I let my eyes fall shut, and I lose myself in the sensations. In him. In this man who knows my body almost better than I do; who constantly surprises me with the way he touches me, firm yet gentle at the same time, like I’m something precious and important.
When he pulls away to switch his mouth to my other breast, and his hand to the one he just tongued, he pauses to catch my eye, a playful glint in his. “Still feeling okay?” he asks, that one eyebrow arched, and I smile at him, unable to contain it, how happy this man makes me.
“Oh, much better than okay,” I assure him.
His grin widens. “Good.” Then his mouth closes over my other breast, and I’m lost in the sensations all over again.
True to his word, Antonio takes his time. When he’s finished making me arch and moan, trying to press my breast against his lips more firmly, he kisses his way down to my stomach, that same tongue flicking in and out of my navel in a slow, teasing motion, before he bites me, just hard enough to make me gasp.
And then his hands are on the clasp of my jeans, and I forget about anything except the heavy weight between my thighs, practically pulsing with want. God, I’ve never been this turned on before. “Antonio,” I breathe, and he pauses, which makes me want to scream. But then he rests his chin on my belly, tilts his eyes up to mine.
“I told you, Selena. Every inch of you.” With those words fresh on his tongue, his hands finish undoing my jeans button. He pushes them down my hips, which I lift up off the couch cushion to help him, eager to have them off and discarded.
He peels them off my legs one at a time, as if he’s unwrapping a present. To judge by the expression on his face, one of nearly awed glee, I suppose he is. Maybe that’s how he views me, like a gift.
It wouldn’t surprise me, because that’s how I’m starting to think of him. I have no idea where this man came from, or why I feel so comfortable and relaxed around him. Why I trust him more than I trust just about anyone else I’ve ever met.
Why I’m starting to fall for him.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, it’s so sudden and intense. But it softens as Antonio continues to kiss me, his tongue tracing over the thin lace fabric of my panties, then down, down my thighs, past my knees to my calves, my ankles. He licks the arch of one of my feet, making me shiver, and then he shifts over to do the same to my other foot, until I feel like a puddle is forming between my thighs.
When he sucks one of my toes into his mouth playfully, smirking at me while his tongue toys with my toe, I relax into that knowledge. The same way I relaxed against Antonio earlier, when he held me after I finally opened up to him, finally bared my soul and told him everything.
It’s okay to fall for him. It’s okay to let myself feel something again. To be happy again. He’s right. It’s what my brother would have wanted for me. Daniel wouldn’t want me to live my whole life locked inside my apartment, barely able to function, barely able to step inside a moving vehicle.
He’d want me to be my old self, as much as possible. He’d want me to fall back in love with driving. To have a fancy car like the many that Antonio has parked in his garage. To learn to tune it up myself and care for it, the way Antonio has offered to teach me how to do.
Daniel would want me to live life to the fullest. And that includes letting myself find love. Letting myself be open to falling, and no longer afraid of what might happen if I let somebody into my life, to share it with me.
Antonio traces his tongue up the backs of my calves now, then turns my leg so he can lick behind my knees, making me laugh and shiver a little at the same time. When he reaches my calves, he bites down gently, like I’m an apple he’s savoring.
“God, you’re so fucking soft,” he whispers, and his breath tickles just as much as his tongue does, tracing higher and higher, closer to the burning heat at my core.
By the time he makes it all the way back up to the arch where my thighs meet my hip bones, I can tell that I’m soaking wet, even before he trails that sexy fucking tongue of his along the outline of my panties. Then he catches the fabric of those panties in his teeth, and tugs them down, using only his mouth, and my belly clenches, my pussy feeling tight with want, because fuck.
He drops my panties beside us, and smirks up at me once more. “Someone’s eager.”
“Fucking dying here,” I blurt, before I can catch myself. But it just makes him laugh softly and lean back down to press his face against my stomach, kissing my belly, his 5 o’clock stubble raspy against my soft skin.
