He kissed her, and she lost herself in the thirsty strokes of his tongue, the heat of his breaths, and the promise of his hunger. She kissed the boy who haunted her and the man who filled her with dread. And somewhere between the shadows of her past and her future, she surrendered.
Whether he saw it on her face or felt it in her kiss, he knew, his eyes sparkling with flickering fire. His hands cupped her head, his fingers shaking and hips ramming as he groaned through labored breaths.
“Swear to God, Camila. I’m trying not to come.” He slammed his mouth against hers and devoured her lips with frenzied bites and licks. “I’m not stopping until you’re trembling around my cock.” He ground against her clit and hardened his voice. “Come with me.”
His command triggered a swell of electric heat between her legs. He captured her moan in his mouth, kissing her deeply, assertively, and undoing her completely.
She broke the kiss with a hoarse gasp as the orgasm rolled over her in pounding waves. He rode her through it and followed her off the edge with something akin to awe widening his eyes and slacking his mouth. Without releasing her from his gaze, he came with a rumbling groan that faded into breathlessness as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, drawing out his pleasure.
Remnant vibrations twitched and jerked between them, their breaths jagged, bodies damp with sweat, and his cock still inside her. Once her pulse returned to normal and her lungs caught up, he loosened the knots on her arms and kissed each wrist with heartbreaking affection.
His tenderness made her want impossible things. Happy endings didn’t exist in a cartel compound that housed slaves with sewn lips. She was here for them, not him, and he knew it. So why the devotion in his expression? Why bother giving her pleasure at all? Maybe he genuinely loved her. Or maybe he wanted to destroy her. Both options terrified the hell out of her.
She tensed to push him away, his weight suddenly too hot and heavy, but her liquid bones refused to move.
“Camila.” He studied her face for a moment then sighed, and pulled out of her.
He left the bed, but didn’t go far, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a washcloth.
Numb and suspicious, she lay still while he gently cleaned between her legs. Then he tossed the towel on the floor, rolled her on her side, and curled around her possessively with his chest against her back.
Caring for her. Cuddling with her. Her chest tingled with warmth, longing for more.
It was too much. Too wrong. She wriggled and shoved. “Why are you doing this?”
He refused her the distance she needed, holding her against him with an arm hooked around her ribs and a leg wedged between her thighs.
“I’ve been deprived of your touch for twelve years.” He found her hand in the bedding, twined their fingers together, and kissed her shoulder. “Now that you’re finally here, I’ll deny myself nothing.”
“If I fight and tell you no, will you fuck me anyway? Would you have raped me tonight?”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t his answer that shot a violent tremor through her body. It was the way he delivered it—swift, cold, and with unwavering conviction.
“Shh. I know you’re scared.” He tucked her hands against her chest and massaged the blood back into her fingers.
“Because you’re a raping, slave-trading monster.”
“Yes, but once you fall in love with a monster, you no longer fear them.”
SUNLIGHT WARMED CAMILA’S LEGS through the bedsheets. She lifted her gaze toward the glass wall and squinted at the brilliant blue backdrop. Maybe Tate or one of the others was looking up at that very moment, beneath the very same sky, thinking of ways to find her. The likelihood that she’d never see them again made her heart sink, but determination charged through it, energizing her blood.
Except she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe in the solid arms that restrained her more effectively than chain or rope.
“When are we leaving this bed?” She pushed against Matias’ shoulder, fingers grazing the tattooed branches.
“Someday, never,” he said in a sleepy voice, pulling her impossibly closer, chest to chest.
He’d woken earlier and fucked her in the spooning position. She hadn’t told him no, hadn’t said a word when he’d roused her from sleep, rocked slowly into her from behind, and refused to come until she did. And she did come, with the same snarl of emotions as the first time.
But that was a couple of hours ago. Now he seemed content to do nothing but hold her. It felt almost…safe. Almost.
The dull pain pulsing deep beneath the welts on her thighs and butt helped her remember what he was capable of.
“Don’t you have henchmen to recruit and women to sell?” She lifted her gaze to his.
“You’re supposed to be a slave, not a slave driver.” His voice was stern, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his amusement.
She guessed her own expression wobbled somewhere between go to hell and oh well. Truth was, she preferred this…this mellow, amicable Matias. He reminded her of the boy she used to laze around and laugh with. If she kept him in a jovial mood, maybe he’d open up enough to talk to her. Civil conversation would be major progress after yesterday.
As her bladder twitched with pressure, an odd thought struck. “I haven’t seen you use the bathroom since I’ve been here.”
“I went while you were sleeping. Even brushed my teeth.” He touched his lips to her forehead. “Are you concerned about my bathroom habits?”
“No, it’s just…” With her arm resting along his ribs, she traced a finger across the bottom edge of his pectoral, which felt a whole lot like steel. “I guess…I don’t know. It’d be nice to see you do something human.”
“Look closer then.” He lifted her chin with a knuckle and gave her a good look at the hazel swirls of life in his eyes. “I feel pain and hope and fear, just like you.” He moved his hand from her face to hold up his wrist with the pockmarked scar. “To this day, I’m afraid of big black dogs. I take melatonin because I have trouble sleeping. I get indigestion when I eat too many empanadas.”
Her heart thudded and twisted.
“And I dreamt about this, Camila.” He touched her cheek oh-so delicately with the pads of his fingers. “I dreamt about waking up with you for as long as I can remember.”
That was… Wow. He was sharing, and she liked it. Liked it so much it made her uneasy and fluttery, her lips teetering on the verge of a weird smile.
With a ragged inhale, she lowered her gaze to the dense stubble on his jaw. “Remember when we sneaked into the faculty room at school and photocopied our faces?”
“That’s not the only thing we photocopied.”
“That was all you.” She jabbed a finger at his chest, fighting a grin. “You yanked your pants down and sat your butt cheeks on the glass top. My poor innocent eyes.”
“You looked?” He leaned back, eyebrows arched.
“Well, um…yeah.” It’d been her sixth grade year, so they’d been twelve and fourteen. She’d seen him nude as a child, but that day had been the first time she’d ogled him in all his postpubescent glory. “I don’t really remember.”
“You’re lying.” He bit her neck playfully. “You definitely remember.”
A full-blown smile stretched her cheeks as she recalled her shock. He’d looked like a man to her then. All that pubic hair—black like the hair on his head. And balls that hung low beneath a cock she’d fantasized about every night for the next three years. To think, he’d waited until she was fifteen before he let her touch him beneath his boxers.
She shrugged. “Too bad we didn’t save the evidence. When the Xerox machine spit out that grainy picture of your ass…Oh God, do you remember? I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”
“Yeah, you peed your pants.” His shoulders shook with laughter.
“Down my legs and all over my flip-flops. I had to wear your gym shorts home.” She groaned. “I was so embarrassed you saw that.”
>
“Why?” His brow furrowed. “Did I say something—?”
“No, you were cool about it. You were always…” So tender and protective and perfect in every way. “You had my back.”
She sighed, holding on to the memory and her smile.
“This is what I missed more than anything else.” He trailed a finger across the curve of her lips. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Camila, but when you smile, you light up the whole fucking world.”
Her lips fell beneath his finger, her chest tightening with the weight of the huge, indescribable thing between them. She couldn’t pretend this bond didn’t exist. It’d been there her entire life. Even through twelve years of separation, she never stopped sensing it, thinking about it, and now, it sang with his words and vibrated with his touch.