Promise and Punishment, page 18
“I can’t help it,” she exhaled.
“Why not?”
“I normally do. But not during sex.”
“Then when?”
“When I…” Gemma bit into the pillow. “When I touch myself, sometimes I hold my breath. I don’t know I’m doing it though. I only know it happens when I get close.”
“Close to what?”
“Close to coming, just like before. But I could never get myself there with other men…” she whined, our sweat rolling into shared beads between our bodies. “I don’t think I can hold on any longer.”
“Then don’t.” I demanded, lifting her back to meet my chest. She gasped, her arms hoisted like wings, restrained and braced for the pump of my hips. Fuck, now would be the time to use the cuffs on her, to chain her wrists into an unmovable position. She’d look sexy as hell but already felt too damn good to move anywhere but in and out of her body.
“Christ, Alejandro.” Her voice drowned out by the pound of my hips. She never held her breath during sex, but she never knew what true sex was, what true fucking could be. She held it now because she was close, her milky cunt leaving slick lube along my condom. I’d look for it as I fucked her, measuring her pleasure by the size and covering of what she leaked.
“Look at yourself.” I kissed her balmy neck, my cheek guiding hers toward the standing trifold mirror in the corner, the one I installed when she took my measurements. Back then she refused to come to my room, but now she was here, right where she belonged, and I thanked Christ for such a merciful fucking gift. “What a sight, a beautiful fucking sight,” her breasts raised in the reflection as I clawed at her stomach, my cum still dripping over her belly button, rolling down from the vertical line of her torso and towards her inner thigh.
“I look like—” she leaned her head back, pushing herself harder against me. “A fucking. Dirty. Mess.”
“Just like us. Perfectly messy, just how I like it. Just how we are. Now come for me.”
“I—” She held her breath.
“Give it to me. Another and another. Wet this goddamn bed.” Her body jerked as I fucked her harder, my knees digging into the soaked sheets of her release, nearly losing balance with how mercilessly I railed her cunt.
“There!” She yelled out, “I’m coming!” My cock slipped out, all of my weight and size freed between her legs as a pool of warm liquid poured out from Gemma and over my cock. My erection pulsed, no longer inside her, but coming regardless, filling my condom again as she squirted over it, soaking me.
“Good fucking girl.” I growled, holding her from behind, controlling the loose tremor of her body. I pressed my mouth against her shoulder, foolishly biting her in an attempt to be closer, to fucking consume her.
We panted, collecting our breath between kisses.
“I can’t believe it.” She reached between her legs where my cock sat erect, placed beneath her, stiff against her clit. She pinched the tip of my condom, stroking the last bit of my cum into it. “I know you’re out of me, but I still feel you, throbbing.”
“But you’re emptied.” I praised, elated how her wetness pooled around my knees again. “Now relax, baby. You’ve done so good,” I supported her loose body, her muscles puddling against me. “You know that I’ll take care you.” In a quick but gentle move, I cradled Gemma, lifting her into my arms as she laughed, exhausted.
“You, take care of me?” she asked, her eyes much bigger in the dark as they expanded to take me in.
I sat her onto my small midcentury dresser, propping her up, ensuring she didn’t bump into the brass knobs. She watched me unroll my condom, her face frowning as I tied its end into a knot. I think she liked what I did earlier, and the minor change of expression may have been because I didn’t spill it all over her.
“Yes,” I reached over a tufted chaise by our side, removing a white blanket from its arm to wrap around Gemma. “I take care of you, and I take care of us. Us as a couple, us from the press, the world, and from anyone and anything that could ever threaten what we have, because what we have, Gemma, is far more incredible than what anyone could ever hope for.”
A brief silence lulled as I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She didn’t immediately respond.
Maybe the thought of us as a collective was finally settling in. From the drawer by her side, I pulled out a fresh set of sheets and a spare towel to clean her.
