Stolen Innocence (Stolen 0.5)

“This will be our little secret,” he told me, his thin lips curved in a lascivious smile. A bulge appeared in his slacks, and I now recognized the sign of male desire. “I’ll make sure you take up horseback riding. Vicente will never know why your hymen is broken.”

I pulled the covers up higher, as though they could serve as a shield between us. “Leave me alone.” I tried to sound strong and defiant, but it came out as a horrified whisper.

He reached my bed. Forgetting my modesty, I tried to roll away, struggling to get to my feet and evade him somehow.

His thick fingers tangled in my hair, jerking me back and yanking me down. His weight settled over me, crushing the air from my chest. I drew in a desperate breath and let it out on a terrified scream. His meaty hand clamped over my mouth. I twisted, shoving at his chest. He caught my flailing arms, pinning them above my head with his free hand. I was trapped, helpless. When Adrián had held me so ruthlessly in the jungle, my body had softened for him. Now, I tensed and jerked, fear thrumming through me. Horror suffused my system when Hugo didn’t budge.

He was going to have sex with me. He was going to take my virginity, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

My panicked shriek was muffled by his hand on my mouth, and his fingers bit into my cheeks as he held me down with brutal strength.

A feral roar filled the room, reverberating through my body. Hugo was torn from me, and I sucked in a desperate breath as his weight left my chest.

Adrián tackled him to the floor, their bodies hitting the hardwoods with a dull thud. Adrián brought his fist down on Hugo’s jaw, and blood sprayed from his lips as his head snapped to the side.

But Hugo was bigger than Adrián. The bulky man wrestled the boy, managing to pin him. Suddenly, he was the one delivering the beating, and I screamed as his fists slammed into Adrián’s face.

“Stop!” I shrieked. “Please, stop!”

Hugo’s attention jerked to me for a moment, his beady eyes narrowing on me. Adrián took advantage of his distraction, gaining the upper hand again. He landed another punch across Hugo’s jaw, and the older man reeled back. Adrián shoved him down, his fingers curling into Hugo’s shirt as he slammed him against the floor.

“She’s not yours!” he snarled into Hugo’s face, blood dripping from his lips.

Hugo abruptly held up his hands in a show of surrender. “Fine,” he hissed. “She belongs to Vicente. Don’t even think about tattling on me to your father, boy,” he added, his voice soft with menace.

“You don’t come near her again,” Adrián bit out. “You don’t touch her.”

Hugo shoved him away, and Adrián allowed the doughy man to get to his feet. He shot a contemptuous sneer my way, then turned sharply and stalked out of my room.

Adrián’s fists clenched at his sides, his body practically vibrating with lingering violence. Suddenly, he rounded on me, his green eyes blazing. I shrank back, but he advanced on me anyway. His hands closed around my upper arms, yanking me against his hard chest.

“No one touches you,” he growled at me.

“Adrián,” I whimpered his name. “You’re scaring me.”

His grip on my arms eased, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. I heard him inhale deeply, and he nuzzled my hair. He dropped a tender kiss on my shoulder. I felt the warmth of his blood on my skin. My own blood heated, even as I trembled in his arms.

“Don’t be scared, conejita,” he murmured. “I won’t let him touch you. No one touches you,” he said again, his voice dropping deeper as his arms firmed around me. “You’re mine.”

From that moment on, I belonged to Adrián.Chapter 5AdriánOne Year Later“Happy Birthday, conejita.” I cuddled Valentina closer, and she snuggled into my bare chest with a happy sigh. For a year, I’d snuck into her room and slept with her almost every night. We spent our days together, too: studying, watching her telenovelas, playing chess. And playing rougher, darker games when I chased her through the jungle. We were inseparable, and I didn’t think I’d know how to breathe if I weren’t sharing the same air as Valentina.

I’d never allowed myself to do more than kiss her, even though it caused me physical pain to deny myself. The longer I possessed her, the more obsessed I became with preserving her innocence. I’d keep her safe from everyone, even myself. I still held her with harsh passion, some of my sadism bleeding out on occasion. I left marks on her skin with my hands and my teeth, but I didn’t allow myself more. I’d never even touched her bare body. I’d never seen her naked.