The Devil's Plaything

“He hates me,” I tell Victor.

“Not really hate,” he responds, “More like wariness. He doesn’t like seeing me hurt.”

“And he thinks I’ll hurt you?” I laugh, the thought of it is ridiculous. I’m an eighteen-year-old girl falling in love with a violent criminal and they think I’m the dangerous one. Perhaps I’m insane, but I’m certainly not dangerous.

Victor places a hand on my leg, his grip hard, and unyielding before he leans in to whisper his lips across my cheek. “He thinks you’ll break my heart.”

“Do you have one?” I counter, causing him to chuckle in amusement.

He shakes his head. “No, juguete,” he says. “I don’t have one. I locked it up a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter how magical your pussy is, it’s never going to be released into your hands.”

“Do you always have to be so disgusting?” I bite out, pulling my leg away, but he only grips it harder and drags it over his. I’m open to him and he can now toy with me once more.

“I thought you liked it when I was disgusting,” he taunts. “I thought you liked it when I did filthy things to you?” His fingers dance along my inner thigh, teasing a pathway up to my core. “And I know you get wet when I hold you down and take what I want.”

“That’s… That… I’m…” My words falter when his index finger draws circles along my mound, toying with my clit through the thin material that covers me.

“You’re?” he arches a brow at me in question, waiting for me to speak, but he knows I can’t find my words because, once again, he’s taking me to the edge, and I can’t focus on anything other than my orgasm. “I thought so.”

A chuckle leaves his lips, and I curse myself for being so weak to his ministrations. He does things to my body that I can’t deny turn me needy for him. And I wonder if that’s how it’s always going to be, all he has to do is touch me and I fall into his arms.

It makes no sense. I didn’t think I would feel anything for him, but I’m slowly lowering my walls with him. I’ve seen glimpses of a man—the gentle side beneath the cold exterior that he puts on for others.

I thought he was pure evil, but there is another side to him. A broken, scared man who’s been hurt before. And I wonder if that’s why he hides behind the high walls he’s built. Perhaps he’s trying to keep himself safe.

Am I breaking through? Am I the one person he’s finally letting in?

I want to believe that my feelings for him are real and that he’s not going to throw me out when he’s done with me. And as much as I try to ignore how my heart aches for him to be near me, I can’t deny something inside me has changed, and it’s calling to him.

26

Victor

The moment we land, one of my cars is waiting, and the driver helps us with our luggage. The tension between Javier and Sofía is thick and suffocating, and I know I need to diffuse the situation as soon as possible.

I know he’s looking out for me, but I need him to trust me. I can handle the beauty, but I have a feeling it’s my feelings he’s concerned about. The drive to the house is silent, filled with excitement from beside me, where Sofía is perched on the edge of her seat, looking at the beach as we drive through the narrow streets.

It’s hot, humid, and I’m already thinking of all the ways I can get her into the ocean and claim her with my dick. When I’m around her, nothing seems to make sense, especially my emotions. The need to make her mine, to mark her makes no sense to me.

It’s been a very long time since I ever wanted to claim someone. To have her and keep her as mine. The last time I allowed those feelings in, I had to kill the whore for cheating on me. But Sofía is different, I can see it in her actions, hear it in her words. She’s nothing like Gaia, and that’s what I should fear. Sofía may be the woman who can bring me to my knees.

The dangerous question remains—Will she kill me as I fall, or will she fall alongside me?

My focus needs to be Guillermo, and the moment she finds out we’re here to see him, I know she’ll beg and plead to talk to the man who I know is like an uncle to her. Hector spilled the name when I spoke to him last, and that’s why I have a feeling there’s more to this story with Rodrigo than meets the eye.

“Do you come here often?” Sofía asks with the innocence she possesses. The fire that’s normally present in her eyes is gone and it’s been replaced with awe.