“Good. You scream louder whenever I tease you before making you come.” He winks at me.
My whole body blushes this time, I swear. “How do you know me this well already?” I grumble, but he takes it as a compliment clearly, because he chuckles, delighted.
Right before he leans down to run his tongue along my shaven mound. “What can I say? I love paying attention to you, Selena.” He shifts lower, pushes my legs apart so he can lie between them. His beard scratches at my upper thighs now, as his lips inch closer and closer to my throbbing, aching clit. “I love studying your every breath, your every reaction.”
To emphasize his point, he runs his tongue right over my clit, unexpectedly after all this slow teasing. I gasp and arch up off the couch, my hands dropping to wind through his hair.
He chuckles softly, and his breath feels white hot against my wet pussy. “You’re an even more fascinating puzzle than the cars I work on, and you know that’s saying something for me.”
I laugh faintly, mostly because my breath is still coming fast and hard, and it’s difficult for me to concentrate, let alone form coherent words. “Coming from you, that’s practically a proposal,” I joke, and then I freeze, because of what I just said. Most guys would sprint out the door at that word.
But Antonio just smirks at me, taking it in stride. “Oh, you’ll know when I propose to you,” he says, and the way he rolls with it, the way he just so confidently agrees that will happen one day, warms me from the inside out, far more than any orgasm ever has or could.
Then I’m distracted all over again, because he leans down to press his tongue between the folds of my pussy, licking and sucking along the length of my slit, like he can’t get enough of my taste.
“You like that?” he murmurs, before he presses his tongue right up against my entrance.
I can’t even answer, because a long, low moan escapes my throat, at the same moment that my hands tighten into fists in his hair, desperate.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says softly, chuckling, before he presses his whole mouth against the lips of my pussy, his tongue spreading them wide as he laps along my slit again and again.
One of my hands falls away from his head, and I grip the upholstery of couch beneath me instead, my hand balled in a tight fist, as my other hand pulls Antonio’s face against my pussy, my hips arching up to grind against his mouth.
He extends his tongue like a blade then, and runs the tip around my entrance, seeking, exploring. Then he pushes it inside me, and I wrap my legs around his head, my own head falling back against the arm of the couch as I lose myself to the pleasure.
“Fuck yes,” I hear myself gasping. “Right there, Antonio, fuck.”
He moves his tongue slow and steady, in and out of me, curling and licking at my walls with each stroke. I could lose my mind, it feels so good, especially after all of his long, slow teasing. Finally, just when I think I can’t possibly stand this any longer, he pulls back to drag his tongue right over my clit.
I’m already so swollen with want, so balanced on a knife’s edge, that it only takes one stroke to get me right there. “Fuck, I’m going to come, I’m so close.”
“Come for me, baby,” he breathes, his breath hot against my pussy, and then he’s licking me faster, his tongue pressing right into my clit.
A wild cry escapes my throat, not even words, just sound, as I dig my fist into his hair, curl my toes, my whole body arching up into his. His hands slide un
der me, gripping my ass tightly, pinning my hips to his face as he keeps licking me, even as I start to shake, the orgasm exploding through my body.
My vision turns spotty, and I see in multicolor, as my whole body trembles. My pussy contracts on its own, clenching and releasing. Then Antonio shifts to press his tongue inside me again, and I cry out as the waves of pleasure carry on and on.
By the time he finally kisses his way back up my trembling body to my lips, I can hardly catch my breath. But at the same time, a pleasant warmth spreads through me, starting all the way at my fingertips and working inward, up my arms and legs, back into my core.
Antonio lies along my body, still fully clothed, and kisses me hard and deep. So hard that I can taste myself on his tongue, my juices wet and wanting.
Then I reach down and wrap a fist in his T-shirt, tugging it up and over his head without giving him time to protest. I grin up, and pull him down against me, my chest crushed against his hard, solid one, my fingers tracing the muscles of his back, his shoulders, around to the washboard abs that I cannot get enough of.
