DIABLO INSIDE

by Amarie Avant

  “Hello?” His sexy Cuban voice causes my eyelids to kiss tightly.

  Inhaling, I fantasize about him screwing me the very first time. “It’s Aria. We need to talk.”

  The gate opens seconds later. Alright, Aria, you heard the sound of his voice. You survived. You can stare at him without melting!

  I navigate the windy passageway and park next to his Mercedes. Tonight, I dolled up somewhat for our virtual party in my cute cotton pajamas. I touch the top of my head and shriek. At the same time, there’s a knock on my window.

  “Sorry.” Dominic’s voice is muffled, eyes warm with sincerity as if his presence scared me.

  I grip the scarf, my hair falling out of a perfect wrap. I call that a small blessing while climbing out of my car. “How dare you not respond to me!”

  Dominic eyes me like I’ve grown a third tit. “You started this mess.”

  “Are you a kid?”

  He pins me beneath his gaze. “Don’t ever call me a kid.”

  Damn. The sweet nurturing Dom from my house has been replaced by the eviler one who screwed my brain loose. He clasps the hair at the nape of my neck, bringing my lips up. The beast is a fraction away from devouring my mouth. The fighting and bickering we devolved into comes apart at the seams. I stare intently at him. We should take a break from arguing and kiss.

  But Dominic’s not on the same page. His grip tightens around my hair, colossal chest crushing against my breasts. A flicker of fear threads into the undeniable hunger in my soul. My chin lifts slightly, a reserved offering of my plush lips. Dominic abstains from tasting my mouth. Instead, he has authority of every inch of my frame and attention.

  “You’re bad for me, mami. You make me think you’re innocent. Then you push me away. Treat me worse than any woman I’ve ever touched.”

  My lips fly before I can process the venom of my jealous retort. “Don’t tell me about another woman while I’m standing here, Dominic.”

  “You gave me a dose of my own medicine.” His mouth dusts across the tender pulse at my neck, teeth sinking in, kissing, inflicting pain, then washing the agony with his lips again. He mentions smoking a cigarette, and how it’s all my fault.

  I press the apex of me against him. A dozen tiny motes of pleasure ease the pressure caused by his harsh kisses. But unlike the Dominic who spent a blissful weekend holding me tight in his arms, he doesn’t soften. Not like he did after plowing straight into me per my request. He’d started off driving into the depth of me, hollowing my pussy. Then his cock, his touch, and his kisses made my heart stutter.

  In a low growl, his teeth dig into my flesh again, leaving only affliction this time. “All your antics, it makes me want to tear you apart, LeAnna.”

  He cocks a brow, taunting me, anticipating the postal women only he can rev up in me. Fucking devil. Fully aware of who I am, he grins. Tear you apart. The bastard said the very same words to the Latina he’d screwed at the cigar lounge on the night of Roslyn’s cousin’s wedding.

  A knowing gleam flashes on his pompous face. I push at him. His arms wrap around me, biceps thicker than an anaconda as he squeezes. “You followed me around like a crazed woman. What? Was I some kind of mark for you? Watch me fuck a woman? Call me crazy too, but I don’t believe you honestly thought I was El Santo when I said that to the Latina.”

  Now, he’s aware of exactly how long I’ve stalked him. My hands ball into fists; my efforts futile in his malicious embrace.

  “My little stalker, you sat, and you listened to me fuck another woman.” Callused palms immobilize my cheeks. “Is that all you wanted this entire time? For me to fuck you until you needed crutches? I can split your pussy wide with my dick, tear you apart, LeAnna. Mírame, chula. I can fuck you till you pass out, have you crawling back, wanting more. Don’t fear me. Lemme do that for you.”

  “Fuck you, Dominic.”

  “So, you followed me. Or did you notice me before that? Was this aura of terror to make me want to protect and give a fuck about you all a ruse?”

  The embers in his jade orbs are an inferno, searing into the gravity of my soul. I wriggle in an attempt to be free of his taunting.

  “So, I have to be crazy, Dom? Either I thought you were a serial killer, or I’m equally psychotic and pursued you for some community dick! Goodbye, Dominic.”

