Page 41 of Watch Me

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He pushes through a door, out into a bright hall, past the open door to security. Laughing and clapping ensues from the crew inside the office, and I bury my head in his neck.

“I’m naked!” I shriek.

“They just watched us on camera. They’re not seeing anything they haven’t already seen. Which is another reason I want you all to myself.”

I don’t have the chance to speak again before Alejandro opens another door and lets it slam behind him. Now it’s dark, and Southern California’s summer evening sky shimmers all around us in a velvet hush. Frogs and crickets hum in the sultry breeze. The lights of the city beyond the hills twinkle and wink as far as I can see.

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“The fact that I would rather look at you should tell you how I feel about your beauty.”

I snap my gaze up to his. No smile. His stare is full of gravity—and rising need.

“Alejandro, maybe we should talk about?—”

“No. Tonight is about you and me. No conversation, no people, no blackmail, no cameras. I need to feel you like I’ve never needed anyone or anything before.”

I gape, totally unable to deny the breathless rush of joy at his words. Does he…care about me?

There’s no time to ponder the answer before he spirits me through the intimate cocoon of the hushed night, into his cottage, and straight to his bed. In the shadow, I can make out its straight lines and modern flair. It’s big, dark, and exotic—just like the man.

Then his mattress is at my back, and he grabs the empty cuff dangling from my wrist, and I expect him to attach it to his bed so he has me at his mercy.

Instead, he attaches the cuff to his own wrist.

We’re joined. Together. Bound.

“Alejandro?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tosses the handcuff key somewhere on the floor, far out of reach, then covers my mouth with his own.

I expect his ravenous hunger, a hard-edged boom-fast-now sort of touch. I’m shocked instead by his soft insistence. His kiss is seduction itself. Thorough, unhurried. Slow, deep. Unabashedly intimate, as he conveys his every want, speaks with his soul, communicates only using his mouth.

It’s impossible not to fall under his spell.

A new ribbon of desire ties my stomach in knots as he trails hot kisses across my cheek, then down lower. He exhales against my neck, close to my ear, stirring sensitive skin. I shiver as his lips caress me, brand me. He sweeps a fingertip down the arch of my throat and nips at my lobe.

“Necesito tocarte, tu cara, tu piel. Tu corazón.”

I have no idea what his words mean, but they melt me. In that moment, whatever he wants, I want, too.

“Tell me…”

He doesn’t right away. Instead, he sweeps his mouth over mine again. The tangle of breaths, lips, tongues become a deliberate kiss of endless hunger. Eloquent, shockingly sexual as the fingers of his free hand sift into my hair, curling possessively around the strands. Sizzlingly intimate as he tears his mouth from mine to stare, penetrating me with eyes like burning coals in the pitch of night. Ensnared, I can’t look away.

“I said that I need to touch you, your face, your skin. Your heart.”

Something shocked and joyous bursts inside me. I gasp, and Alejandro swallows the sound with another drugging kiss.

With every brush of his lips, every glide of his hot palm, every male moan he pours into my mouth, he rips past my barriers until I open completely to him—parting my lips wider to accept more of his possession, clutching one hard shoulder with my free hand to keep him near, spreading my thighs to invite him inside. I sigh when his narrow hips fit right into the curve of my body as if he’s been made to fill me.

“Yes.” I arch under him, unable to hold anything back.

He nestles his free hand under the curve in my back, keeping my breasts and the damp heat of my skin against him.

“Yo te tocaré toda la noche. Cada parte de ti conocerá mis caricias.”

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