48. Gabriela
Chapter 48
Gabriela
I ’m running late. Typical me. I glance at the clock on my phone as I zip up the dress I’ve been eyeing all week, the one I bought for Joaquín’s birthday. It’s a deep red, simple but elegant, and just tight enough to make me feel confident without being uncomfortable. I haven’t had a night out like this in forever—just the two of us. It feels like a small luxury in a life that’s been filled with work, college, and a five-year-old with more energy than I can handle some days. Tonight, though, tonight’s for us.
I hear the sound of Joaquín laughing in the living room, followed by the soft voice of Mireya, asking him a million questions. She’s staying the night with Cora and Nat, which means it’s just the two of us tonight, here after dinner. No distractions, no responsibilities. It’s been too long since we’ve had an evening like this. Just a date. I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest, the kind that’s almost childlike.
“Are you ready?” Joaquín calls from the hallway, his voice drawing me out of my thoughts.
I look at myself one last time in the mirror. I’m nervous, but in a good way. My hair’s down in soft waves, the makeup minimal but just enough to make me feel a little more put-together than usual. I take a deep breath, grab my purse, and head for the door.
“Almost,” I call back, walking toward him.
Joaquín is standing by the front door, dressed in a crisp shirt and dark jeans, looking like he’s ready for a night out. His smile when he sees me makes my stomach flip—he always looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. It’s one of those little things that never gets old.
“Wow,” he says, eyes widening as he takes in my dress. “You look stunning.”
I laugh softly, feeling my cheeks warm. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grins, stepping forward and offering me his arm. “Shall we?”
We step out into the cool evening air, the smell of the city still sharp and fresh from a quick rain earlier in the day. The car ride to the restaurant is easy—the quiet comfort that we’ve settled into over the last few months. It’s not a silence that’s awkward—it’s the silence that comes from knowing someone so well that words aren’t always necessary. We’re content in each other’s presence, and I can feel the connection between us like a low hum.
Joaquín and I are still in that honeymoon phase of being together where the minutes were apart feel like hours and complete agony. Where sex is almost daily and never boring. Though I’m not sure if it will ever be boring per se. I can’t get enough of him and we have years of loving to catch up on.
The restaurant we chose is a small, family-owned Mexican place just outside of town, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that’s always bustling with life. Colorful tablecloths and small potted plants adorn the tables. As we walk in, the smell of sizzling fajitas, grilled meat, and spices fills the air. I feel a grin tug at my lips. This place feels like somewhere my mom would tell me to take him to for his birthday. An intimate place where you can just focus on each other, a place that feels like home away from home.
We’re led to a table on the patio, a small, cozy area strung with twinkling fairy lights. The evening is warm—the breeze carrying the sound of a live band setting up in the corner of the patio. They’re tuning their instruments, getting ready to play salsa and cumbia, and the energy of it all makes my heart beat a little faster.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” I say, looking around. “Salsa dancing with you. An actual date, no interruptions.”
Joaquín chuckles, the sound rich and low, as he pulls out my chair for me. “Well, I’m glad you’re excited. It’s my birthday, so tonight’s all about you and me. We can do whatever we want.”
I sit down—the excitement bubbling in my chest—and take in the atmosphere around me. The lights, the music, the people laughing and enjoying themselves—it’s perfect. I can feel a small weight lifting off my shoulders. I’m not worrying about Mireya tonight, not thinking about all the little things I need to do for school or work. Tonight, it’s just us.
Just Joaquín and me.
We order drinks—aguas frescas, of course—and I let the tart sweetness of the jamaica settle on my tongue. Joaquín sips his horchata and looks over at me, his expression soft.
“I can’t believe I’m twenty,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “It feels like I was just eighteen yesterday.”
I smile at the thought. I can remember when I turned eighteen—it was like crossing some invisible line into adulthood. But now, at almost twenty, I can look back and realize just how much of a transition that time was for me. Losing my mother, high school graduation, motherhood—all the changes I’ve gone through.
“You’re still so young,” I tease, reaching over to touch his hand. “Still plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with your life.”
He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “I think I’ve got it figured out. Finish school, bust ass at work, take care of you and Mireya, and make sure we’re happy. That’s all I need.”
I squeeze his hand, my heart swelling at his words. “I’m glad you feel that way. You’ve been amazing to me, Joaquín. To both of us.”
We share a moment of quiet, comfortable affection, and it feels like everything is just right.
