One of his hands leaves my thigh to move up my body, caressing my abdomen. I stop breathing when he reaches my breasts, but he doesn’t touch them, and I’m dying for him to do so. He knows it.
His breathing is heavy in my ear, sending a current of arousal throughout my body. The hand still on my thigh moves up inside my dress, his fingers brush me over my underwear, and I let out a moan.
“Ares . . .”
The rubbing of our bodies has become rougher and more sexual, and I’m thankful for the noise and the darkness that camouflages us. With his hand hidden inside my dress, Ares moves my underwear aside, and I stop breathing in anticipation. His finger probes, slipping into my wetness. I hear him moan in my ear.
“God, you’re killing me.”
His finger penetrates me, and I feel my legs swoon.
This is too much.
He licks my neck, his fingers driving me to madness. I moan when he pulls his hand away, but he grabs my hair, pulling my head back so he can kiss me.
“We need to get out of here,” he murmurs against my lips. “Or I swear I’m going to fuck you right here in front of everyone.”
He takes me by the hand and drags me through the crowd of people. We walk through the darkness of my house quietly, as most of the adults are asleep, and I thank the heavens that Camila and Cecilia haven’t gone to sleep yet because they would be in my room. When we get inside, I barely manage to lock the door before Ares pushes me against it, kissing me desperately.
His hands travel to my breasts and he fondles them, his thumb brushing my nipples through my dress. I stifle a moan of pleasure and tilt my head back. His lips leave mine to kiss my neck, my breasts. His hands slip inside my dress to pull down my underwear. I step out of it and, my vision blurred with desire, watch Ares kneel in front of me, lifting my dress.
“Ares. . . . What . . . ? Ah . . .” his mouth finds me and my head falls back against the door. Ares lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, continuing his attack, sucking, licking, and I cover my mouth to try to control my moans.
I can’t hold out much longer.
“Ares!” I moan on the verge of orgasm, and he continues relentlessly, taking me to the edge of the abyss, and I fall. Streams of pleasure move through my body, making me tremble, closing my eyes, and drowning my moans in the back of my hand. The waves of orgasm leave me with my heart racing and my body sensitive.
Ares stands up, and, before I can say anything to him, he takes me by the hand to the window, and turns me toward it with him behind me.
“Take off your dress.” I obey him; I like it when he gets bossy. “Lean forward.”
I rest my hands on the thick glass of the closed window. I bite my lip, leaning forward, exposing myself for him, which excites me even more.
I hear him unzipping his pants and the anticipation is driving me crazy.
“This window is where it all started, huh?” I hear him say, and my eyes travel to that plastic chair in the yard of his house. “From here, you argued with me that night and look at you now.” His hand caresses my ass. “Exposed, wet, eagerly waiting for me to fuck you.” He gives me a little spank that makes me jump because I wasn’t expecting it. His hand grips my hair, lifting my face, and I see my reflection in the window glass, naked, vulnerable.
I can see him behind me, naked from the waist down, his shirt barely covering him. I can see all of him and I lick my lips. Ares leans over me to murmur in my ear.
“Beg me to fuck you.”
I’m so turned on that I’m not ashamed to beg.
“Please fuck me, Ares, I want . . .”
He doesn’t let me finish and penetrates me with a single thrust, stealing a small scream from me.
My hands slip a little on the glass as he grabs my hips to get as deep as he can.
“Oh God, Ares.”
It feels so good I can barely stand up. With one hand on my hip, he uses the other to caress my breasts, intensifying the sensations all over my body. Being able to see my reflection, and seeing him there behind me fucking me, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, in, out, in, out. The feeling of skin on skin, of his hot manhood inside my wetness is wonderful.
His fingers dig into my hips, and his movements become more desperate and clumsier. I know he’s close to coming, which pushes me toward my second orgasm.
I watch him close his eyes, feel him get even harder inside me, and we come together, moaning and shuddering. That’s where it all started, my breathing out of control, my eyes looking through the window.
FIFTY-FOUR
The Grandpa
- ARES -
Watching her sleep relaxes me.
It gives me a sense of peace and security that I never thought anyone could provide. I run the back of my fingers across her cheek gently, not wanting to wake her, though I know it would take much more than a simple touch for that. Raquel is exhausted. I left her exhausted. A cocky smile forms on my lips, and I wish she could see it so she could joke or tease me about it.
I know she would say something like, arrogant Greek god.
She looks so vulnerable and beautiful in her sleep. Her transparency, the ease with which I can read her, is one of the things that drew me to her. I didn’t have to worry about ulterior motives, lies, or false feelings. She is for real, so clear, and obvious with everything she feels. That’s exactly what I’ve always needed: clarity and honesty. It’s why I can expose myself in this way and allow myself to follow my feelings, release them, and open my heart to her.
I lean over and kiss her forehead.
“I love you,” I whisper. She stirs a little but stays asleep. Watching her sleep makes me feel a little stalker-ish, reminding me of our beginnings.
My little stalker witch.
The one who thought I didn’t know she was stalking me. All those times I acted like I didn’t know she was watching . . .
A knock on the door brings me back to reality. I cover Raquel completely with the sheet and get up, dressing quickly, but I can’t find my shirt, so I open the door without it. Two girls, whom I recognize as Raquel’s cousins, but whose names I can’t remember, look petrified when they see me standing there. Their eyes run up and down my naked torso shamelessly. One of them blushes, sharing a glance with the other.
“My goodness, you’re so hot,” she exclaims.
“Cecilia!” The other girl scolds her. Cecilia bites her lip.
“I’m just telling the truth, Camila. He knows he’s hot, so why deny that we’re dazzled?” she asks. I ignore her compliment.
“I imagine you’re the cousins who are sleeping in Raquel’s room,” I say drily. Camila nods.
“Yeah, we’re sorry to interrupt,” she says. I give her a polite nod in return.
“Don’t worry, come in,” I offer, and Cecilia follows me into the room. “I was just leaving. I need to find my shirt.”
“What’s the point?” she asks. “You look perfect without it.”
Camila grabs her arm.
“Cecilia!” She gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Ceci has had too much to drink.”
“Don’t worry,” I mutter. I pick up my shirt from the floor and lean over to give Raquel a short kiss on the cheek before putting it back on. “Don’t wake her up. She’s exhausted, and it’s been a long day for her.”
“Okay,” Camila agrees.
“Good night,” I say. I walk out into the hallway and head for the stairs.
“Ares,” I hear one of them shout from behind me. I stop and turn to see who’s calling me. Cecilia walks toward me slowly, smiling.
“I . . .”
“What?” I demand. My voice takes on its usual icy, defensive tone.
“I don’t understand,” Cecilia says. “You and her, it doesn’t make sense.”
This girl has no idea how cold and brutally honest I can be. She’s only seen my sweet side; the one that only comes out with Raquel and no one else.
“You don’t have to understand. It has nothing to do with you.”
“I know . . .” She takes another step toward me. “But you’re just so perfect . . . and she’s so . . .”
“Stop.” I warn her. “Be very careful about what you say about her.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything bad.” She pouts.
“The truth is, I’m not the least bit interested in what you have to say,” I cut her off and leave. “Good night.”