“Those are really big feelings to share,” Gemma grinned, breaking her gaze from mine, directing it toward the floor. She didn’t seem shy or embarrassed, and for once, her eyes escaped the fear that I felt had been holding her back. I didn’t know if it were fleeting or not, but I cherished it nonetheless.
“Spread your legs for me.” I commanded, rubbing her knee as she parted herself slowly. I ran the towel along her chest and down to her navel, gently padding it towards the lower half of her body. My cum dripped dangerously close to her pretty pussy as I swiped it away. She didn’t seem to mind, and I wondered if she would have allowed it to fall right over her clit if its course continued. “Do you mind that I share big feelings?” I leaned my head against hers.
“I’m…” she paused, “I’m just not used to it, I think.”
“That’s a shame. You deserve to know all the pretty things that you bring to this world. The purpose you give me.” I brushed her eyebrow, her hand raised towards my chest, checking the sturdy pulse that still raced for her.
“And what would my purpose be?”
I kissed her deeply, selfishly taking my time memorizing each intricate curve of her body. She was mine, and for that I was grateful, along with the truth I was about to share.
“Well, for me… it’s everything. It’s what I’ve looked for and always wanted. It’s you, and as strange as it may sound, it always has been. You have been out in the world, and I have been waiting, searching for this feeling, like everything will be ok. That’s purpose, Gemma. It’s the possibility that I can truly be myself someday.”
Gemma’s timid smile dropped.
Did I say too much?
“I thought smokers enjoyed a cigarette after sex?”
She changed the subject, the depth of my confession maybe more than what she could handle.
“Some do.”
“But not you?”
“Of course me. But I told you, I won’t smoke in front of you.” Gemma fidgeted with a pack of Tranquillo’s by her side, which may have prompted the question.
“Even if I told you I don’t mind?”
“Yes, even if you say you don’t mind.”
I knew better but watched closely as she opened the pack and pulled one out.
“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” she sighed, dragging the cigarette across her bottom lip.
“Tell me what?”
“A secret. An embarrassing one at that. I’m not even sure how you would look at me if I told you.”
“I know the feeling, but trust me, I’ll never stop looking at you the way I do.”
“And how is that?”
“Like it’s the first time all over again.” I confessed, dropping my shielded glare, no longer disguising my nervousness, but making it known. I had her now, so my face finally relaxed.
Gemma hid her blush.
“Well, the night I came by to measure you for your suit, when you caught me snooping. I actually had something in my hand, something I stole from you.” Gemma ran the cigarette down my chest, unprepared for how suddenly I caught her wrist.
“A thief? Just like when you stole a box of pants from your school auditorium?”
“Worse,” she admitted. “I stole one of your Tranquillos.” She faked a pout. Goddamn, she was so cute, and it frustrated me.
“You’re a bad fucking girl,” I worshipped.
“Maybe I’m both, bad and good. Maybe I’m realizing this myself. I think it’s your fault, Mr. Rivera-Marquez.”
My full name from her lips reminded me of our professional relationship. To me she was Gemma, my good girl, but also, to the public eye she was my employee. This made me her boss, the very boss that just spilled his hot cum all over her stomach like a dirty fucking canvas. It was all so perfectly indecent.
“Stealing?” I playfully scolded. “Oh, Miss Harrison, how could I ever forgive that?”
She shrugged, batting her eyes, “Guess I should have known better.”
I removed the Tranquillo from her fingers. “So, you have a special cigarette of mine?”
She nodded, the tops of her breasts rising as I traced the tip of the cigarette along her chest and down to her stomach. “If you get a special cigarette, then so do I.” I licked her lips. “Maybe it’ll be my last cigarette. I’ll only need one more, one that is sweeter than any cherry.”
“Tell me, what would that be?” Gemma’s stomach prickled with goosebumps, as the filter teased the lips of her perfectly spread pussy, still filled with arousal, seeping the clear lube that made my cock hiccup in excitement.
“The taste of your cunt,” I eased her shoulders as I ran the cigarette against her opening, lathering her taste onto its tip.