The band starts playing, a lively rhythm that makes my feet tap automatically. I glance at Joaquín, a grin on my face. “Do you know how to salsa?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not at all. But I’m willing to try.”
“Good,” I say with a wink. “Because I’m dragging you onto the dance floor.”
We stand up and make our way toward the area where other couples are already dancing. The rhythm of the music fills me, and I feel the energy in my body. I’ve always loved dancing—salsa, cumbia, reggaeton, anything really—but dancing with Joaquín feels different. It feels like we’re learning each other’s body language, finding a new way to communicate without words.
He holds me close, his hands resting on my waist as I take his hand, guiding him into a basic step. He’s a little stiff at first, unsure of the rhythm, but he listens and follows. I can’t help but laugh as he tries to mirror my movements, but soon enough, he’s got it. The music, the closeness, the way he’s looking at me—it’s all so natural.
“You’re doing great!” I laugh, spinning in his arms.
“I’m just following your lead,” he replies, his grin wide and infectious. “But this is fun.”
The music shifts to something slower, a romantic ballad that takes the energy down a few notches, and we sway together under the stars. I can feel his heart beating against mine, the warmth of his body close to mine as we move slowly, lazily. For a moment, it’s just us. No one else in the world. No responsibilities, no doubts. Just the two of us here together, in this perfect moment.
“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he says softly, his voice barely louder than the music.
“Me too,” I whisper back. “It’s been too long since we had a night like this.”
We stay on the dance floor for a while longer, moving to the music, laughing at each other’s missteps, and simply enjoying the closeness. We’re comfortable, and I feel like I’m rediscovering a part of myself that had been buried under the weight of day-to-day life. The quiet moments, the ones that remind me of what I’m working for, what we’re building together.
As the night winds down, we return to our table, the light from the patio lamps casting a soft glow around us. The waiter brings over a small cake, a little surprise from the restaurant, to celebrate Joaquín’s birthday. He looks up at me, his smile genuine and full of affection.
“You’ve made this a perfect night, Gabby,” he says, his voice full of warmth. “Thank you for this. For everything.”
I grin, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Happy birthday, Joaquín. You deserve all of this and so much more.”
He reaches for his cake, taking a bite and laughing as the frosting gets stuck on his lips. I laugh too—the sound of it easy and carefree. I realize how much we need to have moments where it’s just us like this, without the noise of everyday life.
* * *
Joaquín pulls into the driveway and turns off the truck, and I stare at him from the passenger seat. “Well, birthday boy, what do you want to do tonight? We have no Mireya, and you have me all to yourself.” I bite my lower lip and look up at him through my lashes. “Whatever. You. Want.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He pushes open his door and practically falls out, closing it behind him. Rounding the front of the truck, he opens my door, spins me, and pulls me to the edge of the seat. “Spread your legs for me. Let me see my pussy.”
I do what he says, spreading my legs, and the only thing that blocks his view from getting any eye full of me is the sheer red thong. Hearing him groan at the sight of me gives me butterflies that go from my stomach to my clit. “Go on, brother , taste your sister .”
Am I playing into Joaquín’s kink? You bet your sweet ass I am.
I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t turn me on, too.
“Are you fond of this pair, Hermosa?" Bringing my attention to my thong as he rubs the pad of his thumb over my sensitive clit.
“No,” I moan from the stimulation. “Rip them to shreds for all I care. Just keep touching me.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than touch you, sister. Your brother is going to devour you, and then after you’ve soaked my face, I’m going to carry you into the house.” Joaquín grips the fabric at my hip and pulls, ripping the fabric. “I’m going to bend you over the arm of the couch and fuck this pretty little cunt until you scream my name.”
The cool night air has a shiver running through me, and Joaquín smirks. “Let me warm you up a little bit, baby.” And before I can tell him to just take me in the house and fuck the shit out of me, his mouth is on me. His warm tongue torturing me with slow, languid strokes from my entrance to my clit.
“Oh, my Go—” I moan so loudly that the neighbors can probably hear me.
“I’m not God, Reina. Yo soy tu Rey. Tu hermanastro y este vagina es mío . (I'm your king. Your step brother and this pussy is mine.)”
He is my everything. My childhood crush. My bully, who worked on himself to become the man I needed him to be. And someday, he’ll be my husband. The future father of my children and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The sensation of my orgasm building as he adds in his middle and ring finger has me wriggling my hips, meeting the strokes of his tongue on my clit. The firm pressure building has my thighs quaking and attempting to close around him. “Ah-ah, Reina, ” he says, using his shoulder to keep my right thigh pushed open. “Fucking scream my name so loud the neighbors hear it.”
