Chapter 15 #4
Rafael stayed perfectly still, like he was waiting to understand what she was doing. He probably expected her to panic and push him away again, to change her mind after one kiss. “You said we needed to figure out what this was,” he whispered.
Grace pulled him closer, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling his scent. “I did say that, but I don’t care anymore.”
“I’m sure you were right though.” Rafael’s voice caught. “This is complicated.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment, gathering her courage. Then she looked him in the eyes. Defiant. Certain. “It is complicated, but I know what I want.”
He started to ease into her, his hands moving against her back. “What do you want?” he breathed into her ear, his voice suddenly deeper and sexier than anything she’d ever heard in her life.
Grace swallowed, goosebumps cascading down her arms. “You. Tonight. That’s all I need to know for now.”
He leaned toward her, his nose tracing her jawline. “Maybe it’s a bad idea, Graciela, but I can’t think about that now. I can’t think of anything but touching you.”
“Yes,” she said again. She’d say it many more times that night, she was sure. She hoped she would scream it from his bed.
He exhaled a thick breath then, as if taking a moment to prepare himself, and then he put his hands against her face and kissed her.
It started slow at first. A soft, delicious kiss, tender and sweet, but when Grace moaned, he pushed harder against her, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth.
He wrapped an arm around her back to anchor her against him and pressed another hand to the back of her neck to hold her firmly in place so he could keep kissing her.
She could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. She wanted more and more and more.
She leaned against him, easing her whole torso into the firm shape of his body and sighing.
This ache had been building inside of her for days, and finally she was getting some relief, finally she was able to touch him again—to put her fingers in his hair, to slide her hands under his shirt to feel his smooth skin and the muscles of his abdomen.
He felt exactly as she’d imagined, firm and perfect and warm. She wanted to explore him. She wanted to see all of him, every inch of his incredible form, so ridiculously proportionate and beautiful, so unlike a Picasso painting, but a work of art, nonetheless.
She tugged his shirt until he yanked it off the rest of the way. Her eyes moved down his body, drinking in the sight of him before she spread her fingers over his chest and then gripped his arms. His arms, holy moly.
When she felt his eagerness pressing between her thighs, her whole body seemed to hum with anticipation.
She was going to have sex with Rafael Ferrer-Martín.
She’d fantasized about it. She’d imagined it many, many times, but she never really believed it would happen.
And in that moment, she didn’t care if it was only one time.
It didn’t matter if she was just a conquest, like Alma suggested.
She was willing to be conquered, a notch on his bedpost, whatever it took.
It would be worth it. And he would be a notch on her bedpost, too.
It would be a point of pride that she’d landed someone who looked like him, even if she never told a soul.
Raf herded her toward his bedroom with his body, pushing her backward until her back was against the door.
He found the knob, and they stumbled to the bed while he unbuttoned her shirt, whispering Spanish phrases as he revealed more of her skin, inch by inch.
When her shirt was on the floor, he paused and took her in, his eyes landing on the swell of her small breasts compressed against the cups of her bra.
“Dios mio, Graciela. You’re so fucking beautiful.” He lowered himself over her on the mattress, his hands working her bra hooks, and then he let out another string of Spanish that she could only assume was absolutely filthy.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
He laughed and nuzzled into her neck again before raising up enough to reach the button of her pants. She wriggled around desperately, helping him to strip them off. Then she started in on him, tugging at his slacks until he leaned back and pulled them off the rest of the way.
Soon, they were both left in only their underwear, and Grace marveled at the body before her, a sculpted figure in boxer briefs.
Raf let out a grunt and pressed his fingers between her legs. He kissed her wildly. First her lips, then her neck. Then he left a trail of kisses between her breasts and down her belly until his hot breath joined his hand.
Grace writhed beneath his touch, too eager for him to keep going.
“You want this, Graciela?” His voice was laced with barely restrained need.
“Yes,” Grace said in a whimper, just as she’d known she would. Yes. Yes.
