Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sylvia
I’m just finishing laying the table for breakfast when Mateo appears.
We worked together earlier to get the doors to the east hallways closed off and with the storm surge receding enough to pull the water out of the house, things feel almost normal. Thank goodness for the old island estate, built to withstand these storms and drain water when needed.
He managed to save my clothes and shoes from my mom’s room last night, something I was very grateful for this morning. Getting dressed in my own clothes brings a level of comfort I need right now.
We’ve still got at least a few hours before any boat captain will risk the crossing, and they’ll be lucky to find one willing to work on Christmas morning.
When the family and staff arrive, I’m hoping the crisis of the fallen tree and house full of debris will overshadow the fact that Mateo and I have been here, alone, for so long.
I’m grateful for the time, and for our apparent reconciliation, but the situation is far from settled. The conversations we still need to have are going to be difficult, but I’m hopeful that we’ll be able to figure things out. To be together at last.
I’m nervous about what will happen when his father finds out I went back on our agreement, but less terrified now that I have Mateo on my side.
I should have contacted him right away. Of course he would have helped me.
I’m trying to forgive myself at the same time I’m coming to terms with this enormous life change—it’s a lot to handle at once.
“Morning,” Mateo crosses the kitchen and pulls me into his arms for an embrace that lasts a deliciously long moment.
It feels so good, so right, I melt into his heat and inhale the scent of him. “Morning. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, love. You’ve been busy, I see,” he says, stepping back to admire the spread I’ve laid out for our holiday meal.
I smile bashfully. I couldn’t cook anything, but I sliced fruit and layed out pastries the cook prepared the previous morning. “I just got excited. It’s the first real Christmas I’ve had in a while.”
“For me, too.”
I look up from the place setting and cock my head at him. “What do you mean?” I know from stories my mother told me that the estate still puts on the big holiday celebration every year. She hadn’t mentioned Mateo, of course, but I just assumed she wanted to spare my feelings.
“It wasn’t the same without you. Christmas was always our day. The last few years I’ve signed up for holiday rotations in the clinic and stayed in Chicago.”
The thought of him spending Christmas alone breaks my heart, but then I remember it’s how I’ve spent the last eight years as well.
We could have been together if I'd only been brave enough to reach out. My gaze falls as I try once again to hold back a rush of emotion and the tears that come with it.
Mateo is at my side in an instant, pulling me close. “No, no. No more sadness. Not anymore. It’s been a long few years for us both, but we have each other now. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I want to believe him, but the old fear, the fear that’s protected me and my mother for years, still sits in the back of my mind.
When I glance out the dining room window, however, I decide to set those worries aside for now.
The rain has lightened up, but it’s still falling, and the wind makes it crash against the picture window.
“I know you just set the table in here, but I’ve got the curtains open to the ocean view in the living room. It’s pretty spectacular with the dark skies. Want to take our plates in there?”
I smile up at him and nod. It’s how we spent every Christmas morning since I first came to this house with my mother.
The adults would all either be working to set the meal, or eating in the dining room, but us kids were allowed to eat around the Christmas tree in the living room.
The mountain of presents in there were never for me, but I still enjoyed the magic of shaking boxes and dreaming about what could be inside with the other kids.
Mateo wasn’t kidding about the view. The dramatic grays and purples of the storm clouds contrasting with the bright spots where the sun is trying to peek through, all framed by thrashing palms in the enormous picture window.
The Christmas tree looks just as I remembered it, albeit with less gifts underneath now that all the kids have grown up and moved out. We can’t turn the lights on, but we still settle on the sofa closest to the glittering tree and pretend.
Snuggled up next to him on the sofa, all thoughts of breakfast quickly fall away. I can eat anytime, but to have Mateo here in my arms? This is the only sustenance I need to survive.
“You know, Matty…” I start, feeling a bit bashful about what I’m about to say. “You told me last night that I could taste you. But you never let me.”
A playful smile tugs up the corners of his lips as he sets his own plate aside. “I made you wait all this time, did I?”
I nod, trying to play serious and offer him a little pout. It’s insane to be instigating something like this here, so close to the front door, where anyone could walk in and see us.
