El Santo (Saint-Sinner 1) - Page 14

From the corner of my eye, I could see Amira was about to take off, but not because she was scared of me. She now understood how serious I was about getting her to safety. I hauled her over to me by her arm, kicking and screaming before she even had a chance to haul ass. Putting up one hell of a fight to escape. Whipping her body around, she desperately tried to get out of my hold.

“Jesus Christ, Amira! Enough!” I roared once I threw her over my shoulder.

“Let me go,” she gritted, pulling at my arms. Scratching my hands, my back, anywhere she could. I barely wavered. “You don’t want to do this! I know you don’t want to send me away!”

“Amira, calm the fuck down!” I reasoned, only pissing her off further. Grabbing her by the wrists, halting her assault.

“Please! Please! I don’t want to go! Don’t do this, Damien! Please don’t do this!” Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and my body twisted with nothing but longing to fall apart. To finally let out all the emotions that were wreaking havoc on my core.

Not just from tonight, but from every moment since we laid eyes on each other.

“I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!” she screamed, wanting to get some sort of reaction out of me.

I stepped onto the speedboat, wading through the sea of fifteen to twenty people to get to her seat. Taking a minute to wipe off the son of a bitch’s blood with the sleeve of my jacket. As soon as I set her down, she crumbled in her seat. Looking out over at the water, not wanting to see me anymore. The slight breeze blew through her hair, visibly making her shiver. I ignored the stinging pain I felt from seeing her like that, it was minor compared to the pain she was feeling in her heart.

I crouched down in front of her, dodging her attempts to push me away, making her look at me instead. “I’m so fucking sorry…” I murmured, my voice breaking.

My heart shattering.

My world coming the fuck apart.

“One day, you’ll understand that this was the best decision for you.” With that, I kissed the top of her head for the last time, spun and left. Turning my back on the one girl who I loved with all my heart.

Our lives would forever change after that day.

Especially mine.

I didn’t give a fuck what time it was, I went straight to a bar and drank until I felt numb. By the time I stumbled back to my apartment, it was into the wee hours of the morning. Fumbling with my keys to get the front door open. Failing miserably to hold myself together. Except, I wish I could tell you I was expecting what happened next…

But I didn’t.

Not for one goddamn second.

I sat on the bed, taking in my surroundings. From the pictures on the walls, to the comforter below me, to the dark furniture that lined the room. My eyes couldn’t focus on one thing for very long, it hurt too much. I don’t know how long I sat there in that very spot, sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, unable to move. Frozen in place.

I loved him.

I hated him.

Two conflicting feelings my heart couldn’t take. I mostly loved him still, but I wanted to hate him even more.

I hugged my arms around my torso, shivering from the cold, or maybe it was from my heart being ripped away from me. The absence of his warmth that brought me so much security was long gone. I sat there in a state of shock, trying to wrap my head around why he would do this to me, to us. Why he thought this was the best decision for me. As if I was still a child and couldn’t think for myself. I felt every emotion and then some, sitting in the dark room. It seemed so foreign, so unfamiliar or maybe that was just me. Feeling as though I had aged years and years in a short amount of time.

What would I do now?

I was beyond lost, not knowing which side was up, down, left, or right. Confused and disoriented among my own thoughts. Once again, the sanctuary in my mind was a void with nowhere to be found so I gave up, lying down on the bed that felt like a stranger’s. Curling up into a ball, trying to seek comfort within my empty embrace. I shut my eyes. Unable to keep them open any longer. Extremely exhausted in every sense of the word. I must have passed out, letting the darkness creep over me. Suffocating any light that was left within me.

My eyes started to flutter open and they instantly darted to the shadowy figure I saw out of the corner of my eye, coming face to face with the man I thought I would never see again.

“Please, tell me I’m fucking hallucinating right now and you’re not sleeping in my fucking bed,” Damien rasped in a tone I didn’t recognize.

The stench of alcohol immediately assaulted my senses. I could see his eyes were bloodshot red from the dim lighting of the moon. He was sitting in the armchair in the corner of his room, diagonally across from me. His lax body leaned back into the chair with his fingers perched against his lips.

I slowly sat up in the center of the bed, tucking my legs underneath me. Wrapping my arms around my torso, suddenly feeling cold again. Wishing the mattress would swallow me whole just to avoid the displeased expression on his face. Hating myself for disappointing him, yet again.

“If I told you I was an illusion, would you not be mad at me?” I questioned barely above a whisper.

He breathed out, shaking his head. “I’m way past mad. What the fuck, Amira? Do you have any idea how much planning it took to get you on that fucking boat?”

I muffled, “No, but I never asked you to do that.”

“Excuse me? If you’re going to show up at my fucking apartment, in my fucking bed you can’t pussy out now. The damage is already fucking done. You’re. Still. Here.”

He didn’t usually curse at me like this, or at least not this much. I assumed it had to be the liquor talking or he was just exceedingly upset with me. I chose to believe the first one.

“I said no. But I didn’t ask you to do that,” I repeated, louder that time.

He chuckled, rubbing his fingers along the ridges of his lips. “Un-fucking-believable. What did you do? Jump off the boat?”