He put his mouth against the fabric between her legs and sucked before teasing her with his teeth on the cotton. She responded by arching her hips toward him and sliding her fingers through his hair. He rubbed his thumb against the edge of her panty line, teasing her.
“Raf,” she said, breathless.
“Mmm?”
“I’m ready.” She wiggled on the bed, desperate for more contact.
He looked up and locked eyes with her with a smirk. “I can tell.”
She exhaled, letting her head fall back on his pillow. “Then get going already. You’re killing me.”
“So impatient, Graciela. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. I’m not going to rush through it now.” She groaned as he moved up her body, pressing his fingers between her legs again.
Finally, she managed to tug at the waistband of his briefs until they were around his thighs.
He ripped them off, then he lifted her ankles in the air and slid her cotton underwear down her legs.
He pressed kisses to her hips and licked her inner thigh while grabbing onto her ass.
She twisted to take his bare erection in her hand and stroked it, trying to drive him as wild as she was so he would move faster.
“Ahh,” he said. “Alright. Slow down or this will all be over too quickly.”
“What?” she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. She did slow down, but she tightened her grip.
He gasped. “Fuck, Graciela.”
She got her way at last, and he moved over her again, positioning himself at her center and spreading her legs wider. She helped to guide him where she wanted him and then pushed her hands against the back of his neck, bringing his lips back to hers so she could kiss him.
“Do you have…?” For some reason she couldn’t say the words, but of course he knew what she meant and leaned toward the nightstand.
Grace tried not to think about the other girls who had been in this bed making use of this same box of condoms. She wasn’t supposed to care about that.
She didn’t. All she needed was this one, perfect night and nothing else.
Raf rolled back toward her as slid on the unwrapped condom. She watched him with bated breath until he turned and focused his attention on her once again, kissing her fiercely until he was positioned over her again, his erection between her legs.
“Oh, wowza,” she said as he finally pushed himself inside her. Grace clapped a hand over her mouth and then froze, horrified she’d ruined the hottest moment of her entire life.
Rafael laughed, seemingly thrilled by her ridiculous reaction. “That’s a good sign, right?”
She nodded. It didn’t take long until they were both slick from sweat, Rafael’s damp forehead crushed to hers, his gasps of pleasure matching her own. His hand slid back down her belly and he pressed it between them until she could move against it at the perfect angle.
“Yes, Raf. Right there.” She kissed him forcefully, biting at his lower lip.
“I’ve thought about this so much,” he admitted. “You are terribly distracting.”
“Really?” Obviously, Grace could tell he was attracted to her, but it was hard to believe she could have overwhelmed his thoughts in the same way he’d overwhelmed hers.
His response wasn’t English.
More and more and more. The friction between them grew as they started to move faster, setting pace with a wild rhythm.
“Graciela,” he groaned. “I’m almost…”
The pleasure built inside of her until it hit its peak, and waves of satisfaction thrashed from her core to her limbs to her toes.
Rafael let out another groan, reaching his climax and falling against her, his breath warm against her breasts.
She relished the feeling of his weight on her—heavy and limp and glorious.
They were both still for a moment, panting.
Grace felt a smile spread across her face.
She absently rubbed her thumb against the back of his neck.
She could hear both of their hearts beating, both pounding until she couldn’t tell them apart anymore, and whether it was his heart racing double-time or if it was her own no longer seemed to matter.
Raf glanced up at her with a gleam in his eyes. “Oh, wowza,” he said in an American accent. He looked utterly thrilled with himself and full of mischief. He gave her a lazy grin, his fingers digging into her side.
She shook her head as a blush colored her cheeks and flicked him lightly on the back. “Hey,” she teased. “It just slipped out. Don’t mock me.”
He kissed her neck reverently, again and again and again. “Oh, trust me, I’m not mocking you. It seems like the perfect reaction in this situation. I mean it.”
Grace rolled toward him, burying her face against his chest with a laugh. “It was good then?” she asked playfully, though she was anxious to hear his response.
He tilted her chin up and held her gaze, but he was no longer smiling. “Fuck yes, Graciela. Without a doubt.”