The persistent throbbing in my sex becomes uncomfortably needy. I’m a victim to the thrill of a woman meeting a man, to an inflamed desire driving me wild, and seemingly affecting him, too.
Rising to tiptoes, I press my achy nipples into his solid chest and pause before him. He immediately dips his chin to align our lips, but holds firm, waiting for me to take the lead. And that's exactly what I do.
For the first time in my life, I make a move, lightly pressing my lips to his and skating my tongue along the underside of his top lip with a bold stroke. The silken landscape feels out of this world. His distinctive flavor is sweetened with alcohol, peppermint, and sin. It's a poison that would undoubtedly be the death of my virtue for ever more.
When the tips of our tongues collide, his guttural groan excites me more than any adrenaline rush I've ever known. Yet he still doesn't overpower me with authority or demands. Tomás allows my casual exploration to tease his abstention, permitting my tentative licks and roaming hands.
I’m tingling all over, deepening the kiss to hunt for more of a reaction from him, but something feels off. It’s unsettling how he’s portraying calmness rather than matching the hunger burning within me like an inferno. As much as I love this new sense of womanly power I’ve unleashed, it's not the same. My hands drop to his belt buckle and my heels sink to the paving and our hungry kiss abruptly ends.
“What sort of game is this?” As I subconsciously reach for my lip, he seizes my wrist like a viper strike.
“It’s not a game.” His grip tightens, becoming uncomfortable. I squirm in protest, not because I want him to let go. Instead, I’m afraid of the uncertain dynamics—that he’s not really attracted to me and this cruel situation is simply the show of a sovereign's boundless power.
“What do you want, Carina?” he grits out. His face dips into mine, casting his handsome features in shade, so he appears unholy. “Tell me.” The unusual hiss from the back of his throat makes me think it pains him that I’ve stopped clawing at his trousers.
“I want you... inside me,” I whisper before my nerves get the better of me. “I need you to fuck me like you do, Tomás.” The urgency to my voice shocks me more than the indecent request itself. I’m too eager for this man—for his cruelty.
His mouth brushes the curve of my jaw until it settles at my ear. “That’s all I needed to hear. As you wish.” His tone drops to a feral growl.
A large hand finds my chlorine water and essence drenched panties, cups me possessively, and then Tomás kisses me this time, on his terms, with a passion so intense I fear he’ll rip me apart with his teeth. He drags his mouth away, locking his serious eyes with my daze. “Now get on your knees.”
There’s no romantic gesture or assistance offered, only an expectation of obedience and watchful eyes. My heart slams, the rush of blood louder than the squawking birds in the trees and the sound of every quick breath I gulp. Lowering before him, I shake with anticipation, fully accepting my fate at this man's mercy.
Without any help, he kicks off his shoes, tugs off his belt, unzips his jeans, and drags them past his hips with his boxer briefs following. He leisurely steps out of the shackles around his ankles, painting a picture of complete stoicism. However, from down here, on my knees, I witness the vein pulsating in his throat and find an unmistakable pearl of pre-cum nestled on the satiny head of his angry looking dick.
“Pass up the tequila,” he orders, before swiping a palm down his face.
The small knife tucked against his leg catches my eye, but doesn’t set alarm bells off. Not as it should. I grab the bottle and raise it in tandem with my gaze. Outlined by lush vegetation and serene blue, he takes it from me with one hand while the other fists his rigid length. My pussy clenches, needy for fulfillment. It’s a wicked sensation to crave something with this much desire, even when I know it's not good for me and in the end it will be my ruin.
His stance widens. “Move closer,” he orders. “You like tequila?”
I shuffle closer so my knees rest in the space between his ankles, my hair swings to the base of my spine. “It’s the first time I’ve tried it,” I admit.
“Another first.” He chuckles darkly. “Well, here’s a little secret for you,” his turbulent gaze swallows me whole. “What I’m about to do next is a first for me too.”
17
TOMÁS
“You’re such a beautiful little thing, aren’t you,” I praise, admiring the dusting of freckles kissing her high cheekbones.
The way I’m feeling right now, so horny and hungry for her, I could blow my load all over her face. That wouldn’t be enough of a release and I fucking know it.
Dainty fingertips skim my inner thighs. I can’t help the low grunt my throat makes. The hedonistic touch catapults trillions of chills all over me. Every shiver is magnified by the vision of this stunning girl, practically begging me to destroy her.
It's not like I haven't had obedient women before. I have, many times. But this insatiable obsession I’m fighting is like fine grains of gold dust dredged from a stormy ocean—a valuable, rare reward after a dangerous mission.
“Wanna have fun destroying all your firsts?” I smirk, trying to conceal the man she’ll never meet. The reckless side of me helplessly disintegrating behind the mask I wear.
Her eyes sparkle up at me, more desirable than gold bullion.
“And do I get to destroy any of yours in return,” she baits, her soft feminine voice a breeze of seduction.
Adrenaline pumps into every organ until I’m over energized with the stamina of a lion. “Having you in my home is a first.” I drag my thumb over her plush bottom lip and watch it plop back into place. “Not killing you when my father ordered it, that was a first. And fucking a gorgeous teenage virgin in my shower was also a first.” A shudder rattles my bones, alerting her to my feverish arousal. “So I think we’re even.”
I scoff inwardly at my foolishness. Angelo would beat this distraction out of my skull and order me to send her away until I’d found my father’s killers. However, the vice-like grip she has on my needs equals that of unruly street gangs hooked on cocaine.
The whole time Shane and I interrogated our enemies, I tried to forget the taste of her salty skin and to ignore the crackle of chemistry bonding Carina to me in unnatural ways. When traitorous blood spilled, my veins scorched. Not for the thirst of death—for the erotic memory of her falling apart on my dick withmyblood tarnishing her hands.