to get her to do it harder.
When she does, I can’t help the moan that escapes me.
It feels so fucking good.
“It’s nice when you’re sweet,” she murmurs.
Good. This is fuckin’ hard.
“But I like it even more when you're not, I think.”
Her nails dig in just a little harder.
Hard enough for me to look down at her.
She’s biting her lip, but I can’t mistake the lust in her eyes.
It sets me on fire.
I dive down, my lips catching hers in a fierce kiss. She tastes like rain and Marisol, and it sends a shuddering gasp through me. Running my fingers up into her hair, I tug her head back, drinking in the moan that she gives me like it’s the last ounce of water in a desert.
She tastes so fucking good. I can’t believe that she’s here.
That she’s mine.
Her fingers tug at the hem of my shirt, and I pull it up.
Marisol’s nails skate over my torso, and I flex against her fingers. Her fingertips linger against the tattoos there…
And the scars.
Suddenly, I’m weirdly self-conscious of them. I’m not a fuckin’ baby. I have scars, and I haven’t given them one fuckin’ thought since I got ‘em.
I just need them to be sewn up. Healed. Then I don’t give a shit about them.
Or, I didn’t… until now .
Does Marisol think that I’m some kind of fuckin’ weirdo? Or that I’m weak because I’ve been hurt so many times? Or…
All of my thoughts come to a screaming halt when she presses her lips against the long scar from a knife fight that cuts diagonally across my torso. It runs from the bottom of my left pec to my right hip. I have it covered with an array of tattoos, but you can still see it underneath.
Her tongue traces the line of it, and when she descends to have her face at my hips, I think I might fuckin’ explode.
She bites at my hip bone.
“Fuck me,” I bite out. I lean down and scoop her up, because if she gets any closer to my cock, I’m going to come like a fuckin’ teenager. Dragging Marisol up to meet my mouth, I pull her lips to mine and crush her into a kiss.
Her legs wrap around me.
I want to fuck her so badly, it’s taking every ounce of my self-control to not.
“Dino,” she whispers when she breaks the kiss and pulls back. “I need you.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
“I… we…”
I can’t fuck her here.
We’re in the middle of her father’s garden. Someone could walk up on us at any time. We wouldn’t hear it because of the fucking rain .
But I can give her something.
I turn and gently set her down on the bench that’s slightly covered by the wooden structure. I kneel in front of her, staring up at her as I do.
Marisol’s eyes are wild and frantic. Her chest heaves, and the rain has glued her dress to her breasts.
I bite back another curse, because I want nothing more than to play with her pretty nipples where they’re poking through the fabric.
But, I have something else in mind.
“I want to taste you,” I manage to grunt. My hands push her dress up, until it’s at her waist.
Marisol’s eyes widen. “Dino…”
“You’re the only person I’ll ever fucking kneel for, Marisol,” I say through clenched teeth. “The only person I’ll get on my knees for. If I have to fucking beg you for this, I fucking will. Let me taste you, so you can come apart and I can remember what you taste like when you come.”
She pants, and opens her legs.
“Good girl,” I breathe. My hands come back down her hips, dragging her cotton panties down with my fingertips as I go.
She parts her legs wider, and I put them over my shoulders.
My first taste of her is like heaven. She tastes like sweet rain water and Marisol, and I can’t fucking believe that I’m lucky enough to call her mine.
She’s fucking mine, no matter what.
After tonight ?
She better fucking know it.
Marisol’s moans drive me fucking insane. I lap at her, using my tongue to move the bud of her pleasure around, and she writhes against my face.
I want her to come.
Hard.
Now.
I slowly press two fingers inside of her, the squeeze of her making my cock twitch. I want to be inside her more than anything but…
More than that, I want her to come. I pull back, my fingers still pumping in and out of her. “When you come, you can’t scream, Marisol.”
Dazed, she looks down at me.
“You have to be quiet. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Slowly, she nods.
“Good.”
I return to her, another finger joining my other two, and bite at her clit.
Hard.
Come for me, baby.
I don’t have to say it out loud.
Marisol lets out a moan, and I feel her squeeze around my fingers. She shudders, her legs kicking into my back, and I grin as moisture that tastes like Marisol and nothing like rain hits my tongue .
God damn. She’s a fucking drug.
I don’t want to let her go.
“Dino?”
Her voice catches my attention. I look up at her, my eyes tracing slowly up her body.
She’s looking down at me, her eyebrows pinched together.
“I… Can I touch you?”
Fuck me.
I pull my fingers from her slowly, pocketing her panties. Gently, I tug the dress down her hips, and I come to sit on the cement bench next to her.
Marisol bites her lip and looks at my lap, where my erection is obviously tenting my pants.
“Marisol…” I start.
I should tell her no. That I don’t need her to touch me. That I don’t want her to.
But that would be a fucking lie.
And I’m not a fucking liar.
So when she presses her fingers gently to the outside of my pants, I don’t do anything other than groan.
“Let me make you feel good,” Marisol murmurs. Her eyes flick up to mine, and she gives me a small smile.
“I want to touch you,” she repeats.
I never said I was a good man. Never fuckin’ once .
So instead of telling her no, that I was fine with letting her come apart for me, I let her fingers tug at my button. I let her unzip me.
And I just groan when Marisol takes my cock out and holds it in her beautiful fuckin’ fingers.