Page 98 of Raspados & Regret

“Eres mío,” he whispers.

Something inside my chest breaks.

I kiss him, and he moves his hips. I choke on a sound and bury it against his mouth.

“Quiet,” he breathes, smiling because he is evil.

“You first.”

“I’m doing a great job.”

“Mentiroso.”

He clenches around me on purpose, and I let out a low growl as my arms nearly give out. “Elías⁠—”

His smile turns wicked. “What?”

“You’re going to wake your mom.”

“I’m not the one growling.”

I press my face into his neck and laugh silently, shaky and helpless. Then I move just a little, and his smile disappears.

Good. I do it again.

His head tips back into the pillow, throat working around a sound he refuses to make. His hands grip my shoulders, nails biting. I go slow because he told me to, because the bed creaks if I move too fast, because every inch of him feels like something I am learning with my whole body.

“Así,” he whispers. “Just like that, papi. Eso es todo.”

Inside, I keep waiting for shame to show up.

But it never does. There’s only heat.

Only skin.

Only Elías whispering in my ear.

“That’s it.”

“Slow.”

“Me encanta cómo me coges,” he breathes.

I kiss him to keep us both quiet. He bites my lip, and I swallow his gasps. His legs hook higher around my waist, pulling me deeper, and the angle changes enough that we both freeze.

“Oh,” he breathes.

I stare down at him, and his eyes are wide. “What?”

“Do that again.”

I do, and his hand slaps over his own mouth. That shouldn’t be the hottest thing I have ever seen.

It totally is. I take his wrist gently and move his hand away.

“I wanna hear the pretty sounds you make for me,” I whisper, hoping that comes out sexy and not weird.

His laugh comes out broken. “My mom is asleep.”