"Do you have any other tattoos?" I hummed, dragging my finger across his clothed chest in circular motions. He nodded. "Where?" I replied, interested.
I lifted myself from his chest as he started to move to roll his pant leg up, revealing a koi fish on his shin, one red and one black. "It looks like the Yin and Yang sign." I commented, staring at it's beautiful design. He nodded.
"My version." He winked. I rolled me eyes. "The good and the bad in everything." He said nonchalantly, staring out the window. Probably pondering the odd beginning of July rain storm happening just beyond the giant slab of glass that protected us from the world. He turned and lifted his shirt, revealing a huge black tree splayed across his muscled back with detailed twists and vines. It was an intricate weeping willow. I sat up, placing my legs around his waist. I began to trace the pattern,
"The letters?" I questioned, still running my finger down his spine, once I reached the bottom of the piece I noticed some fallen leaves with letters in them as well.
"It's a family tree. The fallen leaves are those that have passed." He replied, already answering my next question.
"It's beautiful." I said, realizing how time consuming and painful this must have been. And how painful it must be to add leaves to it every time someone in your family dies. "A bit morbid, but still beautiful." He chuckled then shuttered under my wandering fingers. He reached around and pulled my legs tighter around his waist hoisting me on his back before standing up and walking out of the room. I giggled.
"Beau, what are you doing?"
"We're going to get food I'm starving." He replied over his shoulder, walking us to his kitchen. I unwrapped my legs from his torso once I felt the cold granite counter touch my ass.
"What are you making?"
"We." He corrected. I'm sure my horrified expression was very amusing considering the lopsided grin that erupted across his face.
"Beau, I can't cook. I don't keep the major food groups in my fridge. I don't even know what the major food groups are." I said, knowing full well how childish I sounded to him. He rolled his eyes at me before opening the fridge. I hopped off the counter to peer over his shoulder. His shelves were stocked to the brim. I scoffed.
"Well we cant all be well adjusted adults." I muttered to myself.
"I heard that." He said, pulling chicken out of the freezer. "We're gonna make tacos." He stated.
"Sounds easy? Where are your taco shells?" I asked. He quirked an eyebrow at me, he signature expression.
"No. No taco shells." He laughed. I looked at him, puzzled. He sighed, "Street tacos? Corn tortillas? You're so white." He muttered. I laughed slapping his shoulder.
"And what does that make you?" I retorted. He smirked.
"Italian." He said, using a thick accent. It was pretty sexy.
"Oh right, I forgot." I replied laughing. He mocked my laugh then threw the chicken in a frying pan. I watched as he chopped it up, throwing herbs and spices everywhere.
"Hey lazy ass, why don't you chop up some onions and cilantro?" He asked. I rolled my eyes at his slight insult and stood up from the the island stool. I opened his fridge finding half an onion wrapped in tin foil, and the cilantro in the bottom drawer. I pulled them out looking for a place to chop, he pointed in the directions of a pull out cutting board. I slid it out and placed the condiments on it. He handed me a large knife and walked back to seasoning the chicken. I began to chop, awkwardly. My onions were all different shapes and sizes, which annoyed me. So naturally I chopped harder. Once they started to come out more even I felt more confidence in my skills. I pushed the onions to the side then started to chop the cilantro, just as I had a rhythm down I sliced down too fast and slit my finger open. I gasped, looking at my finger. I ran over to the sink, and held it under cold water. "Fuck." I hissed, as the water stung my open wound. Beau was behind me in an instant.
"What happened?" He asked grabbing my hand to inspect my damaged pointer finger.
"I cut myself." I replied curtly, my face heating up from embarrassment. He laughed.
