Celeste sat there for a long time after he left. The bar was now nearly empty. The bartender began to tidy the bar, stacking the glasses, but she didn't get up.
Her head was heavy. She couldn't get that word out of her mind. Counselor.
When she got up at last, room tipped just a degree or so. The bartender shouted out, "You sure you good to drive, miss?"
She dismissed him with a wave. "Yeah, I'll take a cab."
Outside, rain was falling lightly. Chilled tingle brushed against her face and she started shaking. She was halfway through calling a ride when she saw him again—he was there by a dark car across the street, smoking a cigarette.
He looked up as if he had been looking for. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he told her.
Celeste splayed her hands against one another. "And you shouldn't be following women out of bars."
He smiled a smirk. "I don't know, maybe I was making sure you got home safe."
"Right," she said with rolling her eyes. "You always chase after strangers to make sure they're safe?"
"Only the ones who look like they're about to break."
She laughed once. "You really don't quit, do you? "
He dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his foot. "Come on. I'll drive you. You can't even stand up straight."
"I'm fine."
"Sure you are," he said softly. "But get in anyway."
She hesitated. She was supposed to know better – every warning signal was going off in her head – but her chest was felt heavy and the quiet was more terrifying than the risk.
She got in the car.
The air had a faint tinge of his cologne—clean, classy, a little too sharp. None of them said anything for a moment.
"Where to?" he finally asked.
She looked at him, her eyes glassy. "I don't know," she said honestly.
He turned the key, started the engine and said, "Then I'll pick."
The moment we stepped into the place The room felt warmer all of a sudden, smaller. Celeste's heart raced she realized how close they were standing now. His hand brushed gers, faint but purposeful, his fingers making invisible circles on my lap
"I don't even know your name" she whispered."
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.
Her heart thudded against my rib cage. All the logic in the world was telling her to push him away, to remind herself that he was a stranger, that this was crazy. But the ache in her chest, the way his eyes drew her in—she didn't want him to stop.
She slowly nodded her head. "No."
"Then shut up and let me give you the best night
His voice was rough and deep, and it sent shivers down her spine. Her panties were wet in a second.
His mouth slammed hers, demanding, burning. Her knees gave out, but he caught her. She struggled to breathe as he kissed her, his tongue twirling around hers until she felt faint.
She kissed him back desperately, not minding the consequences He guided her, instructing each move as if he was coaching her. His hands slid down, cupping her buttocks over the thin dress.
"Ahhh," she moaned.
In one quick motion, he pulled her off the ground. She grabbed his shoulders as he took her over to the bed and dropped her down on it. His mouth took her once more as his fingers ripped at the gown. "Wait—" she tried to cover myself, terrified.
His eyes turned black, his voice soft and raspy. "If we do this, there's no turning back."
She stood there frozen, then dropped her hands slowly. "I want this."
"Good girl," he growled, smiling, tearing off the last of her clothes.
Standing naked before him at his mercy, her cheeks warmed. His smile told her he was enjoying what he saw.
He spread her legs open wide, exposing me. She gasped, shivering, before his lips closed over her clit.
"Argh" she cried out, her body convulsing as his tongue played games all around her. He licked and sucked like a famished man, pumping a finger into me until she was trembling like mad.
"Please," she pleaded.
"Please what?" he jeered, his lips covered in her juices.
"More," she gasped, spreading my legs wider.
Another finger slid in, stretching her, and another. My back arched, her moans ringing out around the room. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She floated down from a high, panting for air.
He finally pulled out, eyes blackened. "Ready to be made into a woman, mi gatito?"
"Yes," she breathed.
His face softened for a moment. "It will hurt, but I'll be gentle."
She nodded quickly. "Okay."
He fell out of his pants, his cock stiff and thick. My eyes widened. "Will… will it fit?"
His lip curled. "We'll see."
Bending into place, he pressed against her opening. "Breathe, baby girl. Speak up—are you ready?"
"Yes," she said, clinging to the sheets.
In a single drive, he slid in, breaking my virginity. "Dammn" I shouted, tears forming in my eyes.
He stopped, kissing her softly. "Look at me."
She lifted her head, eyes meeting his as he began to move slowly, softly, covering her sufficiently for her to become accustomed. Pain yielded to growing pleasure, and she cried louder.
"Does it feel good?" he asked.
"Yes… yes," she screamed, hugging my legs around him.
"Ethan would never be able to give you this," he growled, sucking at my breast.
"Don't stop," she begged, clinging to him.
He thrust deeper into me, muttering foul things, until she was feeling her release building. "I'm gonna—ahhh!"
He groaned, releasing inside of her as she shattered around him.
he collapsed over her, pulling her into his chest. "You're mine now, Celeste. Forever."
Exhausted, she allowed his warmth to envelop her, floating her off to sleep.
Celeste woke up to a gentle hum. It wasn't long enough for her to realize that was the ringing of a phone on some floor.
She had a headache. It was a kind of ceiling she'd never seen before—white, tall, and classy. She kept blinking, attempting to bring her eyesight back.
The sheets were silky when she ran her fingers over them. The bed is too large, too neat. Her clothes—gone.
She bolted upright in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. Her heart began to race. "What the hell…" she whispered.
A glass of water and two painkillers were on the nightstand. There was also an unfolded note.
"Drink. You're going to need it."
Her hands shook as she extended her hand to the glass. The water was rather cold. She swallowed it in one go.
She couldn't find her phone anywhere, but there was a folded newspaper on the dresser. Something about it caught her.
She got out of bed slowly, ornate blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and walked over to it. There was a familiar photo on the front page — his face. The headline read:
Dante Navarro Freed After Five Years Behind Bars.
She stood, frozen. Her stomach fell.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no."
That memory of the night before made her feel like she got slapped – his eyes, his voice, how he'd called counselor.
"God," she breathed, hiding her lips.
A low voice behind her. "Morning."
She turned around. He was standing in the doorway, shirt unbuttoned, calm as if waiting for her.
"Morning, counselor," he said, a small smile on his face. "Miss me?"
She couldn't speak. Her heart beat so hard she felt dizzy.
He tilted his head slightly. "You look surprised."
"Dante," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You're supposed to be in prison."
He smiled wider. "Not anymore."