“Fuck me,” I rasped out, staring unblinkingly up at him.
Emilio stiffened. “Isa, you don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to prove something. You just went through a horrible event and aren’t thinking clearly.”
Once more, self-consciousness gnashed its sharp teeth into my gut.
Other people’s words ricocheted in my head.
I had too many curves. I wasn’t a typical beauty. No one would ever love me.
I redirected my gaze to the room—the opulent space, the dark velvet colors, the two guns on the dresser, a window with the blinds pulled shut. I was on the second floor, but maybe I could make my escape through it?
Emilio squeezed my face with his large, sturdy hands, the pads of his thumbs stroking my cheeks gently. “Stop whatever is going through that beautiful mind of yours. I want you more than anything. But you just went through something traumatic, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Those were the words he said, but I felt his length stiffen against my belly, pressing into me.
His arousal ignited my own.
“Please?” With renewed confidence and just the right amount of bravery, I raised onto my tiptoes, stretching up and yanking him down.
I could tell I had shocked him, that he hadn’t expected it.
It was the only reason my move worked.
I smashed my lips to his.
He tasted metallic. Bitter. With a harsh bite.
I love it.
He was still for a moment, but then his soft lips moved against mine. His hands exploring.
One found my hair, tangling into it, pulling me closer.
The other to my ass, gripping it tightly, causing sparks of electricity to shoot directly to the heat furling in my belly.
I dove further into him, willing him to take away the pain that still flooded me, the uneasiness that wound so tight in my heart I could barely breathe. In this moment, I delivered everything I felt into the kiss, and he accepted it. He allowed me to seize control, to create this moment the way I needed to, to alter my first kiss.
If anyone asked? This would be it. My first sexual encounter.
He would be the permanent marker I used to black out Sebastian York.
The desire and pleasure I felt, the warmth of his hands as he held me to him, the way he let me dominate.
The odd feeling that this was where I belonged, the passion that engulfed my heart, the inferno threatening to light me on fire.
Emilio didn’t push back; he just allowed me to take. And take.And take.Our tongues danced an entire song before I separated breathlessly.
“Please?” I begged again.
Darkness shrouded Emilio’s face, but he jerked his head in a nod. “Yes, but I can’t promise you anything. My world isn’t safe for you.”
My attention again found the two guns, a testament to his warning. However, we were graduating in two weeks, and after the summer, I was determined to move away. This incident solidified that.
“Until the end of summer?” I asked, watching him carefully.
Unmistakable agony etched across Emilio’s face, his lips curving downwards into a frown, his forehead creasing, a wrinkle forming between his brow, but he nodded his agreement.
He untangled himself from me, stepping back, and his frown twisted to a confident smile. His hypnotizing eyes held mine while he shed his clothes. In a flash of motion, he ripped his crimson-stained white T-shirt off. While he was lanky and his face hadn’t lost all of its youth, it was easy to tell that he was unmistakably muscular. Especially shirtless. My hand advanced on its own accord, tracing the tattoo over his heart.