Chapter Ten
I’ll be the first to admit that I have no idea what possessed me. I woke up, lying across Trent’s lap. The TV was blaring away. The remains of our dessert pint of ice cream melting on the table. The tequila bottle and glasses alongside it.
Quivering with something I didn’t understand, I got up, leaving the blanket over his lap. The booze bottle tempted, so I grabbed it and took another quick drink straight from it as the tingly sensations I’d woken with formulated into a plan.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I tiptoed back to the bathroom, stripped out of my clothes, including the possibly ruined Real Madrid jersey. Taking a moment to study myself in the mirror, I realized that, for the first time in my almost thirty years of life, I wanted a man. I wanted him to kiss me. To touch me. To make love to me. Yes…to fuck me. To drive out the demons that had hovered around me for so many awful years. Years I’d pretended that I was normal.
I bit my lip and cupped my heavy breasts in both hands. My nipples were so hard they hurt. I brushed my fingers over them, shivering at the sensation that hit me between my legs. Without a thought in my head, I wandered out to the bedroom, waiting, second-guessing, until I heard him. His beautiful voice. Calling my name.
And now, I was the one who had to make the first move, which made me feel even better about this crazy decision I’d made. At last, our lips met, his tongue teased, then got forceful, as I sensed something in him rise and meet me in a way that went beyond our bodies. Without breaking our kiss, he eased me back onto the bed, his hands now stroking my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples.
The bolt of near pain hit me hard, making my back arch. He pulled away, concern in his odd-colored eyes. “No, no, please. I liked it. I just… Don’t…oh… Mi Dios.”
He grinned and pushed me all the way back and lowered his face to my breasts. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Fingers. All combined to drive me insane. I sensed my hips moving in a way that embarrassed me but that I couldn’t stop. All the pain and pleasure in the world seemed to be centered in my nipples, and there was a line of nerves that connected them to my pussy. I spread my legs. Made strange sounds deep in my throat as he kept stroking, licking, sucking.
“Oh. I… It’s…”
“Sh, mi amor,” he whispered, letting his lips trail up my neck until he kissed me again, in that way he had, that shut out the world and made me want to cry. I clutched at him, trying to pull him over on top of me. My body needed more. It required a connection.
His hand dropped to my stomach, teasing me in little circles with his fingertips. My hips thrust up as he placed tiny kisses down my neck. I sensed myself writhing, forcing parts of my body closer to him. Driving out the voice that tried to interrupt my pleasure, to call me a slut, a whore and all the things I’d been called during all my previous experiences with sex, I grabbed his hand and shoved it between my legs. I felt his smile against my skin, which was now slick with sweat.
“Quiero. Quiero que estés dentro de mi. Por favor. Mi…”
Trent propped himself on his elbow next to me, and moved his hand back to my stomach. “Did you just say what I think you said?” His teeth grazed my earlobe. That hand I wanted elsewhere tickled its way up my torso and tweaked my nipple, making me gasp.
“Stop teasing me,” I demanded. “I need…”
“I know what you need, bella,” he whispered. “Relax. Let me work. Okay? Trust me.”
I nodded.
“Now lie back, and lift your arms up over your head.”
A shiver of anticipation joined all the other many shivers running through me. He was kinky, Evelyn had said. Kinky. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
As if reading my mind, he smiled and kissed me gently, softly, without any rush or urgency. His hands cradled my face, slid into my hair. And any fear or worry flew from my mind. He kissed his way down my neck again, gave each of my nipples ample attention, making my hips thrust up again. Shameless.
Yes. Totally.
To my surprise, he began to kiss his way down my stomach, tickling me, shocking me, tantalizing me in ways I’d never felt in my sorry life. He was murmuring something in that musical voice of his. He shifted so he was on the floor, between my legs, which were already spread wide. The pulsing sensation between my legs got stronger, more urgent as his mouth moved across the mound of my hair. Fingers gripped my hips, digging in hard, pulling me down the bed, toward his face.
“Oh, no. I…can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered. But instead of doing what I thought he was going to do, he bent one of my knees, gripped my foot, straightened my leg up and started kissing—starting at my instep, working his way down my ankle, spending some time sucking the skin behind my knee. I gripped the bed cover, trying to understand what was happening to my body.
I hurt, but I was also zinging with something strange. His lips moved again. He bent my leg up to my chest, then, of all things, sucked my big toe into his mouth. I watched him, fascinated by the many sensations slipping and sliding around inside me, all over me. He let go of my toe. His gaze met mine. I reached out to stroke his head, loving the soft skin under my fingertips. He let go of that leg and did the same thing with my other one, drawing out the extreme pleasure—pulling it like a bit of yarn he’d found on a sweater, tugging it until it lay between us, connecting us.
This time, after bestowing all that odd, yet incredible oral attention to the skin behind my knee, he kept going, nipping at the back of my thigh. Then, without warning, he tossed my leg over his shoulder and dove between my legs.
