Cartel (17 page)

He was going to pay for this.

But it would be worth it.

He had told me to go to bed, and instead, I had crossed the void that existed between us, a symbolic space he’d constructed when he took two steps back and leaned on the opposite wall. He had said he would let me choose, and I was choosing him. Not because I loved him — Jesus, I wasn’t sure I even
liked
him — but because I saw my out, and I grabbed that out with two hands as I dragged his lips to mine. It didn’t have to be about love. It could just be sex, and he could rid me of this problem. This loneliness, this aching void inside me. He could get rid of that for me.

And maybe, just maybe, I could make him feel something for me in the process. Yes. Get him wrapped around my finger so tight, he’d do anything for me. I wasn’t stupid — I knew I was a pretty girl, and the tension that sizzled between us was larger than either of us.

I’d felt the switch inside him flip, in the way he grabbed my arms and squeezed them almost to the point of pain. His mouth on mine tasted too good for me to believe he was my enemy, but therein lay part of the thrill, I suppose. Beating him at his own game. Owning him so he didn’t just own me.

He’d picked me up with two impossibly strong arms, carrying me into the master bedroom as we continued to kiss each other with a fire that threatened to destroy us both. He was already naked from the waist up, and I wanted to join him sooner rather than later. I dragged my tank top over my head and let it fall to the floor.

When he leaned me against the bed and unbuttoned the top of my denim shorts, I wasn’t prepared. Before I could catch up, he snaked his hand down the front of my pants and thrust two fingers inside my wet heat.

I moaned. It was loud, desperate.

His eyes flew open and he dropped me like I was on fire. I landed on my back on a soft bed, with Dornan above me, my legs trapped in the space between his thighs as he stood over me.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I said breathlessly, inexplicably embarrassed.

He leaned back slightly. ‘You sure you wanna do this?’

I swallowed. He looked affronted.

‘Get dressed,’ he said, picking my tank top up and throwing it at me.

I caught the top and threw it back at him, just as hard.

‘Scared?’ It was a challenge.

‘Of hurting you? Yeah,’ he said darkly.

I moved forward so I was kneeling on the edge of the bed.

‘I’m sure,’ I said.

Before he could move away, I kissed him again. If I could just make him feel something for me, maybe he’d protect me. Este was dead. And I was dying inside, a ghost girl trapped alone in a world Dornan had created for me.

He held the cure to my suffering.

I pulled him down again, kissing him with more urgency this time.

‘Fuckin’ Christ, woman,’ he said in between hard, furious kisses that scratched my delicate skin with stubble and made me wet with excitement.

He broke the kiss and pushed me forcefully away. I landed on my elbows and ass, thankful that I had a mattress to break my fall. For a moment, I figured that he would leave me again, unsatisfied and scared, alone in the dark with my nightmares.

But then he grabbed my ankles and pulled me down the bed towards him, and in that moment I
knew
.

I had him. I had him in the palm of my hand.

‘Get your fucking panties off before I rip them off,’ he growled, and I quickly obliged, hiking them down my thighs and kicking them off my feet onto the floor.

I took in a terrified, excited breath as he grabbed my ankles again and ripped them apart, forcing my legs as wide as they would go.

‘You better scream real fuckin’ loud if you want me to stop,’ he breathed, lowering his mouth to my leg and kissing a trail up the inside of my thigh. ‘Because unless you scream, I
ain’t
gonna stop.’

I gasped, rocking my hips involuntarily as his tongue brushed ever so lightly across my sensitive bundle of nerves. I jerked as he gently pushed one finger inside me and moaned against my pussy. ‘Fuck, you are so wet,’ he groaned, as he fucked me with his finger and his tongue. It felt so damn good, it was worth the blood rising to my cheeks at his mention of how wet I was. I shouldn’t have been so turned on in that moment, and yet,
I was.

Somehow, I knew he was going to make me scream, but I wasn’t going to let him stop until he was well and truly done with me. I writhed beneath him as he used his tongue to drive me to the brink of insanity, bringing me close to the edge.

