Season 1, Episode 9
Juan POV
"You can't just let fifty men walk up and down my house." She argued angrily. "Come on, El Carlton—" "Did you just refer to me as El? Please do not address me as such." She stated.
"Just come down here and have some fun." I muttered, my gaze fixed on her figure. I've never seen her stomach, but I see her ass bulging out that t-shirt and that perky breast, and don't even get me started on those thighs. Those thighs could choke me for all I cared. I hand her a shot glass of whiskey; it was intended for me, but because she needed to loosen up, I decided to give it to her.
"Take a drink, baby."
She glanced at the strong liquor; if she was a light drinker, she'd be knocked out in one hit.
"Car-carlton said I can't drink." I peered up and down the corridor, making sure no one could see how close we were. I took another step closer, causing her to collide with the door frame.
"Carlton isn't here right now." She chewed her lower lip, torn between disobeying her daddy or missing out on all the fun.
"Don't think, just drink." I pushed. She moved to take the whiskey, but she put her hand down and sighed.
"I don't think I can." She muttered uncomfortably.
"Calm down, Princesa. It's simple."
She glanced up at me with her innocent orbs, and there I was, lost in them again. No one will ever know, not even her, that she had a hold on me.
"You promised not to tell Carlton?" She inquired as if she were a child.
"Snitches got stitches, bebe." I grinned. She nodded and hurriedly took the liquor and drank it before changing her mind. Her nose wrinkles, and she makes a sound to indicate that it tastes unpleasant.
"Oh my God, it's revolting." "If you drink it every day like I do," I grinned,
"you'll taste a sweet favor to it once it glides down that throat." I said.
She laughs, leaning further towards the door frame. I chuckled darkly, realizing that the liquor was already having an impact.
"Let's go down-stairs." I proposed. She nodded and started closing the door, but I stopped her when I saw her exposed thighs. I didn't want anyone else staring at what is min—I don't want anyone starring at Carlton's wife in that way.
"Go put on some clothes, Princesa." I came to a halt by blocking her with my hand. She attempted to flee by ducking under my arm, but I caught her by the waist. She laughed, but she had no idea I was serious. I put her in her room and closed the door behind us.
"Put on some leggings or sum shit." I stared in disbelief as she pulled the t-shirt over her head, exposing her entire naked body. I let my gaze be drawn to her naked beauty. I wasn't mistaken; this could be the only time I encounter the goddess in person.
I may die now and go to hell. I could be baptized and go to heaven at the same time. My gaze was drawn to her scarlet, beautiful nipples. It was exactly like I dreamed. Her tummy was flat, and I'm sure it's smooth but solid to the touch. Her pussy wasn't too hairy; it was just right for me to eat till I was filled. Her upper thighs were milky white and smooth, despite the fact that they were always disguised by her t-shirt. If only I could get my hands on it to confirm my theory. My gaze kept returning to her body.
"Can I wear a longer t-shirt?" "I loathe wearing clothes."
My head shakes. I was at a loss for words. I was like a new-born virgin seeing a girl's naked body for the first time.
"So I can wear shorts, right?"
Still bewildered, I nodded. I bit my lower lip, picturing my cock going deep into that lovely pussy who was still hiding from me.
"You're making me shy, Juan." Her face flushed as she spoke. And you're hardening my cock. She began by putting on a respectable t-shirt and then some shorts. Despite the fact that she was completely concealed. In my mind, her body was still visible. Call me a jerk, but I was planning to jack off to it later.
I wasn't a jerk, but desperate times necessitated drastic means.
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Elena was as drunk as a bat. She was out like a light, resting on the couch. I sat on the next sofa over, watching her sleep. I was keeping an eye on her since I didn't trust anyone around her, not even Carlton.
The party was still going on, and I couldn't figure out how Elena fell asleep in the midst of all the commotion and bickering. I wasn't quite ready to move her yet.
I sipped another shot of vodka. I scrunched my eyes tight as the vodka flowed down my gut and burnt every organ it could. Manuel later staggered backwards and nearly fell on me; his moist skin scraped against me, irritating me.
"Maldito infierno, Manuel!" I yelled and pushed him away from me. I returned my gaze to the beautiful angel, who was shifting in her slumber.
"What's Carlton's wife doing here?" He blurted out.
"Her given name is Elena. Call her Elena. It's not Carlton's wife." He gestured with his hands.
"Relax, man."
"I really want her." I muttered to myself. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, because the sober me would never have whispered that or given it much attention. I don't want to be weak, yet this chick is making me weak.
"I want her so bad!" exclaimed.
Mierda.
Manuel turned to face me, then to her. He began to shake his head.
"Man, that's your brother's wife. You fucked with her, and you broke the family code. That's not something we do around here, man."
"Who's the boss around here, Manuel?"
"Y-you a-are, I'm just saying it's the code." He spoke it with trepidation.
"Who created the code, Manuel?" I inquired, pouring another shot into my glass.
"Y-you."
"That means I can break it, and I can also break you." I made a threat. He swallowed, nodding his head in agreement. I took the shot. The beauty awoke and looked about the room, perhaps perplexed as to why so many people were present. I pour another shot and pick it up, preparing to approach her.
"Don't do this." Manuel spoke in hushed tones. I gave him a stern look, and he bent his head.
I gave Elena the shot.
"Drink." She laughed as she took the drink and drank it all at once.
"Come on, let's go." I said. I put one under her back and one under her lower part. I returned my gaze to Manuel.
He mouthed, "Don't do it."
"Fuck you," I responded. I carried her up the stairs; she was a little heavy, but not too much for me to handle. I was able to get her room door open. I pushed up the door with my foot. I laid her down on the bed, but she shook her head.
"I can't lay down just yet. I might puke." She spoke in hushed tones. I sat next to her, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulder and rested her head on it. I locked my gaze on her lips, yearning to feel them on mine. I only wanted to express my feelings for her. I'd be such a coward if I told her while she was intoxicated, but at least I told her, right?
"I like you," she says. She laughed, grasping and squeezing my cheeks. I feel a heavy weight on my chest, like someone had dropped a brick on it. Despite the fact that she said it, I know she didn't mean it. The liquor was speaking through her veins.
I grabbed her face and kissed her lips as she pecked my nose. I was expecting her to push me away and hit me across the face, but instead she gripped me tighter and deepened the kiss. My eyes closed, loving the sensation of her delicious honey lips. I could actually die and go to hell because just remembering every time she kissed me would transport me to heaven.
She reached for my shirt, but I stopped her. Even though my stiff cock begged me to, I couldn't go through with it. "We can't." I muttered on her lips. She shook her head and pecked my lips again.
"You're wasted. I can't." I repeated myself. My conscience was only forcing me to accept a drunken kiss; if it had been another female, I would have been all over her, but not her because she was different.
"It's the alcohol talking, darling, because the real you hate me, and I couldn't go on knowing you did...I can't take advantage of you in this way." I pecked her intoxicated lips, whispering.
"Can you at the very least sleep with me?"
I nodded, removed my shoes, and we lay on the bed, facing each other. I could hear her breath flowing out as she closed her eyes. "I know you won't remember me saying this, but I like you." I said this while pecking her lips.
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