Page 28 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

SANTINO

A stillness settles between us as she waits for me to put what I just said into action.

It’s true. Her brother, my best fucking friend, who has treated me like the brother he never had, would absolutely murder me if he knew what’s running through my head right now as I tighten the hold my apron has on his sister’s wrists.

Securing her in place so I can prove to her how sorry I am for letting her think that I didn’t want her, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

I need her.

On my tongue to consume like my last meal.

On my lips to kiss and savor.

I need her suffocating my dick with whatever hole she deems me worthy of.

I need her, more than I’ve needed anything. And I need to make my move.

Right. Fucking. Now.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. Thankful that the usual feelings of guilt and confliction when it comes to how I feel about her are nowhere to be found. Though as I hear my own breath crash into the air, there’s no denying it sounds more like a whimper.

I heard it.

She definitely heard it.

And from the way her bottom lip is gliding between her teeth, she not only heard my primal plead for her… she liked it.

Torn as to where I should start with her first, wanting to do everything to her, I look at her. Studying her cues, letting my imagination build the roadmap I need to do my worst to her, all while making her feel better than anyone has ever made her feel.

“Please, Tino,” she pleads, her voice like smooth silk, wrapping around my dick, bringing it to life. “Don’t tell me you did all this just to leave me hanging again.”

There it is. That one word, again . One simple word that is the equivalent to a loaded gun, shooting a bullet right into my heart with the reminder of how stupid I was for denying her.

“I won’t.” I promise her.

“Yeah, okay.” She scoffs, letting me know she doesn’t believe me. Yet her body tells a different tale as her hips rotate in a circle, grinding against the air in need, wanting me to not tell her but to show her that I won’t leave her hanging. Ever again.

Lowering my head, I find solace in the crevice between her neck and shoulder. Breathing in her scent, my senses become feral, giving me no choice but to begin kissing her delicate skin, warming her up to me.

I plant one slow, concentrated kiss on her shoulder that leads to another, and another, as I make the trek to her neck. In between kisses, I vocalize my promise, giving her every bit of the reassurance she needs and deserves to hear.

“I didn’t say no, because I didn’t want you.”

“Yeah…right,” she breathes as my lips slowly climb from the column of her throat to the side of her neck, nearing her ear.

Lips now teasing her ear lobe, I continue. “I mean it. I said no because…”

She cuts me off, clearing her throat first, trying to maintain a steady voice to combat the patch of prickled bumps now present on her skin. “I’m off-limits right? I still am. In fact, I’m more off-limits now. We work together.”

That we do.

“And live together. Under my brother’s roof, might I add.”

Don’t fucking remind me.

“So, what’s different now, huh? That you got jealous?”

The barbell in my tongue clacks against her earrings as I part my lips to speak, and the sound feels louder somehow that we’re outside of the restaurant, just the two of us, alone, yet with the very potential risk of getting caught at any moment.

Something I don’t give a fuck about. Not when I finally have a chance to redeem myself.

“Yes Lorena, I got jealous, okay. I’ve never liked seeing you with anyone that isn’t…” I swallow thickly, and for a second the air becomes trapped in my lungs, making my mouth feel dry.

Don’t chicken out. Tell her, damn it.

Tell her so you don’t have to witness what you did again.

Fuck it, here goes nothing.

“That isn’t me.” I finally complete my sentence and fuck, did that feel good.

But I’ll be damned, it’s like the confession opened the floodgates because, my lips keep moving, at what feels to be a mile a minute.

I can’t shut up. “That’s the truth. I got jealous because I can’t bear the thought or the sight of you with someone that doesn’t deserve you.

And as stunning of a sight as it was to see you on your knees for me, so willing and ready to stain my cock with that lipstick you always wear that drives me wilder than you’ll ever know, I said no because I wanted first dibs. ”

“Dibs?” She laughs. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, but often the truth does.

“Yes. Dibs. I always envisioned that if we’d cross the line that we’ve been flirting with for years, it’d start with my tongue buried in that sweet pussy of yours,” I admit, sliding my thumb onto the power switch of the vibrator I almost forgot I had.