My boyfriend was dead. I was a slave. And the man whose head was between my legs was, by association, responsible for my boyfriend getting shot.

All of these thoughts coursed through my mind as my knees began to tremble violently and I crested towards the precipice, gripping the sheets below me as if I were about to fall. Inside, I knew that once we did this, the last remnants of who I used to be would be washed away with blood and tears.

I snapped back to the present moment as Dornan added a second finger, moving quickly but gently. I ran a hand through his silky hair, pulling him closer to me as I cried out.

Just as I was getting close, as that white-hot pleasure threatened to blanket me and steal my breath, he stopped. Stone cold fucking
stopped
. Withdrew his fingers, took his mouth away from the spot he’d been sucking on so perfectly, and stood up.

I made a small sound of annoyance at the back of my throat, hoisting myself to my elbows and opening my eyes to get a better idea of what was going on. I heard a zip being opened and the rustle of clothing, and as my eyes were still adjusting to the dark, his figure loomed over me. I still couldn’t see him properly, could only make out his outline, and my brain struggled to catch up.

Before I knew what he was doing, before I had the chance to brace myself, I felt him position himself at my entrance. I sucked in a breath as he slammed himself inside me, the feeling something I cannot fully describe. Fireworks and fury. The violent end to a violent beginning.

He groaned.

I screamed.

He stopped where he was, still full and almost uncomfortable inside me, as I struggled to catch my breath.

My whole body continued to tremble, with grief and pleasure and the overwhelming finality of it all.

I had just invited the enemy inside my body, into my
soul
. In that moment, I wanted to die. I was so ashamed.

Because, even through the haze of sorrow,
I liked it.

My eyes adjusted to the dark, finally, and all I could see were two dark brown eyes, so dark I could barely distinguish the pupils from the irises. Black eyes, like the devil. I had just given my soul to the devil.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, and I heard genuine concern in his voice. Odd. He was my enemy and yet he touched me like he was my lover. I couldn’t reconcile the two.

Tears formed in my eyes and I struggled to find my voice.

‘Yes.’

‘You screamed.’

‘I know.’

‘Do you want me to stop?’

Did I want him to stop?

It terrified me that I didn’t want him to.

I’d been alone for so long. Mourning Este, mourning our son. Mourning
myself
. Everything was stark and cold in this harsh new world, and I needed someone to be with me the way Dornan was with me.

I already knew he wasn’t a good man. I’d suspected that from the first moment I saw him. They say you can tell by a man’s eyes if he’s killed a person, and Dornan’s eyes held the souls of many. I saw them sometimes, dancing around the murky black as he contemplated his next victim.

I made no excuses for him. I didn’t love him.

But I needed him.

I didn’t want to be raped by strange bikers, one after another. I didn’t want them to hold me down while they filled me with themselves. I wanted to be safe.

I wanted to be with Dornan.

He had saved me
.

I wrapped my ankles around him and locked them behind his back.

‘No,’ I said finally. ‘Don’t stop.’

He grinned, started to move again, and the pleasure intensified. I gulped at the air, fisting my hands into the sheets beneath me, as a fire began in my womb.

Every stroke was
excruciating
. Excruciating because it was so fucking good. We fit together like we were the last two pieces of a forgotten puzzle.

Physically, we were made for each other.

But as my nerves began to sizzle and fray, the friction almost unbearable, Dornan reached between us and pressed his thumb to my sensitive bundle of nerves, and I flew over the side of that precipice I’d been coasting, into the dark night.

My orgasm ripped through me, and it was as painful as it was sweet. I felt myself squeeze around his cock as he continued to pound into me, almost hurting me, over and over, until I stopped shaking and let go of the sheets, panting to catch my breath.

I whimpered as he pulled out of me, the sudden emptiness more painful than the fullness of having him there. I throbbed and ached. It was the best kind of ache, an ache that said we were something other than strangers in the dark now.

Dornan stood beside the bed, still fully erect in front of me.

‘Get up,’ he said. I didn’t hesitate. I knew what he wanted, because I wanted it, too. I rolled over to my front and raised myself on hands and knees, crawling towards him.

