Page 49 of The Vows We Keep
I’m not sure where all those words came from, but before I can process whatever the fuck just spewed out of my mouth, Catalina is in my arms, her legs around my waist, and she does as I ask.
All thoughts of dead bodies and Bates and the conversation I need to have with my president tumble from my mind, until all that’s left is the scent of this woman in my arms and the feel of her lips against mine.
I carry her down the hallway to my bedroom, kicking the door shut with my boot.
There is a fleeting rumble in my brain that I should be gentle because she’s precious, but as Catalina’s lips torch my own, I know that isn’t how either of us wants this. The door rattles on its hinges as I slam her back against it. Her hands slide into my hair, and mine grip her ass. Our tongues fight as we gasp for breath.
Clothing meant for riding is impossible to remove without putting her feet firmly on the floor, so I lower her.
It takes us a minute or two to get naked. Boots are kicked off. Weapons are removed as quickly as safety allows. And I watch her ass as she shimmies out of her underwear. She has the kind of ass that’s lush and smooth. I grab a fistful of her hair and kiss her again as I deftly pop the clasp on her bra.
Catalina tastes like all the good things I’ve missed out on. Everyone else I’ve ever been with is dull compared to the diamond sparkling in my room.
We tumble onto my bed, a mess of limbs fighting to get as close to each other as anatomically possible. My tattooed body contrasts her smooth olive-toned skin.
Nothing I do feels close enough. I want to climb inside her. Own her from the inside out.
Crawling down her body, I lick and kiss and nip her skin. Catalina tenses and gasps as I do. It suddenly strikes me that I should check if this is what she wants, even though she threw herself into my arms.
“You want me to stop, you tell me, yeah?” I say.
I glance up at her, those wide eyes of hers looking straight back at me. She nods and falls backward onto my pillow.
When I reach her clit, I lap my tongue over it. Catalina’s fingers dig into the sheets and grip hard.
When I do it again, her whole-body jackknifes off the bed.
I ease my tongue inside her, licking as far as I can reach. She tastes so fucking good, I want to stay here and eat her all night. But even as I think it, my cock throbs against the sheets.
Sliding my hands along her thighs, I push them wider apart. “You’re so wet. I want to swallow all of it.”
Catalina’s hand snakes into my hair, holding it tightly. Usually, I don’t like that shit, but with Catalina, it feels like an ownership of sorts. That she wants what only I can give her.
Her hips shift, grinding her pussy against my face. I inhale her musk, swallow it, digest it.
Lick after confident lick, I eat her, ignoring the dull ache in my balls and the urge to come deep inside her. I want her orgasm more than I need relief of my own. I want this to be so good, she’ll keep coming back to me to get it. The more ways I can chain her to me, the better, and I don’t give a fuck if people think that’s morally wrong.
I cup her breast, then tug on her nipple. Her body spasms around me.
“Ah, fuck,” I mumble. “Come on my tongue for me, cariño.”
And she does, like a lightning strike hits her body. Every part of her tenses, and she cries out loudly.
“Dios mío.” Her words are husky, rough.
When she finally releases her hold on my hair, I climb to my knees and grab a condom from the bedside table. When I have it on, I position myself by her slippery entrance. Her lips are puffy, her clit no longer hooded. It’s a visual designed to send me careening into an orgasm before I even wet my cock.
We both groan as I nudge the tip inside her. The way I stretch her threatens my sanity. I try to focus on something else, anything that will take away the rush of sensations I suddenly feel.
I want this woman.
Easing farther into her, I feel my chest constrict. It’s unfamiliar.
I cup her ass, holding her in place as I take what I need from her. “Does this feel as good for you?” I ask her, needing to know it works for her too.
Her palms cup my cheeks, an unexpected tenderness. “Better,” she gasps.
I lean forward and kiss her with more meaning than I’m used to.