“Me?” She bated.
“All you, baby. I’ll smoke it when I need it the most, and I’ll think of you. Only you. And how amazing you make me feel.” I slightly penetrated the tip inside her just enough to appreciate her taste for later. It made me grit my teeth.
“I’m still so wet.” She swallowed, shivering as I pulled it out and placed it behind my ear. Her hazy eyes begged to be fucked again, but also competed with their need for sleep. I had exhausted her, and as selfish as I wanted to be, nothing brought me more pleasure than seeing her taken care of.
“You’ll need your energy.” I rubbed her chin. “If you think tonight was good, then wait till tomorrow, and the day after that.”
“And after that?” she asked, watching as I carefully pulled the old sheets off, lying fresh ones down.
“And after that. I have big plans for us.”
Gemma grew quiet again, watching as I tucked everything in, making sure it was clean and dry.
“Alejandro?” she asked as I finished smoothing out the sheets, making my way back to her.
“Gemma?”
“What does us feel like to you? I didn't mean to shy away from your feelings earlier. I guess, I’m still just surprised to hear them. It feels nice, and I wouldn’t ever want them to go away, but then again, some things can feel both nice and scary all at once.”
“Scary?” I asked, drawing the fuzzy blanket closer around her arms.
“Yeah. Scary as in, getting my hopes up. Tonight was so great, and honestly I haven’t felt this way, ever. Well, I’ve never been this intimate with anyone. Have you?” She looked away, shaking her head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“What if I want to?” I corrected the direction of her worried eyes.
“It’s just… I feel like I’m slowly discovering who I am. Maybe I’m a little bit of the person from my past, but also, maybe I’m someone different. Someone I only am when I’m with you.” She grazed her fingers along the angel wings on my chest. I knew she wanted to know more about the A.A. initials that they held. “I’m sure it’s already happened to you. You’re older and more experienced than I am, and maybe I’m just trying to catch up.”
“My experiences are different than yours, but trust me, there’s never been anyone like you.” I looked down at her hand, her finger circling the feather-like strokes of my tattoo. We stood in the dark, just like at The Met, the moment she opened herself to me and shared unreciprocated pieces of truth. I owed some in return, even at the cost of my discomfort. “The A.A. is something I look at before bed, and immediately when I wake up. It’s a reminder of the sacrifices that were made to get me where I am today.”
“Was it a lover?” she asked again.
I shook my head. “A love but not like that. One that was lost too soon.” I lifted Gemma into my arms, her body still wrapped in the blanket as I carried her to bed. “It’s just not easy to talk about, but how can I criticize your shyness when I’m being so timid?”
“That’s honest of you.” She turned to face me as we laid in the cool fresh sheets.
“I’m usually better at looking at others than within.”
“Within is where the good stuff is.”
“But also the bad.” I admitted, combing her hair. I just wanted to make her feel comfortable, and it was the little things she did for me that told me she felt the same. It was her attention, undivided and committed, prevalent even after waiting all night for me to get out of jail; her willingness to be accepting, to see me at a party and still stand by my side. She was all the good things I never deserved, loyalty included, sticking up for me even with the disapproval of her best friend. I knew I could feel safe with her, but my own insecurities always had a way of creeping in. Mostly, I feared what she feared, that it would all go away with the slip of a tongue. “Always. Alma.” I exhaled slowly.
“Always, Alma?” Gemma repeated quietly.
“It’s my mother’s name. The tattoo is for her, and it’s a reminder for me to do better, to be better. I always thought the reason I did things was to honor her, to make her proud, and serve her memory. Always for her. Always for Alma.”
Gemma snuggled against me, as I pulled her in closer. Our bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, so equally close and impenetrable. It was all I could say, a little at the time, a fraction of the broken story of my life.
“I love that,” Gemma finally spoke. “And I love that you shared that with me. You can share anything with me, Alejandro. Please know that. I know we try our best to be open with one another, and I know in time we will. I swear I can be patient, like you have been with me.”
