29. Chapter 29 #2
She moves faster. She knows exactly how to angle her hips to get my cock where she wants it. One hand rests heavy on my chest, using it for leverage as she sways back and forth. From the feel of it, she's using her other hand on her clit. The vision of it in my mind is glorious.
"Mari. I need to see you," I cry.
"You have not… You haven't…"
"You're about to come and I'm going to miss it."
"Hear it," she moans. "Feel me."
"Can I fuck you?"
"It will hurt you."
"Let me fuck you." I brace my heels into the mattress. "Let me give you this one."
"You still— Dom. Say please. You haven't— said please."
"Is that what you want, mi reina? Me quieres destruir. Quebrarme en dos."
I'll end up split in two, broken right down the middle, by how much she demands of me. Despite my despair, I'll love every second of it.
"Mari, por ti, lo que sea." I moan. "Please. Por favor. Te imploro. Please. Let me fuck you."
She doesn't say anything.
"I'll wreck my shoulders for you," I say. "Please."
She lifts herself to give me room. "Fuck me."
I do. I press on the mattress and thrust into her, fast. All of a minute later, she squeezes me tight, on and off, in that uneven rhythm I could lose myself in.
The sound that comes out of her throat fills the room.
It echoes in my head. Her nails might leave permanent marks on my skin, she claws at me so hard.
It doesn't stop me— I keep going hard.
"Shit, I didn't see you come," I complain.
I piston harder, but I falter when she comes off me with no warning. I'm so hard it hurts, and now my cock rests heavy on my belly. I haven't finished, and now she's not touching me either. My makeshift blindfold comes off and I blink to get used to the light in the room.
"Jesus." I can't deny I'm a bit disoriented, and still too turned on to manage.
She breathes hard. "Turn to your side."
I do. She takes off the belt, and I groan at the relief for my shoulders.
She hangs the silk slip in front of me. "You can make yourself come using this."
I let out a dark chuckle. "A forgiving, generous commander."
But I take instructions well, too, and wrap my erection in her nightgown. I finish when her arm comes around me and she's spooning me, kissing next to my shoulder blade, right where I think her flowers are.
And after, I catch my breath with her still behind me, until a deep longing floods my chest. It's a strange feeling. I haven't had it in a long time, yet it's familiar, because it always comes when I'm thinking about Mariana. Except she's right next to me tonight.
I hold her arm around me and cling to the feeling.
This is a memory I want to keep, because it's evidence I can miss her even when she's with me.
It can't be a feeling triggered by her absence.
It has to be the result of yearning for what didn't happen between us.
The forever we didn't get, and the one we won't get this time either.
She traces the art on my skin with her free hand. "Do you keep track of the tattoos you get?"
She sighs, and her breath caresses my back.
I interlock my fingers with the hand I have around me. "What do you mean?"
"You have more, but it doesn't look like you collect them for quantity."
"No, I add when I feel like it. Sometimes it's because it's been a while. Sometimes because I want to mark a moment."
"Turn around?"
This time it's not an order. I do it anyway.
She rests on her side, propped with her elbow on the mattress, so she can study me carefully. I smile. Her lipstick is faded, but not smeared when her mouth curls up at the corner. She runs a finger over my now-healed newest ink.
This is a memory I want to keep, too.
"Is this a moth?" she asks.
I nod. "It symbolizes transformation. Growth. Or my favorite, resilience."
I got it to remind me of the strength I needed when Mariana was around.
She traces its wings. "They're also known for pursuing the light, no? Sometimes to their own detriment."
Humor sparkles in her eyes. I purse my lips. My tattoo could signify that too, when not only did I keep coming back to her, choosing her, but it took me less than five minutes to give in to her proposal a few days ago in my car.
"That's not why I got it," I say, "but moths are known for that, yeah."
Her hand travels to my thigh, and she touches the solitary tattoo I have there, on the inside, invisible most of the time. Her bite mark.
"You didn't cover this one," she says.
"I didn't cover any of the tattoos I got while I was with you."
"Not even the carnations."
"The point of tattoos is to have them forever."
"Plenty of people cover them up when they… outgrow… a design."
"Some things are indelible." I caress her face. "And we need to accept them as something we went through."
The smile on her face is soft. "Resilience. I could use some of that, too."
She takes a deep breath and leans to kiss the moth on my chest. Peace and warmth blooms between us.
It spreads from the point where her lips touched my skin.
The whole moment— I click a picture in my mind, and I promise to print a hundred copies to hide all over my life.
In a thousand corners of my mind. So I keep finding them out of the blue, and each time they remind me that we had so much good, too.
"We all could use resilience," I whisper.
She rests her head on my chest. "Cora asked me to go with her on this trip at the end of the week as a strategy.
To strengthen the Strike foundation of course, by networking, but also to show a united front as the Sinclair sisters.
A sort of, 'Look at us, making our way. Thriving.
Prevailing.' She's rocking it as the GM, and I'm going to leave the Strike's foundation fully set up for wonderful things.
One of our stops is in Houston. That's still one of Dad's primary offices and he'll hear all about it. "
"Are you seeing him during this trip?"
"Yes. We're going for dinner." She sighs.
"He'll be looking at us with the same analytical eye as always, and decide we could be doing more.
Because he always decides we could be doing more.
Working harder. We've been given too much to let it go to waste.
To simply hoard it and coast through life.
So Cora and I want to show him how capable we actually are.
That we are going through every door open to us and going far.
We are following the Sinclair Montt code of ethics. "
"You may never get his full approval, Mari."
"I know. Hence the resilience. They're my family and despite the physical distance we had growing up, we never lacked attention and commitment.
I know they will be there. And they demand we show up for each other.
But it comes at a cost. You know my parents are critical.
Opinionated. They didn't like that my marriage ended and, instead of jumping straight back to our charity organization with Maisie, I came to Seattle with Cora.
They don't understand that I need to prove I can do this not only for them to believe it— they have not seen me succeed at anything— but also because I need to believe it. "
I wrap her in my arms and take a deep breath. The words at the tip of my tongue refuse to come out. As much as I want to tell her she doesn't need to prove anything to anyone, not even to herself, a part of me recognizes the impulse. The drive to impress those who have wronged us somehow.
Even after all this time, a spiteful part of me wishes to do just that with a second championship ring, right when her parents are watching so closely. So they know I have everything they doubted I'd ever get. It's one of the main reasons why I'm pushing myself so hard this season.
"You'll earn everything you want," I finally say. "I'm sure of it."
"I'm counting on it." She kisses the spot on my chest under her cheek.
"If I finally find my path and prosper, I'll find my ground.
I'll have roots within myself, to help me weather my parents' demands.
Then I'll get to do great things with my success, for so many people.
I can't be the only Sinclair sibling who doesn't have their shit together, you know? "
"Now that is bullshit. I'm sure they all have their own little cracks in the foundation. Even you rich kids can struggle sometimes, in your own pampered ways."
"Hey!" she complains, but she laughs, and I do too.
Later we get ready for bed.
"Can I text you?" she asks. "While I'm away?"
"Of course," I say.
And I bring her close to me as we fall asleep. Wondering what this all means for us.