20. Moreno #2
“Even when she is difficult?”
“You were difficult at twenty.”
“That is fair.”
She pushes me back onto the padded bench and steps between my knees. Her injured foot stays planted carefully behind her. I reach for her waistband and stop before touching it.
“Can I?”
“Yes. Do not make me repeat permission every ten seconds.”
“If something changes, tell me.”
“I will.”
I unfasten her pants and slide them down with her underwear. She steps out with the good foot first, then lifts the injured one so I can clear the fabric without catching the boot. I do not touch the bandage.
Valentina braces one hand on my shoulder while I run my palms up the backs of her thighs. She parts them before I ask. I lean forward and put my mouth on her clit.
Her grip on my shoulder changes. I keep the pressure steady, tongue moving over the place that makes her hips follow. When she shifts too much onto the injured foot, I put one hand under her ass and take part of her weight.
“Do not hold me up like I cannot stand.”
“Then put your knee on the bench.”
She considers arguing and chooses leverage instead. One knee comes up beside my thigh. The position opens her further. I slide two fingers into her pussy while my mouth returns to her clit.
“Curl them.”
I do.
“Again.”
Her nails press into my shoulder. I keep the same angle until her body starts tightening around my fingers. She tries to pull back before the orgasm finishes, instinct fighting exposure even here.
I follow only enough to keep contact. “Stay if you want it.”
She looks down at me. “I want it.”
I continue until she comes against my mouth, one hand gripping my shoulder and the other locked around the edge of the bench. I stop when she pushes my forehead away.
She stands there breathing through the aftermath, then reaches for the condom packet. “On.”
I open it and roll it over my cock while she watches. “Where?”
“Bench. Sit back.”
I do what she says.
Valentina straddles me with her injured leg stretched along the bench and her good knee planted beside my hip. She holds my cock and lowers herself slowly. The first inch makes her stop.
I keep still. “Too much?”
“No. Give me a second.”
She takes the rest at her own pace. Her face changes with the stretch, not into softness, only concentration. When she is fully seated, she puts both hands on my shoulders.
“You move when I tell you.”
“Yes.”
She begins riding me, shallow at first, testing her foot and the angle. I keep my hands open at her waist. When she wants more leverage, she places one of them at her ass.
“Now.”
I thrust up.
Her body jolts. “Again.”
I match the pace she establishes, harder than I would choose with her foot injured and exactly as hard as she asks. She changes the angle by leaning closer, forehead against mine, and the bench shifts half an inch across the mat.
I put my foot wider to stabilize it.
“Do not go careful on me now,” she says.
“I am stabilizing the furniture.”
“That was almost funny.”
“Max is contagious.”
She laughs once and then loses the sound when I drive deeper. Her hand slides between us and finds her clit. I let her control that pressure while I keep the thrusts even.
“Harder.”
“You are sure?”
“Yes.”
I give her what she asked for. She has spent the entire night making the line unmistakable, and I stay where she put it until her speech breaks into curses and orders.
She comes again with her fingers moving fast between us. Her pussy tightens around my cock, forcing my rhythm uneven. I hold back until she lifts her head.
“Come,” she says.
I do.
The release hits hard enough that I have to lock both feet against the mat. I keep my hands at her waist without pulling her closer. When my body settles, she stays over me for several seconds, then lifts herself off and reaches for the towel on the bench.
I tie off the condom and put it in the lined bin. She cleans herself without accepting help, then dresses in stages while I pull my jeans on. Her shirt goes back over scars she has not named. None of them disappear because I touched her.
Valentina picks up her bra and walks toward the open doorway.
“Running now?” I ask.
She stops with her back to me. “There is nowhere to run.”
“You can still leave the room.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“I know.”
She turns enough to look over her shoulder.
“Running after sex will not make wanting me less real,” I say. “It also will not make the locked property line more acceptable. Both can exist.”
“You have been listening to Max.”
“Unfortunately.”
She puts on the bra, then her shirt. “Do not become emotionally articulate. It would ruin your reputation.”
“I will recover.”
I give her space to walk out first.
Calder and Max are in the common room exactly where they said they would be. Calder has a legal pad open, but is not reading it. Max has the keys beside his thigh and a glass of water waiting on the table. Neither looks jealous. Neither pretends they were not listening for trouble.
Valentina could take the corridor back to her bedroom. She stops between the two routes, looks at the open bedroom door in distance the, then at the sofa where all three of us can fit without touching her unless she chooses.
Max lifts the water. “I offer hydration and no commentary for at least thirty seconds.”
“Generous.”
Valentina takes the glass and sits on the far end of the sofa.
Calder shifts his papers to make room. I sit in the chair across from them instead of closing the space beside her. She drinks the water, keeps her injured foot on the floor, because she refuses to let anyone arrange it, and stays with all three of us while the bedroom remains empty down the hall.