He held the base of his cock in one hand, and fisted my hair roughly with the other.

My family might have been shocked by my behaviour, but in that moment, I was somebody else.

Somebody who did whatever it took to ensure she survived.

I like your blood.

I opened my mouth and darted my tongue out, licking the very tip of his cock. I tasted myself and his salty arousal as I swirled my tongue around and took the tip into my mouth.

I like it very much.

Blood and violence and fucking and pain. This was what my life was reduced to. This was the person I had to be if I had any chance at surviving this hell.

I clamped down my gag reflex as I took him deeper into my throat, as deep as I could. He sighed in appreciation, a deep rumble that seemed to come directly from his chest and wrap around me like vine tendrils. He’d already been close, I could tell when I put my lips on him and he pulsed between them.

A couple more strokes, and he went rock hard, pinching my shoulder as hard as he could. The universal sign for
I’m about to blow my load in your mouth
. Last chance to turn back.

I didn’t. I relaxed my tongue and waited to feel the first pulse jet against the back of my throat, and it didn’t take long. I waited until he was done, and swallowed it all down. I wasn’t about to spit and disappoint him. I was committed to the final, warm spurt as it slid down my throat.

He pulled himself from my mouth and I took the opportunity to massage my aching jaw. My small mouth and his impressive appendage didn’t really match, but, in a disturbing way, I was insanely proud of myself for what I’d just done.

Almost as if it had been a test, and I had passed.

‘Did it hurt?’ he asked me, in the stillness that came after.

‘No,’ I replied.

He paused for a beat.

‘Did you like it?’

I felt my cheeks pool with blood as I nodded in the dark.

When she came, he’d almost exploded. He couldn’t believe it. He’d stopped himself once he had his fingers inside her, snapped to his senses by the sound that had come from her mouth.

She was sad. He saw it in the hollow of her cheeks; he heard it in the guttural wail she had let out when he touched her. He had stopped, fully prepared to leave, even if the blue balls might kill him. He refused to make her sadder.

But she hadn’t wanted to be alone.

She had wanted to be with him. Wanted to be beneath him. Wanted to be
around
him.

He’d barely been able to hold back, but he was damn glad that he had. Because the way she finished him, took it all and swallowed and looked at him for approval afterwards — it made him feel like the motherfucking king.

Rationally, he knew that she was fucking him because it was in her best interests. It was about survival.

But she had
liked
it. He knew it even before she’d said it. He felt it in the way she locked her ankles around him and pulled him deep inside her. In the way her lips sought out his; in the tight little sobs that escaped her mouth as he fucked her into oblivion. Yeah, she was definitely using him, but at least she seemed to get off on it almost as much as he did.

It made him uneasy about what he was going to do next. The drive. The devastation that would ensue. But he reminded himself that it was necessary. One of his men, Jimmy, was already in place. He had another one, Viper, trailing Mariana’s father and brother.

He knew exactly where they were going. After all, he’d told them where she was.

He watched the steady rise and fall of Ana’s chest as she lay sleeping in his bed. He had had the sense to cuff her wrists to the headboard before he’d drifted off to sleep, so there was no chance of her spoiling his plans. He didn’t think she would, especially after the way she’d responded to him, surrendered to him, but he could never be too sure. He never trusted women. They always ended up letting you down in the end.

She stretched in bed lazily, and as she did, the cuffs around her wrists clinked against the bed head.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped, realising she was chained up. Dornan leaned against the bedroom’s door frame, sipping coffee, black and strong. He felt himself grow hard again just at the sight of her, spread out deliciously in front of him like a goddamn buffet, but he wouldn’t try to fuck her again this morning. As much as his dick was trying to protest, the girl had to be sore after last night’s marathon.

She looked from the cuffs above her head, down to her naked form, and finally to him.

‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘You hungry?’

She nodded. He set the coffee down and undid her cuffs, one by one, probably letting his hands linger a little too long on her delicate wrists as he did so.

