Her Body of Work (16 page)

Was he doing what she thought he was doing? “Marco, I don’t have any fruit on my arms.”

He tugged one wrist up and tied it to the headboard. “Marco!” She tugged at the knot, trying to ignore the fresh flush of desire as he tied up her other wrist. She lay flat, her vulnerable breasts tipped up and swinging free. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”

“No. I haven’t finished eating your mangoes.” He lowered himself on top of her and rubbed his chest against her breasts, up and down, side to side. Her sticky nipples caught and rasped against the crisp black hair sprinkling his pecs.

He nuzzled the undersides of her breasts and dipped his tongue in the hollow under her sternum. He traced
a line down to her belly button and dipped his tongue in. “Yum. Sweet.” She scooted her body higher on her bed, trying to get his mouth on top of her throbbing core. Her tiny thong panties were unbearably tight, her swollen lower folds and clitoris pressing against the black lace. He rubbed his long finger against her seam, circling briefly around the knot of nerves at the top.

He raised his head and grinned. “I’m still hungry.” He stood up off the bed.

Rey cursed a particularly vile Swedish epithet and kicked at him.

“I don’t understand what you said, but I got the gist of it.” He pulled two more napkins off the tray. Rey watched him warily. Her breasts were still sticky, and she thought he had other plans rather than wiping her off.

He grabbed one ankle and tied it to the foot of her bed. Rey twisted and tried to kick at him with her other foot, but she got no leverage and he ducked her easily, fastening her other ankle to the other bedpost. “And this is the thanks I get for slaving away in a hot kitchen to fix you a snack.”

“You’re the only one eating anything.”

He leered at her. “And aren’t you lucky?”

Rey squirmed but she couldn’t get free. “Untie me, Marco. I’ve never done this before.” She’d had a few weird bondage offers from people on the fringe element of the art scene but had always refused them.

His fruit-sweetened breath scorched her cheek. “I think you like being tied up, Reina.”

A hot flush rose from her bare, sticky breasts all the way to her tousled hair, and she looked away from his knowing glance.

“You always have the position of power with men, not only in your artwork but because you’re so beautiful.”

“I don’t think I’m that beautiful.”

“Rey,
querida,
you almost made me come when I first auditioned for you. Always looking, never touching. God, you must have had nerves of steel.”

“No, I could hardly keep myself from kneeling down and licking you,” she admitted, the memory bringing a rush through her overheated body.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, but I won’t let you. Not yet. Now it’s time for me to drive you crazy.”

It
was
really sexy being spread wide open, the cool air swirling around her exposed thighs and teasing her hot cleft. She wiggled her hips, the thong riding deep into her dripping folds. It didn’t help. She needed him to touch her.

He stretched out one muscular arm to grab another plate of sliced fruit.

“Is that more mango?” Rey tugged on her linen bonds, but she was trussed like a Swedish Christmas goose. She stifled a laugh. Mother had insisted on giving her the table linens, saying Rey’s reliance on paper napkins was tacky. At least Marco couldn’t have tied her up with paper napkins.

“No. This is papaya. Another Cuban favorite.” He held a slice of papaya to her lips and she took a bite. The soft fruit smashed on her tongue, bathing it with exotic juices.

“That’s delicious. Now untie me and take off your pants.”

He stood and loosened his slim black leather belt.
As he undid his zipper, the hot bulge of his erection pushed against the straining waistband of his briefs. “I’ll untie you but not yet. I haven’t even made you come screaming my name.” Rey’s stomach jumped half from nerves and half from excitement. What would it be like to be totally vulnerable to this darker, more dangerous Marco, to let him do whatever he wanted to her while she couldn’t touch him?

He took her silence for acquiescence and ate a slice of papaya. “Delicious.” He licked each one of his long fingers, sucking the juice off every fingertip. “Have you ever seen what a papaya looks like on the inside, Reina?”

“No, I’ve never opened one.”

“Most women haven’t. You’re lucky I’m here to take care of your papaya, Rey. Cuban men are the best in the world.” He picked up a papaya half, pear-shaped but a tiny bit bigger. The narrow neck of its glistening rosy-orange flesh was divided in two by its core, opening into an oval hollow below.

