Page 139 of Raspados & Regret
His mother.
Both of us freeze.
His mouth stays around me while my soul leaves my body. Elías’s eyes lift to mine.
Wide, then amused.
The bastard is amused.
I stare down at him, horrified and so hard I might die.
He slowly pulls off, only enough to answer, his voice too normal for a man on his knees with spit dripping down his chin.
“Sí, Ma. Just getting more cups.”
A pause.
My whole body turns to stone.
Then his mother says in a tone that sounds like she definitely doesn’t believe him, “Hurry up.”
Elías waits until her footsteps fade, then he looks up at me and whispers, “You heard her; you better hurry up.”
I nearly come right there. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“You like when I say shit like that.”
“I like when your mouth’s filled with my dick.”
His eyes go dark.
Oh.
I said that out loud.
He smiles and dives back down.
There is no easing back in. No mercy. His mouth takes me fast and wet, his hand twisting at the base, tongue working around the metal like he has made a study of ruining me. My head falls back and my fingers tighten in his hair, not pushing, just holding on because if I don’t, I may evaporate into the syrup-sweet air.
“Elías,” I whisper.
His eyes flick up, and I can feel the smile in his mouth around me.
That nearly does it; I almost come because of his attitude.
“You’re too good at this.”
He hums and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.
The ring.
His tongue.
His throat.
The wet sound of him taking me, obscene and impossible under the market noise. I’m gone. Done for, every argument in my head scattering.
Work. Who gives a fuck about what they think.
