Once he's inside her again, he arches over her spine, sinks his ringed fingers into her platinum hair and yanks her into his taut chest. I hear her quick intake of air at the same time as Tomás' lips graze the shell of my ear. I almost convulse at the sensation of his hot breath.
"Watch them,little liar. Watch my brother fuck her while I touch you."
My core clenches and each limb liquifies. I crave this man’s rough touch, that masterful authority he’s shown me multiple times. The hand on my belly glides to the hem of my dress. With the back of my head firm against his shoulder, I've nowhere to look other than at his roguish brother. Controlling fingers slip beneath the black fabric, quickly finding me wet. Teeth nip my earlobe and I tremble.
My pulse jumps so violently that my vision blurs temporarily. With his fingers discreetly hidden under the dress he bought me, Tomás rubs my sensitive nub of nerves. I stifle a whimper by drawing my lips in. But when he dips a finger inside of me, I maneuver my pelvis to deepen the delicious plunder.
This scenario shouldn’t turn me on so much, but it does. I'm riddled with hazardous goosebumps, aching to roll into him and hunt his mouth with mine. I could stay with him from dusk to dawn, days to weeks, and still I’d crave his touch. That’s how desperately I’ve toppled off course.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls.
André glances over at us, his rebellious smile so seductive, so raw—so deadly. In that second, my insides prepare to convulse. Just as I rise, the wicked pressure coaxing me to the fiery pit of Hell abruptly leaves. Tomás turns me into him, our chests colliding.
“Your orgasms are mine. Every single one of them. When you fall apart, it will be my face you see. Only mine. Understand?”
I nod. The gravity of this entanglement suddenly hits me. Since I was a young girl hiding in my bedroom and suffocating in the safety of isolation, I wished for a different life. For adventure. For acceptance.
What I didn’t realize was how I’d find it in darkness, danger, and lustful thrills—inhim. That tortured little girl never expected a ruthless cartel king could stitch her broken soul together, piece by piece, or that he’d activate a sexual woman with untamed urges.
But this isn’t real. It’s only a temporary arrangement void of forever. For the next couple of days, I belong to him and then he’ll cast me adrift in a world that’s shown me no kindness.
I stare up at him, my cheeks ablaze and a fast pulse thrumming in my neck. There’s only one way this would go tonight. Pleasure threaded with pain.
Midnight colored pupils flare as his hand swathes my throat to angle my mouth higher.
“It’s time to go," he commands, low and sexy. "I'll give you exactly what you need in private."
My stomach roils with anticipation when he roughly cuffs my wrist and trails me behind him as we exit the room.
Neither of us speaks. Adrenaline courses through me, matching him step for step. His serious expression meets mine when he glances over his shoulder at the top of the staircase. The right corner of his mouth hitches ever so slightly, just enough to dent his cheek. There's something in that one look he offers that holds so many secrets. His determined, confident strides give me chills.
Tomás hurries me into his suite and slams the door shut. A swirl of flutters crash against my ribs when he rakes his fingers through the hair on top of his head and licks his lips. This man’s looks are lethal.
"You can watch my brothers fuck all the women in Colombia if that gets you off, but when you orgasm, it’s my eyes you’ll look into and my dick…" He seizes my hands, forcing them to the zipper of his expensive slacks and bites his bottom lip.
Beneath the funeral attire, he's rock hard. Tomás Souza’s physique is equally as intimidating as his persona. "This is the only dick that will own your senses while we're together."
"Tomás…" I say his name on a telltale whisper, my mind flitting with thoughts of survival and sexual corruption.
His face is impassive when he pushes me past the bed toward the walk-in closet. He lets go of me, draws open the double doors and storms aside.
“In.” The order snaps out like the crack of a whip. “No one will hear you scream in here.” There’s an edge to his tone that makes me obey. A sweet vibration of lust and supremacy.
When we’re both inside the long room flanked with meticulously hung clothes and mirrors, he shuts the doors and turns into me.
Slowly, purposefully, he shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over a pintuck footstool the size of a single bed. Those dark eyes of his arrest me as he unfastens his diamond cufflinks and removes his shirt. I watch him undress, aware of how his naked torso makes my breathing irregular.
Silky smooth skin is carved into firm muscles earned from strict self-discipline. Impossibly glorious and god-like. I’ve seen it before, but not like this, not knowing I belong to him. That my sole purpose for the next number of hours is to satisfy whatever sordid demands he asks of me.
A shiver runs through me, fierce and terrifying. I’ve always been fucked up, but surrendering to this hysteria reveals how far I’m willing to drop into the lion’s den.
He stands before me, lit only by the glow of strip lighting beneath the cabinets. Shadows dance over his face when he moves, eating up the space between us as I quickly back away. “There’s nowhere to run to,little liar.”
My ass hits the surface of a floor to ceiling mirror spanning a quarter of the wall. I’ve nowhere to go, other than a parallel world where our reflections exist beyond this room. A world where he doesn't see me as dispensable.
“Turn around.”
Flutters rampage in my chest as I do a one-eighty and face myself. Neatly tamed locks pour over my shoulders, framing the face of an innocent young woman who’s landed in the underworld with a demon.