“Now I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eyes, and we’re pressed so tightly together that I’m rewarded by the jump in his pulse, his heart beating harder and faster as he gazes down at me, hearing me say those words.
“Whatever you command, Princess,” he whispers, winking, and my heart skips too, remembering the first time he called me that, and how much it pissed me off.
Now, I’d give anything to hear him call me that over and over again. All night long.
It’s funny what a single week can change. How much a person can become to you, in barely any time at all.
When Antonio finally pushes down his jeans and spreads my thighs, I’m already soaking wet, trembling with anticipation. And when he pushes himself inside me in one long, slow stroke, it feels like coming home again. He fills me, makes me ache all the way to my core, but it’s a hot, sweet ache. One that I want to savor.
I wrap my thighs around his waist, and he presses down against me, closer, until our bodies are locked in a tight embrace, no space between us. When he pulls back out of me, a little moan of protest escapes my lips, without my even meaning to. But it doesn’t last long, before his hips arch against mine once more, and he slides back into me, his cock thick and hard inside my hungry pussy.
“Antonio,” I breathe, and then his lips are there, catching mine, even before the word has fully left my mouth.
“Selena,” he whispers against my mouth, before he kisses me, harder. At the same time he rocks those hips, back and then forward again, thrusting deep inside me as my legs tighten around him, his chest digging into my own.
I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, and then he thrusts again, his cock pressing over my G-spot, making me dig my nails into his shoulder blades without even thinking about it. He lets out a little growl now, and dips to kiss my jawline, my neck. He bites me, just hard enough to make me gasp, and at the same time, he starts to pick up the pace, thrusting faster, deeper.
I lose all sense of time and space. I forget about everything but his touch, his cock inside me, his hands gripping my hips, my ass. His lips and tongue, kissing me, licking me, tasting me.
The orgasm takes me by surprise, creeping up on me when I don’t expect it. I cry out, my head falling back, and he runs his tongue down the length of my throat, still thrusting into me, his hips angled so his cock drags along my front walls, right over that sweet spot, again and again.
Then he slides one hot, rough palm between us, down, down, until his fingertip grazes my clit. He fingers me, still thrusting into me at the same time, and it’s more than my sensitive clit can stand. I cry out again, coming for the second time, feeling my pussy contract around his shaft, pulsing, uncontrolled.
My vision sparks, and my fingernails rake across Antonio’s back. I couldn’t help doing it if I tried; I’m barely even conscious of what my body is doing now, shaking with the force of that orgasm.
“God I love when you come for me,” he growls, lips on my neck, then back at my jawline, searching for my mouth.
I turn and kiss him hard, my hands fisted in his hair. “I want to feel you come now,” I breathe, my lips inches from his. “Come for me, Antonio.”
It doesn’t take him long. He repositions himself above me, grips my hips tightly, with purpose, and starts to fuck me harder, faster. I let myself go, my hips loose against his, arched up so he can have all the control, so he can take me just the way he wants me. His cock pounds into me, again, again, until I can feel his muscles tensing, his breath getting louder and faster.
I wind one hand through his hair and pull his face back to mine, catching him in a deep, hot kiss, just as his climax hits. He groans into my mouth, and the sound undoes me, the sight of him losing control turning me on so badly I can hardly stand it.
Because I do this to him. I make him come undone, the same way he makes me lose my mind.
When he finally stops moving against me, and comes to relax against me instead, both of our bodies feel loose and soft. He slides off of me, curling onto the couch next to me, and pulling my body against his, so we’re flush together, sharing body heat, our sweat slicked together.
He kisses my shoulder, the nape of my neck. I shiver, and he grins, one arm coming to rest around my waist. “You’re perfect,” he whispers against my hairline. “You know that, right?”
I laugh. “Hardly,” I mumble. But to my surprise, he catches my jawline, tilts my face back in order to make me meet his gaze over my shoulder.
