“What’s your song, Lucia?”
“You want to play my song?” She looks intrigued.
“I do.”
“I love… the Méditation from Thaïs.”
As soon as she says it, I start playing, and the appreciative smile on her face keeps me going.
I play, but I’m watching her watching me. I know in my soul that whatever we do next is going to take me deeper down the rabbit hole I crawled out of many years ago after I lost the only other girl I used to play music for. I was so young then, and I thought I had the rest of my life figured out.
Not even Priscilla got to hear me play, and we were together for almost a year before I found out the truth. She would ask, but I’d never do it.
At the time I couldn’t. It felt like a block on that part of me I couldn’t remove. Yet here this woman sits, and I play the way I used to, effortlessly. For her.
Maybe I need to because of the shit from earlier, or maybe it’s all part of the escape she’s giving me. In the fantasy where I can be whoever I want to be, even if I choose to be myself from thirty years ago.
By the time I play the last note, something magical hangs in the air, mingling with the sexual haze, and we’re both locked in it.
Her full lips press together, and I get the urge to sink my teeth into the plump flesh of her bottom lip, so I stand and kiss her.
I inhale the sweet scent of her. Sweet like the roses that used to grow here, like warm summer days, of dreams, hope, and fantasy.
I don’t know what the fuck this woman has done to me, but I can’t undo it. I can’t unlike it. I can’t leave the haven she beckons my dark soul to take refuge in.
The kiss stirs to life the chemistry writhing through us, and as her tongue tangles with mine, I get lost in the delicious taste of her. I ravage her mouth trying to take everything I can. Greed pulses through me, making my heart gallop in the cavity of my chest when she moans in my mouth.
I lift the hem of her shirt, and she no longer seems to care about where we are when I pull it over her head.
All she wears now are her panties and little ballerina pumps.
I take off the shoes and kiss along her feet then up her legs again, straight to her wet pussy. The little lace covering her sex is soaked with her juices.
I move the lace aside so I can slide my fingers inside her. She moans and tries to hold it in again, but I shake my head.
“Don’t do that.”
“I don’t want anyone to hear me.”
I give her a wicked smile. “And yet I want the world to hear.” And know she’s mine.
She’s fucking mine, and I don’t care how long she stays with me.
Shock registers on her face when I lower my head to suck her breasts and nibble on the tight peaks. I give her a good suck and mellow her worries right out of her head before I start finger-fucking her.
A little gasp falls from her lips when I position her so she can place her feet on the top of the piano, too. She rests back on to her elbows, her expression now pleading with me to give her what she needs. I plan to, but I want to play first.
I look at her spread out on my piano like a fine dish. Any man would envy me and want to take her from me. Except they can’t for the mere fact that I am Alejandro Ramírez, and that name means you’re dead if you try.
I pull off her panties, and she takes in a sharp breath, her breasts heaving, her pale skin glistening with a glow of need.
I flick my thumb over her clit, teasing out her pleasure.
“Do you like that, Lucia Ferreira?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like me touching you?”