Chapter Nineteen #2
Feeling dizzy, she stepped back to steady herself and pressed a palm against the brick wall.
Mateo continued forward, trapping her, making her senses go haywire with need.
She was now fully reliant on the brick wall for support.
Ophelia’s eye caught Mateo’s chest rising, and she loved how she was affecting him, too.
He was staring at her with such intensity, like he wanted to devour her.
Mateo slowly ran a finger down her cheek to her lips, caressing the sensitive flesh there.
Her core pulsed in response. He moved to her neck, then smoothed his finger over her collarbone, stopping as the tip of his finger reached the top of her spaghetti strap.
Her skin tingled in the wake of his touch.
With one raised eyebrow, he asked, “May I?”
She nodded. Ophelia didn’t know what he wanted to do; she just wanted him to do it.
He simply flicked the right strap off her shoulder.
Instantly, her breathing turned heavy, and her body ached to touch his.
But still, the only part of him that was touching her was his fingertip.
Mateo was watching her through hooded eyes.
He continued and pulled the rest of her strap down with that damn finger, revealing her bare breast. Her nipples hardened, begging to be sucked.
His thumb lightly grazed the tip of her exposed nipple, and she instinctively groaned. Yes.
“Tsk, tsk.” Mateo shook his head. “No bra? I knew you were a wild one.”
He pulled down her left strap, letting both of her breasts catch the moonlight. An appreciative grin appeared on Mateo’s smug face.
“You’re beautiful, Ophelia.” He said it like he did the first time they met. O-phe-li-a. Like her name was a magic word or a passionate curse, a promise.
She couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She needed more. More hands, more flesh. She leaned forward away from the brick and kissed his full lips.
Mateo’s smell and taste were different. Tangy, almost pungent, in a way that made you stop and try it again.
So she did. Vinegar. Metal. Clay. Nectar.
She kissed him again, and this time he pushed her back into the wall.
Her bare breasts were pressed against the fabric of his shirt, and his right hand was on the back of her head, giving him leverage to crush his mouth further into hers.
His left hand clutched her hip, controlling her.
Mateo’s mouth moved from her lips down to her neck. She gasped for air as he rutted his hips into her. She could feel him through his jeans, hard and ready. He snaked his hand to the button of her jeans and deftly undid it. He leaned back as if to take in the look of her under his spell.
“Oh, wild one,” he murmured as he bit into her lips. “I’m going to make you come all over my fingers.”
Ophelia let her head fall back to the wall as she pushed her hips out for him.
Mateo hooked his fingers on the sides of her jeans and forcefully tugged them past her hips and plump ass.
Ophelia gasped. He was on her so quickly, crowding her body again and gliding his lips along her neck. His fingers crept down to her clit.
“So wet for me. You’re going to give it all to me. I’m going to devour you.”
Like a windfall, her pleasure left instantly at his words, and her mind reeled as he continued to lick a trail from the base of her neck to the back of her ear and swirled the pad of his finger on her clit.
What the fuck. No. No. No. It all felt too familiar.
Like déjà vu. Like the dream of him in the alleyway.
Ophelia turned her head away from him in the tiniest act of rejection as she tried to gather her jumbled thoughts.
Her body needed more, but her mind was telling her to stop.
Yelling at her to stop. Pleading. But she couldn’t voice the words.
A dot of red flame burned in the corner of the courtyard, and a small plume of smoke drifted into the night sky. Someone was there.
“Wait, wait,” Ophelia pleaded breathlessly, placing her hands on his chest to give her some distance.
“What’s the matter?” he groaned, his hand still in her panties.
A shape was taking form in the corner.
“Jolie?”
“Please don’t stop on my account,” Jolie said dryly as she took another pull from her cigarette.
Ophelia quickly pulled her clothing back on while Mateo adjusted himself.
“What the fuck, Jolie?” yelled Ophelia. “Why are you creeping on us?”
Jolie stepped farther into the courtyard with a huge loopy grin on her face and black satin pajamas on her body.
“Honestly?” she started and chuckled with a snort.
“I’m really high. Took a weed gummy like an hour ago.
” Jolie giggled and clutched her stomach as she doubled over.
“And I haven’t smoked a cigarette in ages.
” Jolie waved the burning cigarette in the air as more cackling burst from her chest. “And, and”—she breathed deeply— “and I came out here with a pack I bought for the trip.” Breath.
“Ahhh, and he,” she said, now crying from laughter as she pointed to Mateo, “was sucking your face off and saying the dumbest shit. I couldn’t stop watching. ”
Jolie was heaving and snorting and attempting to catch her breath as Ophelia and Mateo stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
“I swear to God I was going to go back in once I saw y’all, but then he was all like ‘I’m going to de-vour you,’” she said mockingly.
“Jolie, for fuck’s sake, get back inside, you loon!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m just. Oh my God. So good. So glad I witnessed this. Seriously, y’all. Thank you.” Jolie bowed in thanks with her hands in prayer.
As Jolie left the courtyard, she slow-clapped Mateo for his performance, and Ophelia could hear her cackling as she climbed up the stairs.
After Jolie’s untimely interruption, Ophelia politely told Mateo it was best if he left.
Ophelia couldn't wrap her mind around her momentary freak-out with Mateo. Why did she desperately want him all over her one minute and then be repulsed the next minute? Her memory of her negative feelings towards him were hazy. They almost felt made up in a sense. So when Mateo continued to text her the next day, she responded. She couldn’t think of a reason not to.