“No. I just waited for you to leave and before the boat pushed back from the dock, I nicely asked the gentleman if he would let me off.”

“Nicely, eh?”

“Yeah. He just watched you kill someone at point blank. It was a good introduction for me, and it worked in my favor. God rest his soul. The man was scared of you, so he let me go.”

“If he had been scared of me, he wouldn’t have dared to let you off that fucking boat. Besides, that motherfucker had it coming. He was corrupt as fuck. He’s lucky to have survived that long. Don’t worry, his soul was already resting in Hell before my fucking bullet hit his head.”

I swallowed hard, nodding.

“I don’t murder innocent people, Muñeca.”

“But you do murder people?” I blurted, regretting the question as soon as it left my mouth. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“Why? Because you suddenly don’t want to know my truths and fucking business?”

I shook my head. “I just know you don’t like answering my questions.”

“I see, so you’ve become obedient in the last few hours. Might have meant something if you actually stayed on the goddamn boat.”

I didn’t say anything because what could I say to that?

“How did you get in?”

My eyes widened, not wanting to tell him.

“Don’t make me ask you again, Amira.”

I didn’t. He was being the calm Damien again, although he was burning inside.

From me.

I loved it…

And I hated it.

But I loved it more, I think.

“With a key, I stole it from Mama Rosa’s keychain when I noticed she had a spare.”

“So now you’re a liar and a thief?” he insolently stated, even though it came out as a question.

I winced, hugging myself tighter. “I was just trying to have a backup plan. In case I ever needed to run from Mama Rosa’s house and hide.”

His face went sullen as he

narrowed his eyes at me. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Sometimes I don’t tell you things.”

“Since when? Most of the time I can’t get you to shut the fuck up.” He placed his index finger out in front of his lips. “I’m sorry, Muñeca. I didn’t mean that. It’s been a long fucking day, and I’m hanging on by a thread here. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. You say shitty things when you’re mad or upset. Almost like a child throwing a temper tantrum,” I replied, showing him I could say mean things too.

He grinned. “Did you ever stop and think those are the kinds of things I needed to know?”

“Yes. Which is why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry about me. You already do enough of that. I mean, look what you did tonight. You were trying to send me away—”

He was over to me in three strides, standing near the edge of the bed, slamming his fists into the mattress between us. “For the last fucking time, I was not sending you away!”

I didn’t falter. If I did, I would lose. I made my way over to him on my hands and knees, stopping when our faces were inches apart.

Adamantly countering, “That’s what it felt like to me. All you do is make choices for me. What I need, what I want, how I feel… it’s bullshit! I’m not a little girl anymore, if I ever truly was one. I’ve lived through my own darkness and watched you battle yours for years. I may not know exactly what you do, but know I don’t have to wonder. You showed me tonight. And you want to know something? I don’t care! It’s not who you are. It’s who you think you have to be!”

He jerked back like I had slapped him across the face. I knew it was the liquor lowering his guard. He would’ve never showed me his emotions otherwise. That wasn’t who Damien was, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to use it to my advantage. Standing up for what I believed in and felt in my heart.

“Don’t ever do that to me again! Do you understand me?” I repeated the statement he always said to me with the same hard edge in my tone. “We’re in this life together for the long run. Whether it’s in Cuba under Emilio Salazar’s “Fatherland”, or in any other part of the world under Damien Montero’s demons. We’re family. You’re”—I stabbed my finger over his heart, moving to stand in front of him— “my family. And we don’t turn our backs on each other. Ever!” I paused, allowing what I said to sink into his thick, stubborn skull. “I love you, and I know you love me. I’ve known you loved me every second of every single day for almost six years. I don’t need to hear you say it. They’re just words. Your actions have always spoken louder than any of those endearments. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized that I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I can remember.”

“Amira—”

In that moment.

In that minute.

I kissed him.

Even though I had no experience, no knowledge, no anything of what I was doing. I couldn’t help myself. I had to feel his lips on mine. I had to show him, prove to him that he loved me as much as I loved him. He was just too scared to think it, to feel it, to act on it, so I did it for him. Wanting him to finally see me as the young woman I was, and not the little girl he saved.

I didn’t need saving anymore.

He did.

The second I parted my lips, he roughly gripped onto my hair by the nook of my neck. Crudely yanking my head back and off his mouth. I gasped, feeling the intrusion on my scalp in a heavenly and sinful sensation. My chest was rising and falling as I stared into his eyes, dark and dilated in a mesmerizing way. Captivating every last part of me from my head down to the tips of my toes, and all he was doing was glaring at me. Clinging to my core in the exact manner he was clutching onto my hair. I didn’t move an inch. Panicked that if I did, he would stop and I would never get to experience him looking at me like that again.

“Please,” I panted for I don’t know what.

Baiting him. Tempting him. Breaking him.

And then I saw it.

Clear as day.

The thin string he talked about minutes ago, snapped.

It was loud.

It was chaotic.

It was everything I ever wanted.

Him.

