Chapter 20
I spend more time in the shower than necessary, trying to convince myself that nothing will happen between me and Olívia, simply because there’s not a damn chance things between us will end well. Yet, with each moment together, she becomes more and more irresistible.
I really didn’t ask her to stay here with ulterior motives.
I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with Nina’s pace all day, and Olívia’s been with my daughter since early morning.
So there’s a big part of me that is considering her wellbeing.
But I’m honest enough to admit that I don’t want her to leave just yet.
I need my little firecracker nearby a bit longer.
The day was dreadful, and in the end, Mom seemed exhausted. I don’t know how much longer she’ll hold on. My mother is tireless in her care for my father, and every time I witness the love between them, I have hope of finding something similar one day.
After checking on my daughter one more time, as well as the functioning of the baby monitor, I carry it with me and head downstairs to the first floor.
Olívia didn’t take a shower or change clothes, but she took off her shoes and seems even smaller than she normally is.
She’s facing away, messing with something on the stove, and I can’t help but walk over there.
“What’s on the menu for today?” I don’t usually have a light-hearted demeanor, but I really need to learn how to relax. I don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps and have a stroke at fifty.
Still not looking at me, she picks up the pot containing some kind of thick brown cream and puts it on a plate. “Celebration brigadeiro.”
“Brigadeiro?” I repeat, testing the strange-sounding word.
“Yes. It’s the name of a Brazilian sweet.
There’s no translation into English. Mom and I tried to find one, but it was futile.
Despite being difficult to say, it sounds cute.
” She still hasn’t turned to look at me.
“On every special occasion in my life, Mom made celebration brigadeiro, and since you gave me the job, I haven’t celebrated yet, so I’m inviting you to share my favorite sweet with me, Guillermo. ”
After pouring the contents of the pot onto the plate, she turns to me. But her smile dies as she suddenly seems focused on my chest. My body temperature rises in seconds.
She leaves the pot on the counter but still holds the spoon covered in the sweet mixture.
“Can I try?” I ask, taking a few steps closer.
Her chest rises and falls quickly, and I’m pleased to know that I’m not the only one nervous about the proximity. “It’s still hot.”
“I don’t have a problem with heat, Olívia.”
She brings the spoon close to her lips and blows. When she thinks it’s cool enough, to my surprise, instead of offering me the sweet on the spoon, she runs a finger through it and stops in front of my mouth.
I know my next move will forever change things between us, but I’m desperate to taste her.
Holding her wrist, without breaking our gaze, I suck her finger. Not just the tip where the sweet is, but the whole thing.
She shivers and closes her eyes. Still holding her hand, I kiss her palm and then place it on my neck.
I pull her into my body and whisper in her ear, my mouth pressed against the lobe, “I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t resist.”
“Do what?”
“Kiss those delicious lips.” I pull back a little, and for a moment, I get lost in the deep blue of her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m ordinary.”
“You’re beautiful. My little firecracker.”
“Firecracker?”
“That was the impression I had of you that first day at the café.”
She smiles. “I want what you said . . . I do.”
“Say it.”
“Kiss me. I’ve been dreaming of you for several nights.”
And thus, she manages to shatter any coherent thought that might remain. Holding her face, I brush our lips together and pull her close by the nape of her neck. “You smell good, sweetheart. I could get addicted to your scent. To you entirely.”
“Guillermo . . .”
I slowly let my tongue invade her. I explore every bit of her warmth bit by bit. Warm and receptive. Captivated and demanding, pulling me towards her, trying to get what she needs.
Without stopping the kiss, I lift her up and sit her on the kitchen counter. Her dress rises, allowing me to fit between her legs.
I interrupt the kiss and let my hands wander over her thighs.
She doesn’t try to stop me, releasing delicious little moans. “Better than in fantasies.”
“You dreamed of me?”
“Yes.”
“And what was I doing in those dreams?”
She gives me a mischievous smile. “I don’t have the courage to say it out loud.”
