He was the only one I trusted.
“I hate him,” I hissed. “I hope he dies a terrible death.”
Slowly, he removed my hand from his face and kissed each finger, one by one. “Men like him always do, baby.”
Did he believe he was a man like him?
“Let me fix it.”
“You already are.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, knelt before him and framed his beautiful face with my hands. The boy with the haunted eyes had become the man that stole my heart.
Only ours wasn’t a romance story. We both knew our story could only end in tragedy.
Slowly, gently, I brushed my lips over his cheeks. I kissed each tender, bruised spot until his eyes closed. I relished the clasp of his hands around my back, how he held me. I felt so small and fragile in his grip.
I nestled myself on his lap as he tugged me forward, straddling him. He reached for me and brought me to his mouth, his fingers on the back of my head. My heart pounded along with his. We both knew that wicked punishment or even death awaited us if we were caught. Somehow, it made the moment that much more magical. A romance forged in prison.
My mouth parted as his did. I whimpered when he licked my tongue. I craved more, needed more, but tonight wasn’t about me. His hard erection pressed into my ass, so I wriggled a bit until he groaned. Still kissing, tangled tongues and soft lips, I reached my hand to his belt buckle and unfastened it.
He didn’t stop me.
I didn’t breathe as I fumbled for the clasp and dove my fingers down inside. I closed my eyes as I touched his hot, throbbing cock. I’d never touched a man before. He’d felt me up and made me come over his lap, but I’d never touched Santo.
I had to make it better. I wanted to bring him one small moment of joy, something to take his mind off the daily misery he dwelt in.
Still kissing, I fingered the tip, felt the precum moisten my fingers and used it to glide up and down his shaft. I moved to the side to give myself more room. His hands slid up my sides and down, then cupped my breasts as I jerked his cock.
“Rosa,” he groaned, still kissing me, words muffled between our connected mouths. “Baby.”
I love you, I thought. I love you so much it hurts me inside. I love you so much… so much.
His head fell to the side, but he still gripped me. Intent on pleasing him, I followed his cues to move my hand up and down. He pulled my hand to his mouth and licked my palm. I glided my moist palm over his hardened cock and relished every second of his guttural groans.
“Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me come. Stop, Rosa,” he whispered.
I shook my head. “Don’t make me stop. I want to do this for you. Let me.”
He didn’t fight again. His hips jerked with every stroke of my palm. He gripped the back of my head, yanked me to him, and slammed his mouth on mine as his hips jerked and he came with a groan I’d remember forever.
I slowed my strokes until he slumped against me. He held me.
“Fuck, baby,” he repeated, in a calmer tone now. Less tortured. I loved the sound of his voice.
I laid my head on his shoulder.
“Feel better?”
“You always make me feel better.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Santo
I pace the outer room, while I imagine her laid out on the bed. I feel as if I’ve been given a gift, but my time is short. Like I hold a genie in a bottle. I only have three wishes. The sooner I make my wish, the sooner my riches and good fortune will evaporate. And where I’ll be when the dust settles… I might be grateful to harvest fucking grapes again.
I silence my phone and place it on the table. After the meeting with Tavi and the others today, our jobs are straightforward. Read surveillance. Search for clues that will lead us to whoever’s betrayed us. Use Elise for an inside job, if necessary.
Tavi will want to avoid that if possible, and I don’t fucking blame him.
I hear Rosa’s soft breathing in the other room and thank God that I have her with me.
For now.
Goddamn, what I wouldn’t do to make that always.
I’m told I’m a solid strategist. If I am, why can’t I unlock the key to the one mystery I’ve never known how to solve?
Make Rosa mine.
I hear her fidget on the bed and head to the doorway. My heart swells when I see her, naked and trusting, her fearless blue eyes meeting mine across the room. Slowly, I slide into the dominant headspace I reside in. My need to correct her. The craving I have to overpower her.