"It's not that bad." He said, bringing his lips to it gently for a quick kiss. I suddenly felt moist. Even the smallest amount of affection for him could turn me on. "Let's go clean it." He pulled me behind him into his bathroom. He picked me up and sat me on his counter, then riffled through the cabinets for a minute before popping up with rubbing alcohol and a band aid in his large hands. Watching him play doctor got me so hot, I could literally feel the wetness pooling at in the gusset of my panties. He took the rubbing alcohol and poured some on a piece of cloth, then gently cleaned my deep cut. I hissed, even in pain I was still unbelievably turned on. Drip. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes apologetically before taking the cloth off, then placing the band aid perfectly around my finger. Drip. Then he kissed my finger again. Drip. Just as he was going to pull his hands away to clean up the wrappers and alcohol drenched cloth, I pulled him back to me, pulling his pointer finger to my mouth and gently sucking it. He looked at me, his eyes full of lust. I pulled my mouth away from his finger and bit my lip. He came closer, stepping between my legs, his hard length pressing into my crotch through his sweat pants. I moaned quietly aching for more. His hand snaked up my waist, then slowly past my breasts up to my neck. He hooked his hot fingers around my neck squeezing softly. I slid my hands down into his pants, teasing him over his boxers. He twitched with pleasure under my fingertips. Then, he slid his hand up, fisting my hair and yanking just hard enough to earn a gasp from me.
"I want to eat you." He whispered, biting my earlobe. My head was too clouded over with need to respond. He released my hair and reached for the hem of my shirt ripping it over my head aggressively, and throwing it behind him. Then he swiftly unclasped my bra flinging it over his shoulder. He paused for a moment, his eyes wandering over my bare chest. Something about the vulnerable position he put me in made it even hotter. He leaned into my lips, pecking them softly,
"You are so beautiful." He whispered, his lips to pressed to mine. I went to deepen the kiss but he pulled away smirking, before kissing down my collar bone. I leaned back, my bare shoulders hitting the cool mirror. He placed soft kisses between my breasts then positioned his mouth over my right nipple. I could feel them harden the second his hot breath grazed over my skin. I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft caressing of his tongue. He bit down softly, tugging gently, it was a bitter sweet pleasure. I moaned out loud, opening my eyes to look at him. He even managed to give me a smirk with half of my boob in his mouth. I hadn't even noticed that he'd maneuvered my pants and underwear off already. I watched as he kissed down stopping just above my clit. Waiting was torture. He loved to torture me. He blew cool air on to my exposed pussy, I shuddered, needing more. Then he stood up, my face dropped.
"Wha-" I started but was interrupted by him picking me up off the counter and throwing me over his shoulder.
"I want you in my bed." He said gruffly. I couldn't lie, being manhandled was kind of extremely hot. He reached up and slapped my bare ass. I gasped, loving the feeling. The chain with a cross around his neck jingled as he threw me down on his bed. In an instant he was hovering over me, his head dangerously close to my throbbing middle. he threw one leg over his shoulder, his fingers caressing the inside and outside of my shaking leg.
"Please." I begged, watching him enjoy my torment.
"Please who?" He asked, placing a soft kiss on my clit.
"Beau." I moaned, my eyes closing.
"Look at me," he commanded. "I want to see your eyes when I make you cum." He said. I snapped my eyes open, he looked directly into them as he lowered his head and kissed me again. I started to grind my hips needing to feel something there, but he slid his hand on my hip and held me still, finally eating me. His tongue slid over my most sensitive areas over and over again, I slipped my hands into his hair, tugging gently as the pressure in my stomach rose. I was seconds away from climaxing when Beau's phone rang from the kitchen. I moaned as he pulled away, giving me a sheepish grin, walking to his kitchen to retrieve the ringing cockblock. I sighed sitting up, feeling uncomfortably naked considering he was fully dressed. I didn't know whether to wait for him or cloth myself. Just as I was about to slip a large tee shirt over my head, he walked in,
"My mother is in town."
YOU ARE READING
The Garavaglias
Romance*Story for mature audiences only* "I'd like to fuck you up against this window." He said from behind me. Now there's an idea. I turned and noticed how close he'd gotten. "Be my guest." I said staring into his eyes seductively. He smirked, brushing h...