I was certain she wanted to know more about how I lost my mother. I could share it all, but all I cared to share was how she made me feel, and wasn’t that what really mattered? I cared, and I wasn’t afraid to tell her that, I was only afraid to lose her.
“Someday…” I squeezed her tighter, kissing her forehead.
“You’re allowed to keep secrets. Just know this, I’ll never stop looking at you the way I do.” Gemma echoed my own words to me, I couldn’t help but chuckle, curious as to her answer.
“And what would that be, Miss Harrison?”
“That you deserve to feel the way you make me feel. That I am worthy of something more,” she cooed. “I’m not scared of you, Alejandro. Not anymore.”
Her eyes began to close as she nuzzled my chest.
Falling asleep.
Listening to my heart.
An incurable thrum meant only for her.
Chapter 22
Gemma
Did last night really happen?
The rough love and tender kisses?
The dirty words and endearing truths?
It was all so wicked and divine, so impossible to believe, but once I felt the cool sheets in my grasp, I knew this wasn’t a dream.
It was real.
We were real.
I slowly found the courage to wake up, revealing the Manhattan sky, lit like an auburn fire settling on the white linen that wrapped around my body.
“You’re awake,” Alejandro marveled, gruffer with the first use of his voice. I glanced up, taking in his peculiar bedhead and thick, long lashes as he pulled me into his naked body.
“Have you been watching me sleep?” I asked, giddy at the thought, his hands caressing my arms like honey on porcelain.
He kissed my cheeks between words, his confidence hidden in the modesty of a whisper. “Watching you, dreaming of you, thinking about last night, and god, how bad I still crave you.” He reached below the sheets, drawing a line along my breasts and to the curve of my hip. Each touch reminded me that my skin was still naked and vulnerable to his command.
“Craving me? Geez, you must be so hungry then.”
“Starved,” he scooped me up.
I screamed in delight.
Alejandro flipped me onto my back, leaving me little room to resist, but giving me little desire to either. He stopped as my eyes went huge, his devout attention sinking into the center of my pupils.
“God…” he said above my lips.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just… you look so innocent. Just like when you followed me out of Gerard’s.”
“You mean when you stole my designs?” I laughed. “What choice did I have?”
“Your designs? I wasn’t stealing those. I was stealing you.” His hips parted my legs, his body burrowing into a space almost too small for such a large man. “And then you smiled. I’m not sure if I could ever find the words to tell you how you made me feel that day… but I sure as hell can show you.”
The sheet slipped down as he tossed me further up the bed, exposing my breasts to his insatiable, lust-filled eyes.
“Let me feel you, the real you. No condom. Just the tip, that’s all I’m asking for, Papi.” I begged, freeing my hand to run my fingertips along his back. I knew it was dangerous to ask, but the risk of his cock fucking me bare turned like a spring in my stomach, his hard, red tip already brushing along my slit.
“Don’t taunt me, Gemma. You don’t know how fast I might come while I’m inside you… and Christ knows you couldn’t wash me away.”
“Who says I would? Now. Fuck. Me.” I surprised myself with the slight jut of my hips, accidentally pushing his erection into my pussy. “Just like that…” inaudible words perched from the back of my throat. I dropped my hips, causing his cock to fall out and onto my pulsing clit. I looked down at my wetness smeared along the top of his crown. Alejandro was so aroused, his dick brimming with precum. I rubbed it away, allowing its sticky slickness to part between my fingers before sucking it off, wanting more.
“Mr. Rivers!” A spry voice echoed along the penthouse, carrying up to our bedroom—his bedroom—from the foyer downstairs. My eyes widened as I tried not to laugh.
“Fuck…” Alejandro groaned. “It’s my scheduled room service.”
The thought of an unknowing observer ever hearing my screams felt naughty, almost enticing, and I knew already with just a few more thrusts, that I’d come.