  “No ‘goodbye’ from you!” His clutch at my face hardens, and he plucks a kiss from my fish-like lips. “I tell you goodbye, chula!”

  “What happened to your mami saying no good—”

  “I’ll tell you goodbye, LeAnna, when I’m ready. You don’t get to say it—ever. But the thing is, I will never be prepared to.”

  We stare at each other in shock. Dominic’s hands drop from my face. His expansive torso lifts and expands in hostility. His declaration is charged electricity, binding us, though we aren’t touching.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dominic

  Crushing her wasn’t the extent to what I wanted to do to Aria Jones. I’d imagined inflicting pain, delegating the type of hurt I felt all these days she avoided me. We’re dysfunctional around each other. She says crazy shit. I sling it right back. Perhaps my declaration is all truth and no chaser. I loosen the death grip on Aria. The insanity of her soft body pulsing beneath my fingertips compels me to touch her again. My fingers grasp her jaw, bringing her to her tippy toes. My mouth crashes onto hers, tongue down her throat. Aria’s legs zip around my waist where they are meant to be as I carry her into my house.

  “When I’m done fucking you,” I threaten between assaulting her mouth with kisses, “we will have a long talk. A very long talk about expectations.”

  Aria takes a rule straight out of my playbook, biting down on my lip. “Yes, a very long—”

  She gasps. I bring her hips down, pressing her into my excruciatingly hard erection. With each step up the stairs, the heat of us intensifies. She’s so far into my head. I start to turn left toward my side of the house.

  “Fuck me, mami,” I growl against Aria’s skin at the thought of any man being near my woman. “I’m about to fuck the bad out of you.”

  I smile at her enthusiasm, kicking the double doors closed behind me. I start toward the foot of the bed. My mouth is glued to hers, and I slam her onto the dresser. Disconnecting our lips, Aria hooks her arms back around my neck.

  “Dom,” she grits. “You stop kissing me. You’ll know crazy!”

  “Condom,” I snap, reverting to one-word responses.

  “You didn’t . . .” Her voice trails off in a tortured growl.

  Fuck it, no condom. I swipe her off the table and onto the edge of the bed, come to my knees. In the back of my mind, this registers as madness that I let Aria Jones get the best of me—instead of me breaking her.

  I’ll blow her mind the only way I know how. Snatching her cotton pants, I rip them down the thick flesh of her hips. My mouth darts to her sex, wetting her up for me. Her pussy lips quiver against my mouth. I kiss her, my long tongue darting deep.

  She collapses on her back, groaning. “Fuck me, hard, Dom. Fuck me.”

  I come back up, hands framing her body, so malleable between my fingers. My chest crushes down on her breast as I kiss her mouth the same way my tongue fucked her pussy.

  “You taste so good.” I groan, running my cock along her slit. “You love the way you taste, Aria. Sí, mami?”

  “Oh, yes!” Aria’s fingers dig into the bed, pushing her hips upward, prepared for my thrust.

  “I’m addicted to the taste of this pussy, Aria. Feels like velvet, mami,” I taunt, my dick ready to cum at the stroke of the wetness along her folds.

  “Yes, yes, Dom.”

  She climbs downward, obsessed by the thought of being penetrated. I laugh. “You denied me for a long time, chula. You thought it was cute, denying me. Now, I can see it in your eyes. You fucking ache for me.”

  My hardness slides around Aria’s clit, and she tenses. The surface of her skin screams as she grabs a pillow to bite d
own on.

  “No, chula, I have to see that gorgeous face of yours. So that you know that I know the next time you deny me, this right here.” My timber lowers in a fury. “Will be the least of your worries.”

  My cock breaks through her resistance. Her walls contract before half of me has penetrated her depth. I thrust to the hilt, pressing her legs up to the side, and her feet against my chest.

  Voice choked in her throat, Aria gasps. “Fuck, deep, Dominic, that’s deep.”

  Aria bites down at the junction of my shoulder muscles. Her cunt strangles furiously at my cock, legs wobbling. Extracting her teeth, her shout, ripe with excitement, shatters my eardrums. I batter her G-spot relentlessly. Gripping her hips, I force her to take my cock deeper, stretching her.