The cascade of pleasure hits, and it’s like everything falls away. The world around me fades away in a sea of tears that fall from my eyes. “Quín!” His name comes out way louder than I expected, and the gush of fluid pools in his hand, against his face, and puddles on the seat.
“Fuck yes! That’s it, Hermosa. Fucking soak this seat and my face with your cum. You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” Joaquín praises as I come down from the high of my orgasm. “I need to get you inside before I come in my pants. All this cum needs to be inside you. I need to fill you up,” he pants. “I need to see this pretty cunt dripping with us.”
Joaquín takes no time in throwing me over his shoulder, smacking my ass, and slamming the truck door closed. He carries me like a caveman, carrying his conquest up the front steps, unlocking the front door and closing it behind us. He bends me over the arm of the couch, hikes the skirt of my dress up and stares at my pussy.
“Such a pretty cunt my sister has.” He groans. I hear the clink of his belt and the pull of the teeth of his zipper in the silence. The only other noise is the sound of our erratic breathing. “Are you ready to take my cock, baby?”
“Yes, please. Please fuck me, Quín. I need to feel you.” With his cock at my entrance, he thrust inside me in one hard motion, slamming my hips into the arm of the couch. Then he pulled back to the tip and slammed back in, stretching me, filling me so completely. I let out a cry from his cock hitting my cervix, but the cry quickly shifted into deep moans as his hips pistoned against my ass.
“Look at you, my sweet step sister, getting her pretty cunt stretched out by her step brother’s cock. Right here in the living room.” He grunts with each thrust. “Tell me you want it. Tell me how much you want your step brother’s cock.”
“Oh, fuck,” I moan into the pillow. Joaquín pulls his cock all the way out, smacks my ass, then thrusts back inside me again.
“Tell me, Gabriela.”
“Oh my God, I want it. I want my step brother’s cock so bad. Please, please give it to me.” He leans over me and takes my mouth with his, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I can taste myself on his lips. His hand wraps around my throat and he gives me a firm squeeze.
“That’s right, because you're my dirty little sister, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I cry out as his violent thrusting leaves me boneless as the waves of euphoria hit. My vision spots with colorful dots from the oxygen restriction. Joaquín lets my throat go as my orgasm peaks and my whole body shakes. After a few seconds, I realize he didn’t finish.
“What… about… you?” The words come out choppy as I say them.
“Get on your knees for me. I want to come in your mouth this time.” He pulls his jeans down and kicks them off with his shoes. He moves to sit on the lounge of the couch and beckons me to come to him. “Crawl for me, Hermosa . Let me see those delicious hips sway back and forth while you crawl to me.”
So eager to please him, I drop to my hands and knees and crawl over to him. Listening to him groan and watching him stroke his cock at the sight of me has me feral for him. How can he be so fucking hot?
In front of him, on my knees, I take over, stroking his cock, keeping my eyes on his. “Like this, baby?”
“Fuck yeah, just like that.”
“What now?” I ask playfully, kissing everywhere but his cock.
“ Hermosa , if you don’t put my cock in your mouth,” he whimpers as I give his balls a gentle tug. “I’m gonna come all over your face.”
I smirk, then slowly lower my mouth around him, hearing him gasp as I take him to the base, my nose flush with his stomach. “Fuuuck,” he moans at the sensation of me caressing the tip with my tongue, lapping at the salty precum that drips from his tip.
I can taste the combination of myself and Joaquín, and it gives me an idea. I take him deep in my throat, tugging on his balls, and when I feel them start to pull up, his breathing is tight and I know he’s close.
“ Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” he whimpers. “I’m gonna come, Reina . Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.” The suction of my warm mouth has him shuddering, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to moan deeply and my mouth fills with him. I hold as much of him as I can in my mouth and when he pulls out a look of pure bliss on his face, he says, “Swallow, baby.”
I pounce on him, pushing him to his back and hovering over his mouth. I go like I’m going to kiss him and he opens his mouth. Opening my mouth, I spit his cum into his mouth and bring my hand around his throat. “No, I want to feel you swallow us down.”
The sight of his eyes wide and the trembling of his throat as he swallows is everything.
“Such a good brother,” I whisper into his lips as I kiss him. “I think we can both use a shower and some rest.”
“Only for a minute though. I plan on fucking you as many times as I can tonight.”