Breakfast was bacon and scrambled eggs with chilli sauce, and a side of strong coffee. She wrinkled her nose up in distaste, reaching across and sliding her coffee cup closer. He’d contemplated making her eat breakfast naked, but at the last moment let her have one of those hotel dressing gowns he’d somehow ended up with. It was white and fluffy, with little flowers sewn into the hem. Against Ana’s creamy caramel skin it looked positively divine. It covered her breasts but showed the definition of her nipples.

‘What is that?’ she asked, holding her coffee to her chest as she surveyed his sauce-slathered eggs dubiously.

He laughed. ‘Mongrel’s breakfast.’

‘Which is?’

He chewed his eggs and swallowed. ‘A little
huevos rancheros
, some Italian coffee, and good ol’ American bacon.’

She studied him as he continued to devour his food.

‘You’re kind of a mongrel, aren’t you?’ she asked.

He grinned. ‘Am I?’

‘I mean, your family is Italian, you’re American, and you like to hang out with a lot of Colombians.’

‘And I grew up on the border of Mexico,’ he added, shovelling the last piece of bacon into his mouth. ‘In the house where you were being kept.’

Her face paled three shades lighter right in front of him. ‘You grew up in that place?’

He swallowed and pushed his plate away. ‘Yeah. I fuckin’ hated it. Still do.’

Neither of them spoke for a while.

‘Who lives here?’ she asked finally.

‘Sometimes me, sometimes nobody,’ he said. Despite what was about to happen, he was feeling awfully chipper this morning. Probably because every time he looked at her lips, it reminded him of the night before.

She was very good at being bad. He appreciated a woman who was both resourceful and devious. Often they were one or the other, but to have both was simply delicious.

‘Where else do you live?’

He saw right through her feigned casual manner.

‘That’s for me to know,’ he snapped, standing abruptly and circling the counter, tossing his empty plate into the sink.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I just meant … will I stay here? Or will I go somewhere else?’

He softened slightly. ‘That depends.’

She cocked one eyebrow. ‘On whether I please you?’ Her words sounded submissive but there was a glint to her eye that turned him on.

‘It’s not hard to keep me happy,’ he said gruffly, trying to restrain his desire. ‘Just don’t try to escape. It’s that simple.’

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips.

‘Eat something,’ he ordered, pointing to the pantry. ‘If you don’t want my breakfast, get some goddamn cereal or something. I don’t want you starving yourself.’

He smiled as she stared at her coffee. ‘What are you thinking?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m thinking of ways to ask you questions that won’t piss you off.’

He laughed.

‘I just screwed your brains halfway back to Colombia last night. I think we’re past being polite.’

She blushed.

‘Just ask me what you’re gonna ask me. If I don’t want to tell you, I won’t.’

She nodded slowly, and he could practically see the cogs turning over in her mind.

She finally cleared her throat. ‘Am I safe here?’ she asked. ‘I mean, will anyone else ever —’ She tilted her head towards the bedroom.

‘No,’ he said abruptly, cutting her off. ‘The only person who gets to touch you is
me
.’

‘Your father would disagree,’ she said quietly.

He slammed his fist on the counter. ‘He’s not fuckin’ here, is he? I brought you here to keep you from him. Besides,’ he struggled not to explode with anger in front of her, ‘he’s too busy with all the other girls.’

Her head snapped up. ‘The other girls?’

‘No more questions,’ he growled. ‘You need to get dressed. And eat something or I’ll make you eat me when I get back. And trust me, baby, you’re gonna need a full stomach for the drive we’re about to take.’

He slapped the pantry with one hand as he left the kitchen, walking down the hallway towards the front door.

‘Wait!’ she pleaded. ‘What if there’s a fire? How will I get out?’

He turned slowly, swivelling on his heels. ‘
If
there’s a fire, in the forty minutes I’ll be gone, then it was really fuckin’ nice knowing you.’

He slammed the door behind him and shook his head in amazement.

Little bitch was almost too smart. She might have given him her body last night, but he saw the fear in her eyes, the hate. She would be dangerous for a long time to come.