10. Antonio #2
Her eyes lift to mine, and it feels like they’re boring through my skull. “Would you ever hurt me if I made you mad?”
“Fuck no,” I spit without pause. “I would cut off my arm before I harmed a single inch of you. But you don’t understand. I didn’t just want to beat him. I wanted to fucking kill him.”
She lets that admission hang in the air. “Do you think I’ve never thought about killing someone?” My mouth drops open in shock, but I’m unable to form words as she grabs a disinfectant wipe and cleans the wounds on my hand and arm. “Because I have.”
“What?” I ask in utter confusion.
“When Remington was ten, I was running a couple minutes late to pick him up from school. I called the school to let them know, so they were aware.” She opens a tube of antibiotic cream and squirts a pea-sized amount onto her finger.
“While he was standing outside, a man approached the gate and told my little boy his mom was sick and that I sent him to pick him up.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as she smooths the cream onto my scratches.
“Exactly. He told Remi the teachers were already aware, so he should just open the gate and come with him. Of course, we’d always warned our kids about strangers, so my smart boy ran to get one of the teachers.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. What happened?”
“The teacher was only a few feet away, and the man was walking away down the street by the time Remi told her what happened. But they had camera footage.” Her voice shakes a little with her next words. “He was identified as a sex offender who had recently been let out on parole.”
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“He was breaking his parole by going near a school, so he was picked up immediately and sent back to prison.” Ophelia stops what she’s doing and grabs both sides of my face, the fierce fire of a protective mother shining in her brown eyes.
“I was mad he went back to prison because I wanted to fucking kill him, Antonio. And that’s not hyperbole.
I wanted to literally rip him apart with my bare hands until there was nothing left but bones. ”
“Christ, that’s hot,” I say before clamping my mouth shut to keep any more inappropriate thoughts from escaping.
Her lips quirk up into a slow smile. “So cut the bullshit. You’re not the only person in the world who’s had those kinds of thoughts when someone they care for is in danger. And you care about me.”
“Do I?” I ask, amused at her definitive statement.
Ophelia sinks to her knees in front of me and unbuckles my belt, her gaze fixed on mine. “Yes. You do. And I care about you. So let me show you how much.”
Fucking. Hell.
It doesn’t take long before she has me undressed from the waist down and her small hand around my cock. It’s already hard for her, and pre-ejaculate drips from the tip. She laps it up, and I grip the sides of the counter so hard I’m shocked the marble doesn’t crack.
“Give me those eyes,” I command, and she complies, looking up at me with adoration. She’s given me head before, but we’ve always been on the bed. This is the first time she’s been on her knees on the floor for me, and it’s a goddamn beautiful sight. “Open your mouth and let me fuck your tongue.”
Her lips part, and her tongue eases out, curling up at the edges, giving my dick a perfect place to rest. I rub the crown along the wet, velvety surface and groan, placing one hand on the back of her head.
“There’s my good girl. Close your lips around my cock nice and tight, just like your pussy.” She does, clamping around me like a vice. One of her hands holds my base and the other slides around to cup my ass as she slowly works her mouth back and forth, taking me deeper and deeper each time.
My head falls back, but I keep my gaze on her through slitted lids. “You’re so perfect, Ophelia. So classy and refined, but when you’re on your knees for me, you turn into my dirty little slut.” She groans around me. “Look at you taking my cock so well. Does being my slut make your cunt wet?”
In answer, she releases my balls and pulls the crotch of her miniscule panties aside, dragging her fingers through her slit. Then she holds them up so I can see her arousal dripping from them. I dip my head to suck them clean.
“Mmmm, that’s a delicious little pussy you have, love. I’m so fecking obsessed with it.” My voice drops an octave. “With you.”
Ophelia releases my cock with a pop and flickers her tongue down the underside. “I’m obsessed with you too,” she tells me, licking each of my balls before pulling one of them into her hot little mouth.
“Fuck,” I grit out as she sucks, rolling her tongue around the globe while she slowly jacks me off with her hand, giving a little twist each time she reaches the root.
By the time she gives the same attention to the other ball, sweat droplets bead on my forehead and my abdominal muscles are tightened like I’ve just done two hundred situps.
Then she works her way back up my cock, dragging her teeth tightly along the surface. When she gets to the head, she stops, her smile demure and filled with bad intentions.
“Both hands in my hair,” she orders. “Fuck my mouth like I’m your good little slut.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, sinking my hands into her perfectly coiffed hair, determined to muss her as much as possible.
She takes me beautifully, bobbing her head up and down and matching my demanding thrusts without missing a beat. It doesn’t take long before I’m tugging on her hair, attempting to pull her off.
“Darlin’, I’m about to blow in your mouth,” I warn, but she doesn’t relent, grabbing my arse with one hand and not allowing me to pull out.
My vision doubles as I grunt through my release, the sounds guttural and animalistic. Ophelia’s eyes water and saliva drips from her mouth, but she swallows me like the good girl she is. She’s a complete mess by the time I’m done with her, and I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.
Once I’m spent, I use my remaining strength to sweep her off the ground and into my arms. “As much as I like seeing you on your knees for me, it should be the other way around. I should be worshipping you, love.”
Her swollen lips tip up into a smile. “I wouldn’t complain about that.”
Chuckling, I set her on the countertop and grab a washcloth and her foaming face wash. With a gentle touch, I use my fingers to wash her face before wetting the cloth with warm water to clean the foam away.
Her eyes are watery when she cups my face. “Thank you for taking care of me, Antonio.”
I’m not sure if she’s talking about the cleanup or rescuing her from Jenkins earlier, but I think maybe it’s a bit of both. Leaning my forehead against hers, I close my eyes and inhale the clean scent of her skin.
“My sweet, it’s my absolute honor.”