Sweet Collateral

His lips hit the inside of my thigh, and I tense. “You said you trust me.” He kisses me gently.

“I do,” I say, although my voice sounds shaky and unsure even to my own ears.

I glance down at him, his face practically between my thighs. His fingers travel higher and higher. My chest tightens with each creeping inch, and when his fingers skim the edge of my underwear, I flinch. I’m right there, teetering on the edge of wanting to be brave, normal… and buckling under the strain of years of engrained fear. If he touches me…nothing good has ever come from anyone touching me there.

He pauses. “It’s me, avecita. No one else.”

I nod, listening to his voice but staring at the ceiling. It takes everything in me to remain here with him. “I know.”

“I want to show you something.” I glance down at him again. A wicked smirk dances over his lips and I narrow my eyes at him. “But I still need you to ask…”

“What?”

“I’ll never touch you unless you ask.”

“Rafael, I… I don’t—.”

He turns his face and kisses my thigh again. “You want something you’ve never had before because you feel something right now you’ve never felt.” His tongue traces a wet line up my thigh, and I tremble. “You want it, you’re just scared. Ask me, avecita.” His gaze meets mine again. “Trust me to know what you need.”

My heart thrums so fast it feels as though it’s going to rip out of my chest and take off. “Touch me.” As soon as the words slip from my mouth, I feel like I’m going to be sick. My fists clench tight, my nails cutting into my palms. He’s going to touch me, with his face that close. Watching, seeing everything. I want to run from him. I want to run to him. I want to fight this fear, while allowing it to consume me. His finger brushes over me through my underwear and a sharp breath leaves me, every muscle in my body screaming with tension. My mind blinks, reaching for that untouchable place that has saved me for most of my life.

“Look at me, Anna,” he demands. I lift my head and look at him resting there, his face so close. Hot breaths blow over me, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I watch as he shoves my panties to the side and puts his mouth on me. His mouth! Embarrassment washes over me, and I try to back away from him, but his hands wrap around my thighs, holding me in place.

“Rafe.” His name comes out on a raspy moan as his mouth elicits sensations I’ve never felt before.

He groans against me, strong fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs. I fall back against the mat and wait for the fear and the anguish, followed by the void of nothingness. But it never comes. He doesn’t allow it. Rafael tears me apart with nothing more than a lash of his tongue. The world as I know it crumbles to dust before my eyes like a veil being ripped away. My body trembles and quakes as tears track down my temples. Long buried roots are torn from the ground, and I suddenly find myself free, weightlessly floating away. As if he knows exactly what I need, his hands slip from my thighs, and he winds his fingers through mine, holding me together as he shatters everything I thought I knew.

“Rafe.” I choke out his name again, a plea in some form, but I don’t know whether I’m begging him to stop or keep going. Something is building deep inside me like a tsunami heading straight for dry land; unstoppable and forceful. My pulse hammers against my eardrums and my lungs scream for air as my vision dots. In a single breath, everything implodes and everything I once was, explodes outwards in a kaleidoscope of beautiful color. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over my body, lulling me with each passing second. And then it all stops. I close my eyes, needing the temporary reprieve of my own head. The pounding of my pulse quiets until I can hear my own rasping breaths. My body quakes as I try desperately to locate all the fractured little pieces of my mind. It was simple. Everything was simple. Good and bad. Lines drawn very clearly in the sand. And now…

“Anna.” Rafael’s fingers trail gently over my cheek, and I’m hyper-aware of him. The sound of his steady breaths—the heat radiating from his body. “Look at me.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I can’t.”

He huffs a small laugh. “Look at me.” On a deep breath, I open my eyes. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. “Stop,” he orders.

“Stop what?”

“You look like you just did something awful.” I can’t help this sick feeling niggling at my gut.