He growled from deep within his chest, crashing his mouth onto mine. Clutching the side of my face with his hands, he bit my bottom lip. Unmercifully slamming me hard into the wall behind us, causing my mouth to fly open from the pleasure and pain of his touch. He growled again, but this time he plunged his dominant, hot tongue into my awaiting and willing mouth. Teasing me with the tip, all along the outline of my lips. Seeking out my tongue.

My senses heightened, taking in the scent of cigarettes, and that sweet, malty taste of the alcohol that lingered in his mouth. I would never be able to smell that scent without thinking about Damien in this very moment.

The taste of him.

The feel of him.

The scent of him.

Was all around me…

Branding itself into every pore of my body. Hundreds of thoughts and questions crossed my mind, but it didn’t matter because my heart already knew the answers.

There was something agonizing and desperate in the way his mouth moved against mine, as I tried to follow the momentum of his lips. My hands reached up, trying to touch him, but he intercepted them. Gripping both of my wrists in one of his hands, placing them above my head on the wall.

He couldn’t let me touch him.

He wouldn’t be able to control himself.

And Damien was all about control, even though he was losing himself with me, right then and there.

His grasp burned against my wrists. Searing and scarring me in ways I may never be able to recover from. With his other fingers, he ran them down the length of my arm, stopping when he reached my face. It felt like he wanted to caress my body, cup my breasts, and make me moan from his touch.

Make. Me. His.

Instead, he brushed my cheek and down the back of my neck. Pulling me closer to him, but not nearly close enough. I wanted him to mold us into one person, forever a part of one another. My body curved into his as my inexperienced tongue pushed into his mouth, causing him to groan at the taste of me. I tried to follow each and every lead he was giving me. Praying I was doing it justice, having the same effect on him that he was on me.

“Damien…” I moaned, causing him to simultaneously pull away.

He released my wrists, and I whimpered at the loss of his warmth as he placed his hands on the sides of my face. Caging me in with his arms, everything felt right and I never wanted to leave. He hovered above me, panting for air. Both of us trying to find our bearings. I didn’t want to open my eyes, terrified that this would be an illusion of my lovestruck mind. It wasn’t until I finally opened them that I saw what I had so urgently needed to see.

Love.

His love for me.

Just as quickly as I saw it, he turned and left. Fully aware that he let his guard down, allowing me in. For the first time in his life, I controlled him. Even if it was only for a few minutes.

Petrifying him more than anything had in a long time.

He was mine.

And I had always known that…

After our kiss, he left. I didn’t feel the need to follow after him, mostly because I knew a part of me still lingered on his mouth. I just laid back down on his bed, making myself comfortable, incessantly rubbing my fingers over my swollen lips. Tasting him all over again, and he wasn’t even there. I thought about Damien in a way I never had before, and it put a smile on my face. A different kind of smile. In that moment, I felt older. More mature in my fifteen-year-old skin. It was amazing how one kiss could instantly change a girl, and I was no exception.

The sound of Damien's footsteps coming down the hall, back into his room, brought me out of my desirable, pleasurable thoughts. I instantly rolled over to my side, putting my back toward the door. Pretending like I was sleeping. I heard him shuffling around, opening an

d closing drawers. Making his way into the en-suite bathroom and turning on the shower. There was something mischievous about knowing Damien was only a few feet away naked, vulnerable, and exposed. The feeling sent tingles to all sorts of uncharted places on my body, mind, and soul. It thrilled me, filling my mind with thoughts I never considered before that night.

The bathroom door opened minutes later, and out walked Damien filling the space with steam and his masculine fresh scent. He shut all the blinds and curtains, making sure the early morning dawn disappeared, and possibly the world too. Replacing it with the comfort of the darkness that we were both acquainted to. The way he effortlessly moved around the room, made me wonder if he’d spent a lot of mornings just like this. Coming home when the sun was starting its day. A sense of jealously washed over me, thinking he was with a woman, and if she had been lying where I was right now.

Waiting for him like me.

As soon as I felt the bed dip behind me, I stopped thinking. At least about his other conquests. Once again waiting for his next move. Nothing happened for what felt like forever, but I swear I could feel his conflicting emotions soaring through me. As if I was the one experiencing them firsthand. I inadvertently began to follow the soft rhythm of his breathing like I did every time after a nightmare had reared its ugly head. The gentle lull slowly rocked me back to sleep. Before I knew it, I was dozing off, about to slip into a deep sleep when I thought I felt his arm wrap around my stomach, turning me over to rest my head on his chest.

I sighed in contentment, melting into his warm frame. Allowing myself to relax under his feather touch as he lazily rubbed my back and played with my hair like all he needed was to have me close to his heart.

I was convinced I must have been dreaming because I woke up the next afternoon alone. My eyes sleepily searched the room for any sign of Damien. He wasn’t there.

The smell of coffee flowed into the bedroom, lifting me from my blissful haze. I sat up, taking a second to stretch, still exhausted from the night’s events. Wanting to hop in the shower to rinse away the filth I felt coating my skin, I figured it might be better to give Damien more alone time that he obviously desired. I jumped into the warm water cascading from the showerhead above, not taking long to wash my hair and body. Using all of Damien’s toiletries made me giddy. Knowing I would be able to take home his scent on every inch of my skin.


Tags: M. Robinson Saint-Sinner Erotic
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