His words should intimidate me. They should make my heart leap and then pound down on my ribcage. They should terrify me, send me running… but for some reason, they don’t. My heart hardly reacts.
“Well, if I die, it’ll be a sacrifice I’m willing make.” I turn and press my body to his, meshing, wrapping my arm over his shoulder. “I don’t have much else to live for, Draco. Clark doesn’t need me. He’s been doing this on his own for years. The only person who needs me, whether he knows it or not, is Draco ‘The Jefe’ Molina.” His eyes shimmer from the flickering light. “I’m not backing down, and I’m not afraid to die.” I kiss him. Soft. Sweet. “I’m here, by your side. Let’s get back to the throne together.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the spark in his eye that he has now. Not ever before.
Beneath that spark lies determination, passion, ferocity, and my favorite of all, power.
A growl rides through his throat, and before I can process it, he’s between my legs again, consuming me with a kiss. Before it can register to my brain, he’s fully inside me, stroking softly. Not rough.
No hate.
No anger.
It’s gentle.
Sweet.
Sexy.
Perfection.
My moans ignite as he shudders, his cock pulsing inside me, lips on my neck, gripping me tight. My fingernails skate down his muscled back, digging into his hips, needing him to go deeper.
“It is our throne now,” he whispers in my ear, and then he stills, coming for the third time tonight, groaning softly in my ear like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “And I’m glad you know it, reina.”
33
DRACO
She’s lying beside me the next morning, her brown hair stretched out on the white pillow, wisps of it over her face.
I push the gold strands of hair away from her face, watching her breathe. Sigh. Moan in her sleep. Her skin is a soft shade of tan, the sunlight sweeping over her naked body with each inch spilling over the horizon.
My skin is much darker in comparison to hers, my hands appearing too rough to touch someone who still seems so delicate. I lay my hand on her shoulder, my palm sliding down her arm, dipping into the curve that leads to her hip.
I wish I could say I hate her.
I wish I could just walk away.
I don’t know when I became so fucking weak for this woman.
I shouldn’t fucking love her this much—I shouldn’t care.
Love is a fucking weakness.
Useless. Futile.
I will go to war for my business, for my deceased cousin—for my father’s name, and my mother’s freedom. I will set fire to anyone who disrespects me by letting him or her know who the king is…and she wants to do the same.
But if she dies…
If I lose her…
A sigh escapes me as I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling fan. It’s the crack of dawn, a light breeze making the curtains flap. The breeze drifts over my sweat-dampened skin.
Sleeping didn’t happen last night. It didn’t matter how completely satisfied my body was due to having her precious pussy wrapped around me, I still couldn’t close my eyes.
Too many thoughts are running through my mind. Too much I want to do, but can’t just yet. Not until the time is right. Not until I find that spiteful bitch and choke the life right out of her.
Gianna sighs, and I look over at her, just as she twitches in her sleep and groans, brows stitching. She has nightmares. I know it. I have them myself. They’re a grueling package deal that comes with wanting to be one of the most powerful, most dangerous people on earth.
I should send her away again, but she’ll only come running back.
Like a moth to a flame, she won’t be able to stay away from me.
And the truth is, I can’t stay away from her, either. It’s so fucking selfish of me. Instead of wanting her gone—back where it’s safe—I’d rather keep her here, around me. Letting her risk her life for mine. Risk it all for me.
Now, I see that I am not only fighting my own battle—I am fighting hers too.
She deserves happiness. Deserves to be free. She deserves to win, for once, get everything she’s ever wanted. And as soon as this is all over, she will.
I will give her the fucking world.
I will give her my all.
She will be happy.
Finally.
34
GIANNA
His side of the bed is empty when I awake. It’s not too cold, so maybe he just left.
Running a hand over my face, I toss the sheets away and press my feet on the tile floor, making way for the bathroom. I take a quick shower and get dressed in white shorts and a loosely knitted summer sweater that hangs off the shoulder.
I walk to the patio door, drawing it open and stepping onto the balcony. The warm breeze runs over my damp scalp, so soothing. It’s not too hot yet. The sun isn’t fully in the sky, but something tells me that when it is, the day will blaze away.