Sweet Collateral

“So fucking beautiful.” Wrenching my legs apart, he thrusts two fingers inside me. My oxygen cuts off for a second, and my vision blanks out. “I want to ruin you, Anna. Nothing so pure should exist.”

I swallow heavily as his words evoke just a hint of fear. “Rafael.”

His lips pull into a wry smile, and he pulls his fingers out, thrusting back in hard enough to shunt me up the bed. Leaning over, he kisses me. “Are you scared, little warrior?”

Our eyes lock, and I know I could never truly be scared of him. “No,” I whisper.

“I wanted to protect you from everything. Even me.” His jaw clenches and his eyes shut. “But you make me crazy.” He pulls his fingers out of me and brings them to my mouth. I close my lips around the digits, watching him as I suck the taste of myself from his skin. A feral growl tears from him, and he pulls his hand away, slamming it around my throat. His hips roll, grinding his hard cock against me. “See what you do to me.”

He’s pushing every boundary I have, and yet I want it. I don’t want to be the precious little flower that he reins himself in for. I want this: his violence, his destruction, his unbridled lust. I’m ready.

“Fuck me, Rafe,” I breathe, sounding far braver than I feel. Anyone else and I’d be a mess right now, but it’s him. My exception.

The clink of his belt buckle sounds, and then he’s driving into me, claiming me, taking everything he wants, everything I’m willing to give. Harsh fingers dig into my hips and throat hard enough to bruise, and my back bows from the bed, my body contorting and writhing in time with his own personal tune. Gripping my jaw, he turns my head, pressing my cheek into the worn comforter.

Hot lips brush over my cheek before he nips my ear. “Look at him, little warrior. Look at what you did.” I look at Dominges’ body bent as it is over the back of the chair. Blood drips steadily from the bullet that tore through the back of his skull. “So violent,” he groans against my ear, thrusting into me.

He fucks me hard and fast, completely unlike any of the other times before. It’s different, but we’re different. Torn apart and brought back together. Both loving each other, whilst torturing each other. That’s what this is. It’s beautiful but painful. Love within war. The perfect contradiction—just as we have always been. I allow myself to get swept up in him, caught in the vortex of power and chaos that swirls so effortlessly around him. It’s infectious and hypnotic. Reaching for him, I grip his face in both hands and kiss him. His tongue invades my mouth just as surely as the rest of his body, and I moan, biting down on his lip. I lose any sense of time or reality until I’m left screaming his name, begging, pleading. A sick smile pulls at his lips as he watches me shatter for him. Grabbing my hips, he slams into me several times, spitting my name like a curse before finally pulling away from me.

He staggers back a few steps, chest heaving and shoulders tense. The reality of the situation dawns on me, and I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. What have I become? I’m here in some dirty room—that is undoubtedly used for paying customers to fuck unwilling girls in—fucking Rafael in front of Dominges’ dead body.

Rafe drags a hand through his hair, and then tugs his pants back into place. His movements are jerky and agitated, and I can feel the void of space opening up between us. He tosses my clothes at me.

“Get dressed. We need to go,” he says, and then simply walks out, closing the door behind him. He left me in here naked, with a dead body. I’ve never felt more like a whore.

I quickly dress and open the door, keeping my face tilted down as blood heats my cheeks. I know the men out here probably heard that.

“Hey, you okay?” I glance up at the sound of Lucas’ voice. His eyes study my face, concern pinching his brows together.

“I’m fine.”

“Dominges?”

“Dead.”

He nods but says nothing else. Rafael is nowhere to be seen, but his guys are systematically going from door to door of each motel room, and pulling out girls. Each of them is led to a minibus waiting in the middle of the dirt parking lot. Carlos stands there with his crutches, helping each of them inside, one by one.

“Where are they taking the girls?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Rafael’s saving them?” I ask.

Lucas shrugs one shoulder. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” It is, but he told me it couldn’t be done. Truthfully, I have no idea where Rafael and I stand, but he’s still rescuing these girls…for me. Or perhaps it’s not for me. He says he’s a bad man, and he is. A bad man with a heart of gold.