Violent Delights (White Monarch 1)

I held my breath as he lined himself up between my hips, then fisted the sheets as he began to press inside me. “Good?” he asked.

My body resisted at first, but with a push, he slid in partway, and I exhaled with relief. Any pain I might’ve experienced was non-existent under Diego’s care. “Yes, weird.”

His eyebrows rose. “Weird?”

I covered my mouth. I’d meant to agree with him. It was good, of course. I was exactly where I wanted to be. But in a way, it was also strange. I had dreamed of this moment, worried it might never come. Diego had always been around, watching over me, protecting and shielding me. I remembered looking up to him as a girl, too young to recognize I was falling in love with my best friend.

And then realizing he was more than a best friend.

He was a man, and I was head over heels for him. I hadn’t come down to Earth since; I was still floating on cloud nine.

In his green eyes, I saw everything—a past that consisted of pain and support and unconditional love. A present that added to the framework of our promising future. He’d looked upon me this same way many times, with hope and tenderness.

“We’ve known each other so long. We’ve talked about this and now we’re doing it—what I’m trying to say is . . .” I glanced away. Weird? I felt silly I’d picked the wrong word to describe this.

He turned my face back to his and pecked me. “Keep going. Tell me every thought you have in that beautiful brain.”

I smiled a little as my muscles loosened, and I relaxed deeper into the mattress. “The weird part is that being with you now isn’t as strange as my friends said the first time would be. I’m . . . I’m happy.”

“I know you are,” he said. “I recognize my own feelings in your eyes.”

He slipped his arms under me to cradle my shoulders as he nuzzled my cheek. He pressed his lips there, then to the corner of my mouth.

I wrapped my legs around him and urged him deeper.

“You’ve been one of the only constants in my life,” he said. “There were times even Costa overlooked me. But you, well . . . your love continues to anchor me.”

“And me,” I said.

He relaxed on top of me, giving me more of his body weight—he finally let go. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he entered me completely. He stayed rooted there a moment as our breath synced, then drew back and drove inside me. I bit my bottom lip, expecting some kind of pain, but it only felt right. And his first plunge only made me crave the next.

As I picked up the rhythm of his lovemaking, I met his thrusts with my hips. Each move he made came with a tender caress or a look of askance, making sure I was comfortable. He was every inch the gentleman, but I sensed there was also a hunger for me he kept bridled so as not to hurt me. I looked forward to unleashing that passion in him.

His drives became hungrier, faster, harder. His hand slipped between us and he knew just the right place to touch me to bring me to the edge. He looked down on me, arresting my gaze. Any time I got shy or my lids started to fall shut with pleasure, he called me back. The electricity between us crackled, pulling me out of this world and into a deeper state of love with him. It was just us, nothing else existed, and suddenly my body was spasming, drawing him deeper, contracting around him as he shuddered and came along with me.

Neither of us moved for a while, and I didn’t want it any other way. My only desire was to stay in Diego’s embrace and receive the love he showered on me.

To be with him for as long as time would allow.

And to bask in the glow of knowing that in only two nights, I’d officially be a de la Rosa.

19

Natalia

Church bells pealed overhead as Pilar and I navigated our way to the church. We opened the gate, passed the garden, and found an unlocked door in back.

How Diego had secured the church so quickly, and on Easter, I had no idea, but he’d sent word that someone would come for me when it was time.

Inside, I found us an empty room with some chairs and a full-length mirror. I set down a garment bag and tote, disturbing a cloud of dust motes that sparkled in the light coming from gothic-style windows.

“Can you get out my dress?” I asked Pilar, unpinning my hair since I’d put it up to set.

“Why are we here?” She unzipped the bag.

My hair fell to my waist in large shiny black curls. I looked at Pilar in the mirror. “Because I’m getting married today.”