Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two Mireya

I knock lightly, hoping he doesn’t hear or isn’t home. This is a very bad idea. All bravery has vanished, and a bit of anxiety has creeped in since I knocked on his door. I debate what I’m going to say, but he opens the door. He is shirtless, which catches me off guard. It’s illegal for a man to look this good. But then I notice the icepack he holds to his cheek and the fresh blood on his lip.

“Oh my god, Adrian! What happened?” I move in to take the icepack from him and access the bruise before my eyes move to the open wound around his lip. I take off my jacket and reach for my backpack, where I carry some of my medical supplies.

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy,” he says with a smirk. Arrogant asshole. I pull him into the bathroom and push him to sit on the toilet while I search through his cabinets for some cotton balls and peroxide. I had placed some in here when I was helping Soledad. I move quickly when I find them to soak the cotton in the peroxide. I touch it lightly to the wound around his lip. He grabs my wrist and yanks me on to him so that my legs are straddling him as he looks up at me.

“Thank you,” he says, and our eyes stay locked on each other for a moment as he pulls my wrist to his lips and gently kisses the sensitive spot above my bracelet. The one he noticed me wearing the night he took Thalia home. The kiss is small, but it sparks that familiar flame inside me. The part of me that burns for him.

“What did you come here for?” he asks, his fingers gently playing with a loose strand of my hair. Suddenly the room feels hot. I don’t want to talk about Bryan or Thalia. I don’t want to ugly cry or confess whatever emotions I am feeling. I just want to stay here like this, in this moment with him.

His arms wrap around me, securing me to him, where I feel protected. I bend down and kiss him. Softly, I let my tongue search for his. He kisses me back. It’s gentler than he’s ever kissed me before. Slowly, we take each other in. The kiss is a heavenly offering to the universe that led us back to each other. Our tongues collide into each other as we pay homage to the stars that aligned to give this one last try.

He stands and lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He walks with me to the living room and drops me on the couch. We both tear at our clothes. Neither of us able to work them off quickly enough to appease the hunger. Our eyes never leaving the others.

“I need you inside me, Adrian.” I unclasp my bra and let it drop to the floor. He growls as he removes his boxers as he stalks toward me. His dick is so hard, and a little bead of precum is leaking out. I moisten my lips. I want to taste him. I want to take him in and savor every taste. He can see the desire in my eyes and inches closer. I pull him into me. Wrapping my lips around his crown.

“Fuck,” he growls and pushes in deeper as he grabs my hair. I slowly lick him and find a rhythm he likes. I look up and remove my lips and spit on his head. He hisses and pushes into me deeper as he places a foot on the couch. Tears pool in my eyes when he reaches the back of my throat. I hollow my cheeks and breath through my nose. He thrusts in harder and pain ripples through me the tighter he pulls my hair. I try not to gag as I keep my hands around his base, moving in synchronicity. I want him to cum in my mouth, to cum on my face and all over my breasts. Just when I anticipate his cum, he pulls out. I frown and he lets out a small laugh .

“Is my little slut sad I didn’t cum down her throat?”

He sits on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. I slide down onto him as he stretches me. He grabs my waist and moves me upward. I follow his lead as he guides my waist up and down. I slide on and off his cock. He moans in approval, so I begin to circle my hips, trying to push him into me deeper. Something about the position, the control, I have never felt so aroused. He pulls his mouth to one of my breasts, and I arch my back as he thrusts from underneath. It’s a sensory overload, his mouth sucking my tender nipples as he fucks me. I close my eyes as I feel that familiar bliss make its way up to my core. He grabs my hair, and my eyes shoot open.

“Eyes on me, diosa.” I look into his as my drawn out moans become screams, and he grips my hips tighter. With one last thrust, our orgasms meet, and I feel his cum shooting up through me as he fills me with every last drop. We cling to each other as we ride out the high together. I collapse into him, my head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrap around my back. We stay there silent for a few moments when I hear my stomach growl.

“Did your stomach just growl?” Heat rushes to my cheeks. I can’t remember the last time I ate.

He lifts me off him as he reaches for his sweatpants. I find my bra and panties and dress myself before he takes my hand and moves me into the kitchen. I sit at the table and watch as he removes a pot and some other ingredients from the pantry. The kitchen is cold, and my nipples are hard as goosebumps run down my arms. “Go in my room, and in the top drawer, I have some white t-shirts.”

I walk toward his room, and I am surprised to see how organized he keeps his clothes. I didn’t pay attention too much the last time I was in his room, but who can blame me when he was fucking my soul out of my body? My fingers skim over the top of his dresser. I look in the mirror to see the marks he’s left on my chest and neck. My hair is a mess, but I feel good.

Gone are the memories that haunt me. Sex with Adrian is like drinking from the eternal well of life. I feel rejuvenated, alive, and back in control of myself. I grab a white t-shirt and slip it on. When I return to the kitchen, I can already smell the food he’s cooking. My stomach growls again, which earns another laugh from Adrian.

He brings a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches to the table.

“Grilled cheese?” I ask, and he returns with a bowl.

“And sopa,” he says, returning with a bowl of pasta shells in tomato sauce. My heart skips a beat when I see the classic from my childhood.

“My Tia Vicky used to make this for me. The sopa. Not with grilled cheese, though,” I say and smile.

“We’re Mexican Americans. Grilled cheese is the best option for Sopa. We need the best of both worlds.” He flashes me a sincere smile as he dips his sandwich into the soup.

“Okay, Hannah Montana. ?Calmate!” I roll my eyes as I blow on the shells before I take a bite. I moan at the first bite. It tastes better than I expected. Adrian watches me from across the table, that same smile spread across his face. I haven’t seen him smile like this since we were kids. It’s warm and genuine. A softer version of him he had been only willing to share with me.

“Good?” he asks, and I nod as I go in for another bite.

“I learned a thing or two working in the kitchen at the prison. My homie, Efren, got really into it. I learned the basics of cooking before I had to focus on other things.”

“I can’t cook to save my life, but I do love to eat, and this here is five-star sopa.”

“How does someone who loves to eat forget to eat?” His brows furrow, and I know he’s not letting up on his original question from earlier. Why had I shown up on his doorstep, like Mary Poppins with my medicine bag, when I should be at home? I look down as I try to come up with a response. Deflecting failed, so I take my chance at sarcasm. It’s the only way I can control my anxiety and emotions. The man just gave me five-star sopa, and five-star dick. I don’t want to ruin it with my emotional baggage.

“Well, I ate a protein cookie this morning, and we had clinics today, so I had to stay later. Then I rushed from school to work, and I was on my way to get something from the bodega when I saw Bryan.” He frowns at me when I mention that part. “And then you tied me up while you had lunch, but I had to rush back to the front desk. Then Enrique had me write up Don Mario for drinking on the job again, and I had to deactivate a bunch of key cards. Oh, and then before Bryan left, he decided to come by the front desk, bringing up all the trauma I endured while dating him. Thalia scared him off, but not before she let me know I’m not good enough for you, and by then, I had lost most of my appetite.” I smile to mask the tears that want to come out and take another bite. And the words of my mother help me keep it in. You look so ugly when you cry.