“What? Where? What about my father?” She throws questions at me as she wraps the towel around her body.
“We’re flying tonight, make sure you pack those bikinis I had Valentina purchase,” I tell her, already picturing her in those tiny scraps of material.
“You haven’t answered my questions.” The fire I’ve come to know and love about her shimmers and dances in her eyes.
“All you need to know is that we’re going on vacation,” I tell her. “Your father will be cared for while we’re away.”
I turn to leave her, but she asks, “Am I going to be your arm candy again? Why can’t you take one of your whores?”
Spinning on my heel, I eat up the distance between us and grip her neck so tight, her face turns a soft shade of pink, darkening with every passing second.
“If you question me, I will make you pay,” I bite out. “You’re the only woman I want on my arm. No fucking whore will pleasure me while I have you.”
“While?” she chokes out. She doesn’t claw at my hand like the first time I had my hand wrapped around the slender column of her neck. Pushing my thigh between her legs, I press against her core, feeling her heat.
“You’re mine, juguete, understand that, know that, and never fucking question me again.”
“Victor,” she pleads, forcing me to loosen my grip on her. “I can’t keep doing this.” Her voice is a soft murmur of pain and agony.
My hand is no longer squeezing, and I allow my thumb to trace her fat bottom lip, watching as her tongue comes into view. I force the digit onto her pink tongue and press down, so her mouth opens further.
“You are not leaving me,” I tell her, my tone ominous, and she shivers at the warning. “The moment you walk off this property is the day I kill you.”
Sofía sucks on my thumb, her teeth grazing the flesh, which elicits a groan from deep within my throat. My cock throbs with need to be in her mouth. I pull away from her, my hands already working the buckle of my belt.
“Get on your knees,” I command, and she simply obeys. My cock is a steel rod when I grip it in my fist, and she looks up at me with those innocent eyes, which nearly has me coming undone. “Open your mouth and take me.”
Sofía obeys. I don’t wait to slide my dick into her warmth, deeper and deeper, until I feel the back of her throat constrict and the sound of her gagging fills my ears. Spit drips from her chin. My left hand is planted on the wall behind her, my other hand fisting her hair, tugging her head back and forth, as I fuck her mouth.
“I fucking own you.” My voice is scratchy, filled with need and a yearning I’ve never felt before, which scares the shit out of me. “You are mine.” Each word is enunciated by a thrust of my hips. Her tongue works my shaft, her throat vibrates around the tip, and my balls draw up in pleasure.
Every inch of my body grows tight with the impending release about to shatter me, and my eyes shut for a second as I bury myself so deep, I feel her convulse, and that’s when I empty my seed down her throat.
She works quickly, swallowing me like I’m her fucking sustenance. This woman is never leaving my fucking side because I can’t let her go, and I will kill her if she even attempts to. She’s burrowing her way under my ironclad armor, and day by day, I’m lost to her innocence, her sweetness, and the light that shines in her eyes whenever she looks at me.
I catch her staring, and it’s those times when she looks past the darkness that I hide behind that I don’t feel like the monster that everyone believes I am. It’s only in these short moments that I feel like someone worthy of her.
Sofía rises from her position, and I’m still staring into nothing when she touches my face gently. Her fingertips burn white hot against my skin, and I drop my gaze to hers and then I see it—that look.
In this very moment, Sofía looks at me like I’m a man—not a Cartel king, not the Devil, not a violent criminal, but a man who she cares for. And it’s that look that stalls my heart in my chest.
“Are you okay?” Her question is soft and sweet, just like her. My mouth falls open, but I can’t respond, because it’s right then that I want to admit my feelings. I want to tell her to stay, to never turn and leave, but I don’t.
Never show weakness.
Never show emotion.
As much as I try to convince myself of those rules my father set out for me, I know they’re a lie. She’s become more to me than I care to admit.