  “I want to feel your pussy cum all over my dick,” I order, voice a lower rumble in her ears.

  “So deep.” Tilting her head back, she groans in her throat.

  With a hand on her hip, each plow is succeeded by Aria’s scream. I stroke her lovely throat, visualizing her swallowing me down while I claim her next release. Our flesh pounds. Her pussy explodes, making gooey noises that bring the animal out of me. I slide out of her slopping wet cunt and climb back down for another intoxicating taste. Hands claiming her inner thigh, I spread her into a V while lapping up the drink she’s made for me.

  “Damn, damn, Dominic! I can’t breathe!” She drowns in erotic torture. “I’m dying. You’re killing me, oh!”

  Mouth and jaw wet, I dominate her body. Her ass belongs to me. Her body, her surrender, all mine to control. Gripping her thighs, bringing her flush beneath me, my cock releases a passionate wrath into her sex again.

  She grips the pillow, and I tear it out of her hands, launching it across the room. “What did I say?”

  “Dom.” Her voice is raw, delectable, broken.

  Aria hums in pleasure as I bury my dick in her soft, silk folds. I tweak and massage her breasts till her hips buck, and I sense the rise of another climax. Reaching between us, I fuck with her clit. Biting my lip, a primal, aggressive growl releases from my throat. Her sex is out of control, arousal dripping, pussy suctioning at my erection in a way no other woman ever has.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Aria

  I’m drowning in the deep end with no intention of ever coming up. Dominic is a chameleon. The weekend sex, the angry screw at the rooftop restaurant, none of it has my mind reeling like this singular moment. I waited for his dick to break me. Women get used and abused, sign over the deed to their hearts and bank accounts. I can’t condemn them, not anymore.

  He made me cum, just swirling his cock around my clit. Emotions clog my throat, burning my eyes. I gulp in air. Where the fuck is the pillow I had a second ago? Dominic took it and my sanity too. Gripping the sheets, I anchor myself to reality. His sex is a possession that’s torn through my body and soul, straight to my spirit.

  As every inch of Dominic’s athletic physique slides over mine, my wildest fantasies are blown to smithereens. “Marry me” is on the tip of my tongue when he flips me on top of him. Trembling in my own skin, I lock eyes with him as I grind on his dick. With each titillating twirl down his shaft, I claim my sovereignty—my throne, his Cuban cock. Licking my lips, I hitch on oxygen, as one would after a good cry.

  “Just like that, mami.” Dominic leans on his elbows, giving my sex more of him. His face is against my breasts. Kissing, suckling, teeth tugging at my nipples, he murmurs inaudible Spanish words. Though I can’t comprehend them, all I hear is, “I love you.” Yes, I’m wrapped in a blanket of vulnerability. I’ve never wanted to hear those words more in my life, even though I doubt a man like Dominic would ever say them.

  “Dominic,” I groan, my sex spasming on him again. He sits up at the headboard with his massive legs beneath me. My arms slink around his neck, drawing his mouth into a kiss that’s long and deep. It feels like we’re floating to the ceiling, not coming up for oxygen. Ecstasy surrounds us as our tongues twine, and his dick strokes deep. Dominic grips my thighs, and my calves cling to his back. He leans forward, and I arch more. Tremors spark across my spine as his fingertips glide there while he continues to stroke my body.

  “Dom,” is all I can say for fear of uttering something asinine. He presses kisses along my constricted throat, speeding up.

  “Say my name, Aria.” His lips twist into a kinky smile that breaks me all over again.

  “Dominic,” I moan over and over.

  Oxygen swooshes through my lungs as he falls back. His hands on my ass bring my pussy to his face. Like a rag doll, I’m skillfully dominated in any position long enough to cum. My throat grows raw. I can’t get enough of him fucking me every which way.

  “Dominic!” I shout, his name continuing to be the only word in my vocabulary.

  My breasts press against the mattress. The friction of my nipples rubbing roughly makes me pant.

  Claiming the back of my neck, Dominic says, “Soon as you can no longer say my name, mami, I’ll stop fucking you.”

  Fire ignites across my slick flesh. I lift up onto my knees, plowing my ass and pussy back against him. Pulling at the last reserve of my energy, I determine never to stop saying his name.