Rey stared at his wicked grin. “Oh, my God.
Papaya
is some sort of slang for…for…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for words.

“Want some?” he offered. “It’s really juicy and sweet.” He held the papaya to his face and licked the center of the fruit, his eyes never leaving hers.

She felt that lick as if his tongue had been on her instead of the fruit. Moisture trickled between her thighs like the papaya juice dripping down Marco’s chin. She squirmed to ease the pressure between her legs, but her ankles were spread too far apart. She still wasn’t sure about been tied up, so she took refuge in sarcasm. “What
is it with Cuban men and fruit? Do you get a boner shopping in the produce department?”

“No fruit is as sweet as you, Reina. I’d rather eat your papaya.”

He laid the half papaya on the plate and chose a slice. “But I think the combination would be very tasty.” He knelt between her widespread legs and pulled aside her thong, murmuring in Spanish.

“What did you say?” It was hard for her to breathe, watching him gaze at her innermost secrets.

“You have a beautiful papaya,
mi amor.
”

She gasped as he traced her folds with the slice of fruit, painting her liberally with its juice. All of the blood in her body had flowed to her center, swelling and throbbing there while she got dizzy and light-headed. Up and down, back and forth, he slid the papaya around her sex, coming close to her aching bud but never touching it. Rey tossed her head on her luxurious nest of pillows, the heat and pressure building. He finally rubbed the fruit on her clitoris, causing her hips to thrust wildly against his hand.

He groaned and tossed the fruit away. Rey heard it splat against the hardwood floor but didn’t care.

“Let me taste your sweetness,
querida.
” With a sharp tug he snapped the black lace pressing against her clit and shoved the fabric away. He dipped his newly shorn black head, the short hair rasping against the tender skin of her thighs. The heat of his tongue scorched the pulsing knot of nerves and she screamed his name.

He slipped a finger inside her, probing and stretching her. He slipped in a second finger, and her tiny muscles clenched and quivered. He raised his head to stare
at her. He reminded her of a photo she’d seen of a black jaguar interrupted mid-drink at the Amazon River, amber eyes glittering, mouth glistening. Trapped in his savage gaze, she shivered.

Then he smiled and the savageness melted away. “You like that, don’t you?” His fingers slid even deeper, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot. She ground her hips against him. “Marco, please! I want you inside me.”

“Not yet.” He bent his head and swirled his tongue around and around her aching bud. Her legs quivered from straining against the fine linen bonds. His mouth lapped at her, hot and wet, coaxing every drop of response from her that she had to give. Just as she couldn’t bear the buildup of sensation, he darted his tongue inside her, giving her tiny muscles something to clench on. The dam broke and an exquisite flood washed over her, leaving her limp and drained.

She heaved a sigh of contentment and raised an eyebrow. “I enjoyed the lesson on naughty Cuban slang, but it seems one-sided. There has to be a nickname for the penis.”

He gave her a wicked smile. “Of course there is. I saved that lesson for last.
Pepino
is a nickname for the penis, but it really means ‘cucumber.’”

“That makes sense.”

“I know you love to eat cucumbers.” He stood and slowly pushed down his briefs. His erection sprang free, almost touching his tight abs. Desire coiled between her thighs again. He was so sexy it almost hurt to look at him. What would she do when he was gone? She decided to play it cool. “You do, hmm? How do you know that?” She wiggled into her nest of pillows.

“You love to eat my
pepino.
” He straddled her belly, rubbing his penis between her breasts. If she tipped her head, she could suck him deep into her mouth just as in the sauna.

“Marco!” She blushed but couldn’t deny it. His erection had made her mouth water from the first time she’d seen him strip off his briefs and pose for her.

“And I found something in your refrigerator that gave me an idea.” To her utter disappointment he swung off her.

“What? Whipped cream? Jelly? Honey?” Maybe he’d play with her breasts some more.

He lifted a cloth napkin. “A
pepino.
” A whole hot-house cucumber lay on the tray, long and thick. Its smooth, waxy, green skin glistened in the candlelight.

“Marco, I’m really not hungry anymore. And it’s not even peeled and sliced.”