Staring at me, his eyes dead serious, he repeats himself. “You’re perfect for me, Selena. That’s all I care about.”
My heart skips in my chest, and I hold his gaze, my pulse wild in my veins. “Antonio…” As we lie there gazing at one another, I realize something. Something I haven’t been letting myself think about; something that I’ve been avoiding with all my heart. But it’s something I need to do, if I’m ever going to overcome this. If I’m ever going to get better.
I pull my lower lip between my teeth, worrying it, and he glances down, a little frown of confusion appearing between his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern filling those dark eyes of his.
I swallow hard and force myself to keep my gaze on his. Because looking at him gives me strength. Reminding me of what we are to one another is what’s giving me the courage to say this. To do this. “I need your help with something,” I whisper.
13
Selena
My heart races so fast I’m surprised Antonio can’t hear it beating from where he’s sitting, two feet away from me. In the passenger seat of Betty, the car I helpfully nearly ruined just a little over two weeks ago.
It’s taken me a long time to build up to this moment. An embarrassingly long time, frankly. But with Antonio next to me, being patient as hell with me while I work through this, I’m finally starting to feel like maybe… maybe I can handle it.
We started small last week. Just me sitting here, right where I am now, in the driver’s seat. Then just me sitting here with the engine turned on — even though at first I had to leave the radio turned on high to drown out my own panicked thinking, to mask the sound of the engine as much as possible.
After that, we graduated to what Antonio tried to have me do last time — steering the car while he was out behind it, pushing me in neutral. I may or may not have panicked and braked a few times unnecessarily, leading him to smack into the car from behind with a groan. But after a few tries and a few more bruises for him, I got the hang of that too. Of feeling the car move beneath me without freaking out. Of gripping the wheel in my hands and steering my way around the parking lot of the garage.
Now, though, Antonio has told me it’s time. Time to try the real thing again.
My heart flutters in my throat, my pulse skittering and anxious at the thought of what I’m about to do. My hand rests on the gear shift. I’m not ready to turn the key jus
t yet.
“Just remember, take it slow,” Antonio murmurs from the seat beside me. “You can always stop, anytime it feels like too much.”
I nod my head, trying to concentrate on the familiar, deep rhythm of his voice, rather than the spiraling thoughts in my mind, chasing after one another, working into a frenzy. This is dangerous, the car is dangerous, you’re in danger, remember last time.
Over and over, those repetitive thoughts attack me, making me flash back to the night of the accident. To the broken glass, the crunch of metal. To my brother, unresponsive in the seat beside me — the very seat where I’m sitting now, as he bled from his forehead.
He was already dead, though I didn’t know it then. It took me days to accept it. Even longer to realize, deep down, that he was never coming back.
Tears burn at the backs of my eyelids and threaten to fall. But I suck in a deep breath, trying to hold them in at the same time, and reach up to grip the key. It feels cool between my thumb and forefinger. Solid and reassuring.
I turn it. The engine grumbles to life. But I still sit there, gripping the key, my mind a million miles and many years away.
A warm touch brushes the back of my palm. I glance over to find Antonio watching me closely. His gaze dips to my cheeks, and only then do I realize that I started crying.
I reach up to scrub the tears away with the heel of my hand, scowling.
“It’s okay to cry,” he says quietly. “It’s normal. You’re confronting something you’ve been hiding from for a long time.”
A lump forms in my throat. But I can’t explain what those words mean to me. How good it sounds to hear him say that. It’s okay. It makes me smile, in spite of the tears that continue to fall. He’s right. It’s just me and Antonio here. I feel safe around him, able to open up and be vulnerable.
So, even though the tears don’t stop, I reach down and step on the brake with one foot, feeling the rumble of the engine travel up through my legs, deep into my core. And then, still gripping the wheel tightly in both hands, as though it’s a lifeline I’m at risk of falling without holding onto, I take a deep breath. Another. Another.
Work Me Up Page 12