Chapter 27 Forbidden Relationships - Chapter 4
The rain drummed against the living room windows, heralding what was to come. Marina snuggled up on the couch, her bare feet tucked under the silk shorts that rose with every shift. The movie playing on the TV was just white noise — she had purposely chosen that cliché romantic comedy, knowing Ricardo would never watch it by himself.
"Pass the remote," he requested, stretching out his hand without tearing his gaze from the screen.
Marina stretched out theatrically, allowing her shorts to ride up a bit further. "I can't reach."
Ricardo sighed and leaned over, his arm brushing against her legs. When his fingers touched the remote, Marina didn't release it.
"Marina..." his voice carried a note of warning.
"What?" she yanked the remote, pulling it towards her. Their faces ended up just inches apart.
He pulled back as if he had been shocked.
Half an hour later, Marina delivered the final blow. She yawned theatrically and let her head drop onto his shoulder.
"Tired?" Ricardo asked, rigid as a board.
"Very," she murmured into his neck, feeling his pulse quicken.
His hand rose in hesitation, hovered in the air, then finally settled on her shoulder. Marina stifled a smile. The touch was too light, too polite — she needed to change that.
Feigning an adjustment, she rubbed her nose against the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent. "You smell so good..."
Ricardo froze. "You should go to bed."
"I don't want to," she whispered, lifting her face.
When he attempted to pull away, she nipped at his lower lip.
"Just this," Marina breathed against his lips. "No one needs to know."
His hand slid from her back down to the curve of her backside, grasping with unexpected possessiveness. The groan that escaped from his throat caused Marina to shiver.
The television continued to project cheerful scenes, ignored, while on the couch, a boundary was crossed with eager tongues and hands. Ricardo turned her around, his large body encompassing hers, his fingers discovering the warm skin beneath her shorts.
"You're going to be the death of me," he growled in her ear.
Marina pressed against him, directing his hand to where she needed it the most. — Only if you allow me.
The movie concluded. They didn't.
Marina felt Ricardo's large hands traversing her body with a blend of desire and hesitation - as if a part of him still believed he could restrain himself at any moment.
"How long have you been contemplating this?" she whispered, pivoting in his lap to face him.
Her knees clenched around his hips, and she felt his firm bulge pressing against her thigh. Ricardo closed his eyes for a moment, as if battling for control.
"We shouldn't..."
"Answer the question," Marina insisted, purposefully pressing herself against him.
A moan escaped his lips before he could respond. "Since that night last summer. You were in a yellow dress."
The memory took Marina by surprise. She remembered that dress - it was short, tight, and he'd spent the entire dinner unable to meet her gaze.
"Did you get turned on just from seeing me in that dress?" Her hands drifted to the waistband of his pants, toying with the button.
Ricardo seized her wrists. "Marina, your mom could come home..."
"She's in São Paulo until Sunday," she replied, freeing one hand to unfasten the button. "And you're already so tempted..."
The zipper slid down with a suggestive noise. When her hand found what it was searching for, Ricardo arched his back with a muffled groan.
"God, you're so hot..." Marina murmured, feeling his quickening pulse against her palm.
Their lips met again, this time without any hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more passionate, with teeth and tongues clashing. Ricardo pressed her against the arm of the couch, his hands finally shedding their shyness to explore every curve beneath the thin fabric.
When his fingers discovered the wetness through her shorts, it was Marina's turn to moan.
"All this wetness just for me?" he growled in her ear, making her tremble.
She responded by grinding against his hand. "You're not going to keep a girl waiting, are you?"
Ricardo didn't respond with words. In a seamless motion, he spun her around and slid down her shorts, revealing her bareness to the faint glow of the television. The cool air against her moist skin caused Marina to shiver.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his thumbs tracing over her most private creases. "All wet for me."
Marina buried her face in the couch cushion as his fingers finally entered her. They were thicker than hers, filling her in a way that caused her muscles to instantly clench.
"Like this, I... I won't last long," she confessed, her words muffled by another moan.
Ricardo curled his fingers inside her, finding the spot that made her cry out. "I want to see you climax first."
The television flickered to a loud commercial, casting bluish flashes over their intertwined bodies. Marina glanced over her shoulder and saw his face - tight with focus, his dark eyes fixed on where his fingers claimed her. The sight was the final push she needed.
Her climax hit her like a freight train, causing her to arch and squirm against him. Ricardo held her tightly, prolonging each wave until she was left weak and trembling.
"Now it's my turn," he whispered, hoisting her as if she were feather-light.
Marina barely had a moment to catch her breath before she found herself on her knees on the floor, with the evidence of her desire right before her eyes. She glanced up through her lashes, catching Ricardo biting his lip in anticipation.
"Show how much you've wanted this," he ordered, threading his fingers through her hair.
She complied, lavishing his entire length with her tongue before taking him entirely. Ricardo's muffled cry was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
Outside, the rain persisted. Inside, neither of them noticed when the movie concluded yet again.