“But I did wash it.” He admired the vegetable, turning it around in his hand. “Sad to say, my
pepino
is not this big.”

“You’d have trouble walking. That thing is almost a foot long.”

“It’s easy to see the comparison. Long and thick but smooth with a rounded tip, meant for gliding in and out of a woman’s body.” He hefted the cucumber.

“Marco, are you talking about you or the cucumber?” She shivered as he traced the outline of her nipples with the icy vegetable. He dragged it down the center of her belly until it rested right above her mound.

“Both.” He grinned up at her.

“Both?” she squeaked. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant.

“Sí.”
He parted her lower lips with his thumb and forefinger.
“Dios mío,”
he said in mock concern. “Your papaya is all pink and swollen. Was I too rough?”

She grew even more swollen as he petted her moist flesh. “No,” she whimpered.

“Are you sure? I can see you getting even pinker just lying here. Let me check.” He slipped one finger inside her and she spasmed around him. He withdrew his finger and spread her juices over her clitoris. “I couldn’t tell with just one finger. I’d better try again.” He wiggled two fingers inside her, stretching her.

Her hands clutched at empty air, straining against their bonds. “Stop teasing me.”

“Do you ache?”

She nodded, aching badly for him.

“I think you need something cool and soothing.” He pulled his fingers out of her and rubbed the cucumber against her throbbing cleft.

“Marco!” Her eyes flew open. “That’s cold.”

He stopped immediately and she moaned. “Touch me more.”

Leaning over to nibble her neck, he whispered, “First, this
pepino.
If you’re still hungry afterward, I’ll let you eat
my pepino.
”

“Don’t you want to push your cock inside me and come?” She had a brief victory when his erection jerked and left a damp trail against her thigh, but he shook his head.

“You want to try this, I can tell. It’s long and thick and smooth,” he cajoled, twisting the cucumber against the rim of her passage.

“I don’t know about this.”

He pulled it back abruptly. “This is the only
pepino
you’re going to get.”

She sucked in a deep breath and glared at him. She couldn’t even kick him out of her bed and finish by herself.

“Tell me what you want.” He was relentless, nudging her clitoris with tiny rhythmic strokes. Her feverish body heat was starting to warm the cucumber’s tip.

“Yes,” she muttered.

“What?” he asked, slipping in the cucumber an inch or so. She gasped as her tiny muscles clenched around it. He pulled it out, waiting for her answer.

She gritted her teeth. “Yes, all right, damn it. Give me the
pepino.
”

He thrust it inside her. Cold filling her heat. Totally stretching her swollen tissues. She arched her back off the bed and screamed in pleasure. “Oh, my God, Marco!”

He slowly pulled it out again, making her whimper in frustration, then wiggled it into her, inch by agonizing inch.

He slowly rotated the cucumber deep inside her, filling her harder and thicker than she’d ever had before. She writhed against her linen bonds, the silky duvet slipping against her back and bottom.

“Are you close?”

She nodded, her breath searing her throat in large gasps as she shut her eyes.

“Good. Let’s take you all the way there.” He bent his head and sucked her clitoris hard into his mouth. The hot, wet suction of his mouth and the cold, hard pressure of the cucumber against her vagina sparked bursts of col
ors. Mango-orange, papaya-pink and cucumber-green swirled on the black canvas of her closed eyelids, pulling her into a world of uncontrolled chromatic overload where she was the painting and Marco was the artist.

As she blinked to clear her vision, he lifted his gleaming mouth. She moaned in frustration as he eased the cucumber out of her still-pulsing sheath.

“Don’t worry,
querida.
We’re not done yet.”

She sighed with relief as he pushed inside her. After the vegetable’s chill, his bare cock was blazing hot.

She saw him grit his teeth as she contracted around him. He muttered in Spanish as he thrust in and out of her, his chest rubbing her fruit-sticky breasts. Already sensitized from her first two orgasms, her innermost muscles tightened as the pressure from his penis rubbed against her clitoris and his balls slapped her wet flesh. She squirmed against her bonds, wanting more, wanting to touch him as he came.

He paused for a second and freed her wrists and ankles. Rey immediately threw her legs onto his shoulders, gasping as his cock penetrated even deeper into her throbbing flesh.