Page 180 of Love Unwritten
“What?”
“That I’ve waited this long to taste you.” He undoes the button of my jean shorts, and my heart jolts in my chest as he tugs them off.
My typical apprehension about my scars is still there. I had my tattoo artist add stars around the scars, not to cover them but to turn my thighs into a canvas inspired by one of my favorite songs.
Still, I can’t help being self-conscious about the older ones. Eventually, I learned to be more discreet, choosing places that could easily go undetected by almost everyone. My stomach. The insides of my upper thighs. Behind my panty line.
God, what will he think if he sees those? I think as I look away with a flinch.
He slides to his knees and brushes his hands across my thighs. “Mírame.”
My wide-eyed gaze swings back to his. Rafael brushes his hand across my flesh, but this time, I don’t flinch because I’m too focused on what comes out of his mouth instead.
Mírame: Look at me.
“You’re one of the strongest people I know.” His touch is soft. Appreciative. Exploratory in a way that makes my stomach burst with butterflies.
The last time I counted, I had over fifty scars, so that makes me the complete opposite of strong, but with the way Rafael looks at me, I choose to believe him.
His lips brush over one of the older ones. “All I see is someone who chose to live.”
My bottom lip wobbles.
“Someone who chose to keep fighting, even when they had reasons to give up.” He brushes the tip of his finger over one of my tattoos, and my vision blurs at the edges as tears form near my lash line. “Someone who turned their scars into shooting stars.” He leans forward on his knees and kisses my newest scar that always fills me with shame.
A single tear slips out, and I brush it away because I don’t want to ruin the moment.
He doesn’t seem to care, though, as he repeats the gesture, this time kissing the scar beside the last.
“You’re a warrior, Elle.” His lips brush over a particularly ugly one. “You put up a great fight, but you don’t have to battle those demons alone anymore.”
One tear turns into two, and next thing I know, my cheeks are soaked.
Rafael replaces my past memories with a completely new one as he takes his time kissing every single scar.
By the time he is done, my grief has morphed into a yearning so strong, I’m afraid I may combust. My lower half is pulsing, and I desperately want to press my thighs together, but his body keeps them open as he brings out another wave of yearning.
He drops a kiss right over my pussy, and I suck in a breath.
“You like that?” His lips hover over me, peppering me with soft kisses as he makes his way closer to my underwear.
“I know it’s been a long, long time for you, but I’m sure you can solve that mystery on your own.”
His right hand traces a path toward my underwear while his other hand reaches to cup my ass. “Oh, Elle. The things I want to do to that mouth.”
Rafael brushes his knuckle up and down my center, sending zings of pleasure down my spine. He presses the pad of his thumb against my clit, and I jolt forward with a gasp. He pushes my underwear to the side, smirking at the wet spot soaking through the cotton.
If I wasn’t lying down, I would fall over as he brushes the tip of his tongue over my center.
“You’re soaked for me.”
“Are you going to continue stating the obvious, or can you actually do something about it?” I wiggle my hips.
A devious smirk crosses his lips. “Keep talking like that and I’ll make you work for it.”
“How?”
He locks his hand around my wrist and drags it toward my center. “Isn’t it obvious?”