Well, if it wasn't for the foot of water outside.
Mateo stands and pulls me into his arms. “Here’s a little taste.”
His lips press against mine and I push up to my tiptoes to get more of the kiss. I open for him and he rushes in, his hand holding firmly on my lower back.
I pull away and lock eyes with him. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
Mateo laughs and scoops me up like a baby, tossing me over his shoulder. “Oh, really? My kisses aren’t enough for you, huh?” His voice is filled with laughter and it sets my heart free.
It really feels like we’re going to make it. Like everything’s going to be okay.
I squeal and squirm, laughing uncontrollable as he slaps my ass and plops me down to sit on the sofa. When I look up, however, the dark desire in his eyes makes my breath catch.
How many years have I been imagining him looking at me like that again? How many nights have I lain awake dreaming of being able to touch him?
For that sad, lonely girl, who never thought she’d ever get this opportunity, I reach out and grasp Mateo by the belt loops, pulling him close.
His eyes aren’t the only place where desire is evident—the outline of his erection greets me as the seam of his jeans connects with my lips.
I open my mouth and bite down gently on the bulge.
Mateo growls his approval and I look up at him from under my lashes.
“You’re in charge,” he says, setting me free.
I slide down to my knees and unhook his belt, slipping down the zipper of his pants. When I pull down the elastic of his boxer briefs, his cock jumps out and hits his stomach with a soft slap.
I laugh and take it in both hands. “Who’s eager now, huh?”
“You have no idea, kitty,” he whispers as he winds both hands into my hair.
When my tongue touches down gently on his tip and glides down his long shaft, his hands clench into fists, holding my head tightly in place. I could free myself, demand that he give back the control he just told me was mine, but I don’t mind letting him guide me. Letting him use me.
As a matter of fact, I can’t imagine a better Christmas gift.
I slide him into my mouth and moan at the fullness he brings. The taste of him. The feeling of having him inside me once more. My hands grip his base as I slide him in and out, working him deeper and deeper with every thrust.
When I finally feel relaxed enough, I let my hands drop to his thighs and look up at him. Mateo’s evil grin spreads over his lips as he takes the hint.
He moves slowly at first, holding my head and rocking his hips, sliding his tip down my tongue and then back to my lips. I suck and nibble at him when I can, focusing on keeping my breathing calm when he’s too far back for me to do much else.
My heart pounds in anticipation of the moment I know is coming, the moment I worked up to with this very man in this very house.
As I feel his tip start to breach the top of my throat, I resist the natural urge to pull away and repeat the affirmation he gave me all those years ago silently in my own mind.
Good kitty…
My eyes swell with tears as he starts to pump a little faster, pressing the tip of his cock further down my throat and holding for just a second before sliding it back into my mouth. The next time, he presses it further and holds it just a bit longer.
Good Kitty…good kitty…good kitty…
The overwhelming feeling of his invasion starts to go to my head—and between my legs. I can feel the heat pooling there as his thrusts swing quickly from pleasure to the brink of pain.
“You’re doing so good, little kitty. Do you like taking my cock so deep?” Mateo coos at me in his dirty talking voice, the sound of it nearly pushing me over the edge just.
I nod and make a strangled noise of affirmation—the action makes him moan in pleasure.
“Fucking hell,” he groans, pumping faster, taking my throat harder.
There’s always an edge, right around this point, where I think I won’t be able to take it anymore. Where I think I’ll have to tap out by giving the signal on his thigh. I feel myself reaching that point and try to calm back down.
Good kitty.
Mateo must sense my agitation because he pulls his tip into my mouth and keeps it there for a few thrusts, allowing me to catch my breath. “Good kitty,” he whispers as he strokes his hand down my jaw in a tender caress.
But the hand doesn’t stop there.
I squeeze my eyes closed as his fingers descend to wrap around my neck. When he has a nice, firm grip, he offers a word of warning—and encouragement. “You’re doing so good, kitty. Are you ready to finish me off?”
As excited as I am to feel the heady rush of Mateo cutting off my airway as he pounds his orgasm into my throat, I'm also nervous.
Luckily—or unluckily, perhaps—I don’t get a chance to answer.