“Can you show me?”
“Not yet. Can we just kiss a little more?”
I lean in again and move my hands up farther, touching not only her legs but also the small panties she’s wearing.
I test the waters, gently pressing my fingers against her thighs and part of her buttocks, while never taking my gaze from her. She licks her lower lip, and I bend down again to suck on her tongue.
I slide my fingers to the sides of her lingerie, and she moans.
“Tasty,” I remark.
Olívia wraps her legs around my waist, and now my fully hard cock is pressed against her sex, protected only by the thin fabric between us. I’m wearing sweatpants, so I can feel all the warmth of her body.
She squirms, rubbing, teasing, and I slide my thumb just far enough inside to reach her pubic hair. I only pass my finger over it lightly, waiting to see what she’ll do.
I feel her tense in my arms, her breath held. But then she takes the initiative to put her hands inside my shirt, touching my muscles, feeling and scratching.
“Olívia . . .”
“This is better than in my dreams,” she says, pulling me closer by the butt.
“I can make it even better.”
“You can?”
Instead of replying, I let my finger touch her clit.
“Oh, God!”
Damn, she’s so wet.
“So ready, beautiful. I can smell your arousal.”
I grab one of her breasts. It fills my hand entirely.
The dress doesn’t give me much access, but I notice her nipple is hard, and as I make circular motions on her clit, I nibble on the bud over the fabric.
“You’re driving me crazy.”
I smile because I love how she expresses everything she feels. “Do you want to come?” I tease, but I know she’s close just from the rhythm of her breathing.
“It won’t take long,” she warns.
“Not like this, angel.”
I make her lie on the counter. The urgency is so great that I can’t wait to take off her panties, and I end up tearing them apart. I spread her thighs and gaze at the sex covered by short, black hair.
“It wasn’t like this in my fantasy. You weren’t just looking.”
“No? What was I doing?”
Her cheeks, already red from excitement, now look like two balls of fire. Instead of replying, she spreads her legs wider.
“Do you want my mouth here?” I lightly brush my finger across her wet lips, and she moans. When I touch her opening, my impatient girl squirms, nodding her head in a sign of yes.
“Did I do this in your dreams, baby?” I lower myself and run my tongue over her drenched sex.
Her hands come to my hair, gripping it tightly, asking for more.
I suck hungrily, thirstily, dying for her. I massage her clit while eating her out, and she lets out a moan of pleasure.
Her scent is driving me crazy. I’m desperate with desire, but when I insert a finger to prepare her, she clenches around it like a vice.
I lift my head to look at her, but she seems totally lost in her own pleasure, and when I try to penetrate a little deeper, her legs try to close.
Now I’m sure it wasn’t just my imagination.
“Olívia, are you a virgin?”
“I am, but don’t stop.”
I don’t think she knows what she’s saying, and I try not to show how shocked I am.
A virgin after twenty?
“Guillermo . . .”
But nothing stops us from playing.
“You mentioned celebration brigadeiro?”
“I’m not hungry anymore. Not for sweets.”
“I am.”
I walk over to where she left the plate and take some of the now cold sweet on my fingers.
She props herself up on her elbows, watching me, but she’s unusually quiet.
When I settle back between her thighs, I don’t break eye contact as I separate her wet lips with one hand and put the sweet on her. Olívia lies back on the counter again, and when I bend down to devour her, her legs come to my shoulders without me asking.
The suppressed arousal of knowing I can’t have her right now increases my determination to make her as desperate as I am.
I suck on her clit, feeding on a mixture of chocolate and Olívia. I could eat her forever.
I let the tip of my thumb slide into her body, but it’s not enough, so I replace it with my tongue because I want her orgasm filling my mouth.
She breathes heavily, and my cock is swollen and very eager to get lost inside my angel.
“I’m going to come.”
“Of course you are.”
My tongue works fast, and with two more thrusts, Olívia surrenders, giving me everything I demand.