Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
RAFAEL SANTOS
I look around the spacious tack room for anything to wrap our still wet, very naked bodies in. After the heavy workout, our already damp skin coated in a fresh sheen of sweat, the chill in the barn is unbearable.
I couldn’t handle it if Valentina got sick.
The tack room’s a large, open space, saddles all neatly placed on their various racks, bridles and halters hanging from hooks on the opposite wall.
In the center of the room is a single saddle stand holding a cherry brown saddle with delicate floral carvings on the cantle and pommel.
It looks freshly cleaned, and I run a finger over the leather.
The whole room smells like horse sweat and rich leather, and I suck it in greedily, loving the grounding effect it has on me.
This smells like home—not the home I grew up in, but the home I picture myself dying in.
Arms wrap around me from behind, and I lean back into her for a single moment, closing my eyes as the sensation of her tits, her hips and thighs, her arms burn against my skin.
“What now?” She whispers the question against my back, and I feel the nerves radiating off her. I gently squeeze her in reassurance.
“We tell them. We fix things. We do better.”
“What if they hate us?”
I know underneath it all, she’s just a little girl who wants love. The thought of disappointing the people in her life is no greater torture. I raise her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “They won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you, V.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’m completely under your spell, you evil, evil woman.” The admission is breathy, and her arms tighten a fraction.
“Evil, huh?” Her voice is almost coy, and I stiffen. I feel a punishment incoming, and I can’t help but be equal parts excited and afraid. Valentina’s punishments are usually as delicious as they are painful.
She extends her hands up to my pecks, raking her nails down my chest lightly. A wave of goosebumps follows her tortuous path, and she stops only when she reaches the hard ‘v’ at my waist.
“You’re cut from stone.”
I smirk—what do you expect me to do? “I work out.”
She nuzzles into my back, pressing a wet, hot kiss between my shoulder blades. “It’ll be a shame I can’t see your ripped physique when you’re kneeling on the floor.”
I grip her wrists, twisting in the circle of her arms to face her. My cock, already hard at the mention of getting on my knees for this siren, throbs between us, the wet tip bumping against the equally hard ridges of her stomach.
“I once thought you looked like a velvet covered statue—hard but soft.” I hold her breast, running my thumb over the peak of her nipple. “I didn’t know how true that would be.”
Gripping her hips, I hoist her up, placing her on the saddle in the center of the room. Her plump hips barely fit, and the sight of her naked, sitting on the saddle, is reminiscent of a queen on a throne.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” I groan, soaking in the sight of her perfect skin glistening against the dark leather of the saddle.
The curls around her face are tight coils, framing the heart shape of her face in a auburn color similar to the brown of the leather.
Her nipples, reddish peaks with silver bars, look like the silver conchos.
Her skin, the color of creamy, unstained leather, is red in places from my facial hair rubbing against her—my marks. My fucking woman.
I step back, gaping at her.
She looks like a fucking painting, and I’d sell my soul to look at her like this forever.
“What?” She rubs her hand up her opposite arm. I grip her wrist, pulling it back to her side so I can get another full look.
“I could die a happy man, because there’s nothing worth seeing that’s more beautiful than you are right now.”
She rolls her eyes, but a smile still twists her lips, and I know she’s pleased. I’ll do anything to keep her smiling at me.
“So, on my knees?” I look at the hard ground and then back at her face.
Her eyebrow raises in challenge, and I flash a wicked grin at her. She doesn’t yet know me well enough if she thinks I’m above groveling.
I drop to my knees, blood pooling to the tip of my cock as it bounces between us. Gripping her calves, I begin to push her open, but her thighs widen willingly, desperately even. “I can’t get the way you taste out of my mind.”
“Please,” she pleads, rocking her hips forward. The saddle stand creaks, and I look up at her.
“Stay still, and keep your hands to yourself.”
She nods, eyes glassy, her fingers already greedily pulling at the bar through her nipple.
“Are you my whore or my good girl?” I ask, truly wanting to know the answer. I remember when Valentina told me she liked degradation, and I fully understand why now. But that doesn’t mean I want to always degrade her—I want to worship her and the ground she stands on.
She licks her lips, her cheeks turning pink as if embarrassed. Finally, she whispers, “A good girl.” My chest inflates with want at the admission, knowing it was likely painful to say.
I press a tender kiss on the inside each knee. “Yes, you are. My good,” I kiss each inner thigh, “girl.” I kiss the top of her pussy with a chaste peck, and she moans, her legs already trembling with anticipation. “Are you wet for me too?”
“Yes.” She nods eagerly.
I run my nose through the curly red triangle of hair on her mound, inhaling the scent of her.
It mixes with the smell of leather, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelt.
Tentatively, I run my tongue through her lips, gathering her wetness and my seed on the tip of my tongue before swallowing it.
She’s sweet and salty—a mix of both of us, and I’m only growing more desperate to consume her, even as I try to deny myself.
I run my tongue through her again, this time harder and deeper, exploring her heat as her legs fall impossibly wider. She leans back, pushing her pussy higher to allow me better access. We groan in unison, and something inside snaps at the sound of her so desperate for me.
I begin to eat with reckless abandon, holding her silken lips open with my fingers in an attempt to get deeper. My tongue fucks into her tight entrance, and she rocks against me.
But she doesn’t touch me. She keeps her hands to herself, just as I demanded—just like the good girl I know she desperately wants to be.
I press a finger into her while sucking her clit into my mouth, rolling the tender bud between my lips. She screams, her pussy tightening around my fingers, searching for more.
Adding two more fingers, I draw back just far enough to watch myself disappear inside her, over and over and over. A sheen of her want coats my fingers, her cum leaking down her thighs. I lick it up, consuming every drop of surrender she gives me.
Her pussy pulses, and I press hard, flat licks to her clit. She’s close, and I want nothing more than to give her this.
“Come for me, baby. Be my good girl.”
“Yes.” It’s a strangled whisper, and I watch her shatter above me, her face pinched into a look of concentration before her entire body begins to spasm. Her tits bounce, legs quivering, her mouth dropping open on a silent scream.
I refocus on my task, doubling down on her clit, sucking until her thighs clamp around my head. “Oh fuck! Rafael, fuck!” she screams, chanting my name over and over. I continue to suck her pussy into my mouth, slowing my fingers until her thighs finally fall apart.
When I tip my gaze up, she’s looking down at me with a look of true satisfaction, cheeks rosy and sweat slicked.
I press a final kiss on her the top of her center before standing.
She reaches for me, but I just grip her wrist, pulling her to stand instead.
Leaning forward, I kiss her, and her confused expression quickly melts into one of bliss.
Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks when I finally pull away.
“What about you?”
“I promise, I got exactly what I wanted. Plus, I plan to do this forever. No need to overdo a perfect moment.”
She’s silent for several moments, and I begin to worry I’ve scared her with my mentions of forever.
“I’m perfect, huh?” She winks at me, and my racing heart stutters.
I kiss her again, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Absolutely, and I’m never letting you go.”