“Ay! Papi!” I yelped when his lips touched me in a place that made actual fireworks explode behind my closed eyelids. He had some part of me in his mouth and was sucking it. I was shoving myself up and into his face. My fingertips were dug into his scalp. When it happened, I screamed, I’m embarrassed to say. But at that moment, everything in me was focused between my legs, where my man was showing me what heaven looked like.
“Oh. Oh…oh…” My voice came from far away as my body seemed to settle back into itself. He stayed down between my legs, riding out my first orgasm ever. Finally, I lay gasping for breath, arms and legs spread. He rose, his smile wide. His lips slick. I refused to let embarrassment ruin this for me. Because I was not done. Not by half.
“Please tell me you didn’t call me your daddy,” he said, flopping back down onto his side with a small wince.
“It’s a Spanish thing, mi amor.” I stroked his cheek, then put my fingertips to my lips, tasting the delicious tang of his sweat. “I don’t think you’re my daddy, don’t worry.” I rose on my elbow mirroring him, and hooking my leg over his hips. “But you are my papi now, guapo. Deal with it.”
Face pensive, he took a lock of my hair and put it to his lips. “I love everything about you,” he said, his voice rough. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I think I may change my mind.”
“Sweet talker,” I said. But something in my chest expanded at his words.
“Too soon?” He smiled.
“Probably.” I wanted to touch him, to stroke his flesh, to hold his cock in my hand. But I was frozen with shyness all of a sudden. “Thank you,” I said, putting my fingers to his lips.
“Oh, mi angelito, that is only the beginning.”
“Good,” I said as my fingers touched his neck. They were shaking, which made me feel like a stupid fool. He grabbed my hand, kissed my knuckles and pushed my shoulder until I was on my back again.
“Would you like more?”
“I… I want to…touch you.” He stood between my spread knees, still fully dressed. It was too dark for me to see much but I noted when his hand dropped to his belt. My mouth actually watered right then, which shocked me almost more than the force and beauty of my first orgasm.
“Not sure I’m ready for that, bella,” he said, even as he lifted his shirt up and off. “But I’ll muscle my way through it.” The light from a full moon hit the side of his face, giving me a sense of how he really felt. His eyes gave him away every time. They were wide, shining, a bit wary. And I loved him for it.
He unbuckled, unzipped, pushed his jeans down. He stood there, looking sheepish in a way that made my heart pound. This man was waiting, holding back, for me. I sat up fast and yanked his underwear down—or I tried to. They got hung up for a few seconds, which made him chuckle and me horrified at my rookie move.
But finally, he was naked. And I could see he was exactly as I’d imagined him. Defined chest muscles, an honest-to-God six-pack. And his cock… I exhaled as I sat up, reaching for him.
I’d seen a penis before. I’d felt what it could do, ripping me from innocence forever. I’d had one in my mouth, as I’d told him. It had gagged me, made me cry and sickened me.
A wave of terror engulfed me as I observed this most intimate part of him. He stood still, not saying a word. Letting me draw my own conclusions, make my own moves. I hesitated, closing my eyes and reminding myself that this was Trent. This was the kind, gentle, perfect man who’d just bestowed a mind-bending climax on me.
He tilted my chin up so I had to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to take this step yet, angelita. If you’re not ready.”
I blinked, parsing my emotions. I closed my eyes and felt something come roaring up and out of the mire of fear and disgust I’d inhabited relative to my own sexuality. I wanted this. I wanted him. I would have him—over and over again. This woman—the true Melody—had been cowering inside me for years. Trent had found her, pulled her from her hiding place. She took over my mind, my body, most specifically my hand, which rose again. My fingers wrapped around the amazing thickness of Trent’s cock.
He sucked in a breath at my touch. I—and she, my new self—observed a bead of fluid form in the slit at the top. I took a breath, sucking in the essence of him—of his raw, masculinity. Time slowed to a crawl as I leaned forward, wanting to taste him. The new Melody urged me on. She was a healthy, sexual creature and we had a lot of time to make up for.
“No,” Trent whispered as my tongue touched the tiny pearl of fluid.
“Yes,” I—and she—whispered back. “It’s fine,” I said, before lowering my lips over the beautiful, most intimate part of him I held in my hand. His groan was low and loud and seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. His fingers twined in my hair. His hips thrust forward. I slid my lips as far down as I could, then retreated, loving the taste and feel of him.
I—me—because I was this new woman now. She and I had become one, finally. Thanks to Trent. I owed him so much. It was time for a bit of payback. I looked up at him as I teased the edges of the head. He was staring down at me, sweat beaded up on his face. My body was rising again, filling with blood, not unlike his erection.
I had so much to learn, I thought as I slid my fingers underneath his heavy balls. And I couldn’t wait to get started.