“Yes, yes, please, Victor,” she calls out, as I slam back in one last time and empty myself deep inside her. It’s the first time in my life I’ve fucked someone without protection. If it were any other woman, I would be racing to buy the morning after pill. But with Sofía, I don’t want to.
She lies on the bed, ruffled within the sheets, looking innocent. But that’s because she is. I took the one thing she’s held onto all this time, with my fingers, then with my cock. I’ve claimed her, and I don’t feel an ounce of guilt. I’m an asshole, and I want her to only want me.
The room is thick with tension when she scoots up, her body covered. I wish I could rip the sheets away from her and stare at her all night. To take in every inch of her caramel skin, to lick and taste her, but I merely stand at the foot of her bed, staring at her wide eyes.
There are so many things I want to do to her right now—bind her to my bed, explore her curves, suck on her nipples, make them hard as I graze my teeth along the buds, and taste her sweet cunt once more.
“I want you,” I tell her with raw honesty. It flays me open, baring my very heart and soul to her, both are black as night, filled with demons from my past.
“What happened between us was a mistake,” she tells me. “I can’t… I mean, that can’t happen again.” The conviction in her tone makes me chuckle. It’s as if she thinks she has a choice. She doesn’t.
“Listen to me, juguete,” I utter. “You belong to me. And if you think for one moment, after I’ve tasted your sweet virtue, that I’m letting you go,” I pause, tipping my head to the side as I regard her. “Then you’re sorely mistaken.”
Spinning on my heel, I head out the door, shutting it behind me, I lock it and make my way down to the office. She bangs on the bedroom door, calling my name, but I ignore her. With every step I take, the sound gets fainter, and soon, I can’t hear her any more.
I need a smoke. Time to think about what I’m going to do with my little Sofía.
“Victor,” Javi utters, when I stalk into my office. He’s sitting on the sofa, his cigar filling the room with the scent of cherries. I don’t know why he smokes when all he enjoys are those fucking flavored sorry excuses for cigars.
“What are you doing here?”
“We have a job to go to,” he informs me.
Glancing at the clock, I note the time. “It’s midnight, Javi,” I tell him, flopping into my chair, pinning him with glare.
“Is that code for you want to stay home and fuck your princepessa?” he chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves, not because it’s him, but because of what he just said. There’s another reason that’s turning me into a raging asshole right now and it all has to do with the woman I just fucked and owned. The fact that she thinks I’m about to let her walk out of here, that I’m not already enamored, and stupidly so.
I want her.
“You were right,” I tell Javier, “she’s under my skin, she’s so deeply rooted, I’m not sure I can get her out. Not anymore.” My words still him, and I know I should’ve kept it to myself until I figured out what the fuck I’m doing, but Javi is my sanity.
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling something for somebody, Boss,” he tells me, forcing me to turn to him and regard his honesty like it’s a beacon in the night. As much as I want to admit that he’s right, something niggles at me. I’m not sure what it is.
This emotion is foreign to me.
I feel as if I’m back in high school, ruling over the cafeteria, and a new girl walks in, trying to steal the limelight, and I gladly allow her to have it. But this time, I don’t want her to leave, I want her to stay by my side.
“Please tell me you have someone I can kill,” I plead with my best friend. If there’s one thing I know that can save me even for a short while, it’s taking the life of an asshole who deserves it.
“New dealer in town, attempted an attack on one of our guys,” Javi tells me.
Smiling at the thought, I tell him, “I think it’s time we made a spectacle of the asshole. I need the violence to distract me from the feelings that are coursing through me right now.”
He’s right, we need to make sure others don’t attempt the same thing. Our streets are just that—ours. “Sounds like a plan. Give me ten minutes, I’ll meet you at the garage.” He nods and leaves. I consider going to Sofía, telling her I’m leaving, but instead, I call on Valentina and ask her to take some tea and coffee to my girl with a note.