Page 72 of Miguel

She swallowed, and I could see her gears turning as she tried to think of an argument.

“The women will always be there,” I confessed. “They’ve always been there, and I won’t promise that I’ll kick them out, because I can’t. Not unless they do something really out of pocket like betray us or try to fight the viejitas. But shit with them was boring long before you ever came into the picture. Partying, a new woman every night? Shit gets old fast. I don’t want that anymore.”

I didn’t mention the fact that one of the club putas had already fought Xiomara. More accurately, Xiomara had wiped the floor with Yasmín on more than one occasion. The club puta was still there, because Ink and Xiomara were into that toxic shit and didn’t want to kick her out. She spiced up their sex life or some shit like that.

“Then whatdoyou want, Miguel?”

“You.” The answer was raw, honest. “And if you give me a chance, I will prove to you every day for the rest of our lives that I’m the one for you. I’ll be your protector, your lover, your everything. Do you understand?”

She was quiet. I could see the war behind her eyes. The terror she had of giving in.

“I want you to be my Vieja. That’s what I want. I want to fuck you on this couch, fill you with my cum so we can both have the family we want.”

Her breath stuttered, her chest hitched. There were a few beats of silence, measured by the pounding of her heart.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

And still she was quiet.

“Do you want me on my knees, Lorena? Because if begging is what it takes to have you, then I’ll lay worship at your feet.”

She gasped at my words, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I snapped forward to devour her. My hand squeezed her throat, the move almost involuntary. I didn’t ease up my grip, because Lorena moaned against my mouth. The sound shot straight to my cock, and I felt the tip weeping, desperate for her.

But I wanted to worship her. I wanted to fuck her body, wreck her soul, make it so she’d give in, ruin her for anyone else, and never leave me.

I pulled away and she followed, a whimpering sound of protest leaving her throat. I chuckled right before I dropped to my knees before her. My body in between her legs widened her stance. She stared down at me, her hair frizzing and plastering against her temples and cheeks. She took her plump lip in between her teeth, brutalizing the tender flesh as she watched me.

“I’m going to suck this pussy,” I promised. “And I’m going to make you see the fucking stars.”

She gasped, hands slapping down against my shoulders. Her hips pistoned up and I chuckled, pressing her back down against the cushions of the couch.

“Calma,” I whispered before reaching for the fly of her jeans. I worked the button and slid the zipper down. I moved slowly, letting the anticipation of what I was about to do build between us. Once I revealed the lace of her panties, I gripped the waist of her jeans. “Lift.” She obeyed, lifting her hips up as I tugged them down her legs. After maneuvering myself, I was able to get her shoes and jeans off.

I settled comfortably back in between her legs, hands sliding up the underside of her thighs and lifting, setting her ankles on either shoulder. She watched my careful ministrations of her body, fingers grazing over her soft skin.

Touching her was an addiction.

I pressed my cheek to her calf, kissing my way over her flesh, causing her to shiver with every pass of my lips against her. My mouth and fingers moved in tandem, swiping gently over skin, trying to cover every inch I possibly could.

I inched my way up her leg, pressing wet kisses against her knees and to the tender flesh underneath. I memorized the soft sighs of pleasure she let out, vowing I’d make her scream herself hoarse by the end of this.

I nipped, sucked, and kissed, leaving behind red marks against her light, freckled skin. Soon, she was mewling, her hips gyrating in soft, subtle movements. I kissed her inner thighs, alternating from one and then the other.

When I reached the spot where the lace of her panties met the upper part of her leg, I stopped.

“Miguel,” she groaned, wiggling beneath me.

I pinned her down with my body. “Don’t move, nena,” I urged. “I want to take my time with you.”

She huffed out a breath. “I need–I need you.”

I rewarded the words with a kiss over her mound. I could taste her through the material, and a groan slipped out of me. I wanted to bury my face between her legs just then, the urge gripping me like a strike of lightning down my spine. I held myself back, though. This wasn’t a moment for teasing, but I couldn’t help it just a little bit, edging her until she was begging, right before I made her mine.

My tongue dipped out, the tip sliding over the material of her panties, digging into her warmth. It was enough to have her jerking her hips against my mouth, silently demanding more.

---