A faint buzz emerges. It’s intensified by the sound of her wet center vibrating against the silicone.

Fuck , she’s so wet.

For me.

Not for him.

And if I play my cards right, she’ll be wet like this for me and me only.

My lips graze hers as one hand travels up to where her arms are captured in the makeshift cuffs on her wrists, pinning them against the brick further, while my other hand, the one with the remote, plays with the settings, paying special attention to how her body responds to each one.

Four clicks in, I think it’s safe to say I found a tempo she likes.

It’s a slow buildup, patterned with a quick pulse crescendo, before it dulls and starts over again. Almost mimicking the song I was playing on repeat on the drive to the restaurant, Mine by Sleep Token.

The rhythm implants itself in my head, as does the lyrics, as I think to myself, how perfect that song is for how I feel for her.

Because after how long I’ve waited, I’ll be damned if I don’t make her mine.

“Feel good?” I ask, reveling in how stunning she looks with her golden skin becoming increasingly flushed, as whimper after whimper she’s trying her hardest to stifle but can’t, slips past her lips.

It feels surreal to see her so lost in pleasure, with me so close to her.

It’s everything I could’ve ever imagined.

I’m rock hard just by being able to witness those beautiful, lust-filled eyes on me, while her body prepares itself for what will be the first of many orgasms I will give her tonight.

One to make up for Miami, another to make up for the scene I made tonight, and a third, maybe more, to make up for the years I’ve denied us both of what this is.

“Yes,” she pants. “But…”

I silence her with a kiss. There are a million things we should be saying right now.

Like ‘stop’ , ‘we can’t’ , ‘this is wrong’ .

But I don’t want to lay down the opportunity for either of us to say anything that will put a stop to this.

I’m already in too deep. Too focused on the noises we are making, of our panted breaths and moans that mesh together as one.

Her lips are soft and pliable beneath mine, but she doesn’t return the gesture in the way I had hoped. Where my lips are moving with desperation, and longing, hers are caught between the tremble of desire, and the pulling of hesitancy.

Stubborn, I part her lips for her with my tongue. Giving them a similar attention as I will her clit, once the first orgasm settles in. But still, she doesn’t reciprocate.

Am I crazy?

Have I been reading the signs wrong all these years, because I’m the one who wants her and not the other way around?

I push my feelings to the side, sensing her release drawing near.

“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” I murmur into her mouth, not ready or willing to remove my lips from hers.

But I can see that the hesitation from before has now traveled to her face.

So, to ease whatever worries she has, and to help repair my ego preemptively before she shatters it — deservingly, but still — I bring the hand with the remote to her cheek, stroking it gently up and down.

“You are about to come, aren’t you?” Keeping with the setting she likes, I amp up the speed just enough that it earns me a yelp from her before she nods her head in compliance.

“Atta girl. Don’t overthink. Just relax. Let me make you feel good.”

The fact that I’m aware of how confident I sound right now scares me, because I feel like I’m breaking apart on the inside.

I feel so pathetically desperate for her to not only come, but to somehow convince her that I should be the only one to make her do so.

Consequences be damned. Work and personal.

All of it can fuck off. I don’t care. Maybe tomorrow I will, when the dust settles, but right now, all I care about is her coming repeatedly… for me.

As my lips near hers again, she turns her head away from me, breaking my already fragile heart in the process. Before I can say anything, she drives her tied hands down and around my neck pulling me closer.

I hang in the balance, the pressure she’s adding to my neck bringing a welcome burn, especially as she cries out in pleasure, riding the audible wave of her orgasm. The sweet, sultry notes echoing all around us in the alleyway.

“More,” she begs, applying pressure to my shoulders, that gives me the cue to fall to my knees. A position I’ll gladly assume.

As I do, the remote drops to the ground, and I use the newfound freedom both of my hands have to skate my palms underneath her skirt.

The smoothness of her skin sends chills down my spine. I’ve waited so long for this moment, I don’t want something like the fabric of her skirt to be in my way, blocking my view of what I already know will be the prettiest pussy I’ll ever lay eyes on.

First thing is first, I bunch the fabric in my hands, hiking it all the way up until I can take the hemline and tuck it into the waistband.