  Last night, I joked about what round we were on after Dominic stopped fucking me. He said, “one,” for him, while I joshed, “fifty-two.” Sometime later, my voice became a muddled mess of incoherence again, and partially due to the sex.

  I awaken to his golden limbs entwined with my darker ones. Peace radiates off my skin as the Miami morning sun glows down over us.

  Like yesterday, my eyes water. Though sex had me undone, today, guilt stitches me back up, haggard and all wrong.

  ReAnna never experienced this.

  “So, what’s on your mind, chula?” Dominic’s baritone is a low pitch of sincerity as his knuckles draw across my cheek.

  “You. Now.”

  “Before that?”

  “I woke up on cloud nine.”

  “Then?”

  Damn, he’s good. I clear my throat. “I thought about . . .”

  Dominic climbs on top of me. He drops a kiss on my collarbone. “You thought about . . .”

  “My twin. Force of habit, every day of my life. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  El Santo

  Break her to break him was my intention. My hermano fell in love a long time ago with a woman who belonged to me. Alejandra was mine. It’s only fitting I even the score. I sit at the edge of the bed. The two flat screens on my wall were pure erotica last night.

  Him fucking her.

  Him falling for her.

  Dominic pulled all those moves. I’ve seen him fuck women before. Sometimes too horny to close the fucking door. Sometimes in different areas of the house, but not with LeAnna. His precious lays hidden.

  From the secret camera I’ve installed in his room, I observed him with boundless partners. Now, I’ve learned what makes LeAnna different.

  I shovel another spoonful of cereal in my mouth. I grit my teeth, pointing my cereal spoon at the screen. “You keep falling for LeAnna, Dom. The second you let those words fly out your mouth, I’m coming to get that puta.”

  In the beginning, I watched LeAnna out of amusement. Had she found me and not him, she’d have died long ago. The conclusion to her life changed when I saw the mariposa photograph in her room. As El Santo, I give second chances. Her text about the tapas bar had been a third redemption as well.

  “Fuck, I’m tired of saving my ángeles. You could have saved me, LeAnna!” My hand plows against the bowl. It clatters off the TV tray. Milk, oats, and ceramic turquoise fragments scatter across the floor.

  Pounding a hand at my chest, I growl. “You could’ve stopped my addiction, LeAn—”

  “My twin,” LeAnna murmurs.

  My head tilts. Twin? She’s a twin? What twin? I muse, gawking at the screen eager for her response.

  “You ready to talk about it?” Dominic asks.
>
  “No, Dom.”

  “Sometimes, it helps to—”

  “Oh, sure. My gramps had me prayed over. I’ve had a shrink since I was six. Pretty much all my life. Wanna know the most valuable lesson I’ve learned?”

  “Sí,” I whisper at the same time as my twin does. It’s been a long, long time since I addressed him as my hermano gemelo—twin brother. We share no connection unless deep-rooted hate is involved.

  “I’ve already told you. I shouldn’t be happy, Dominic.”

  While she utters his name, I hear Dario.

  I come to my feet and move toward my desk with the towers of desktop computers. I’m prepared to complete an investigation of my own when LeAnna’s voice stops me.

  “Sarah Beckett. That’s the name of the person ReAnna walked away with. We were at a family reunion—huge park in Texas. Sarah overheard me mention chocolate sundaes. My favorite. I was the fat, awkward twin while Re was perfection.”

  My knees buckle. The feeling in my limbs had started to return to me four years ago. But I drop my hands behind me, clinging to the end of the bed to stop myself from falling, from being fully paralyzed.

  She was overweight.

  She was awkward?

  Different?

  We are different.

  With my attention glued to the screen, I murmur, “Tell me more, LeAnna.”

  Why did she change her name? I did a thorough background of Aria Jones the day I sensed her presence. My extensive background spanned the past decade, not her entire life.

  I have questions! Dominic sits there, holding her. “You’re useless, pendejo! Inquire. Show LeAnna that you give a fuck about her, idiota.”

  A hard laugh stutters from my lips, and I rub the back of my neck. “You keep surprising me, LeAnna. First, I humored you, waited to break your fucking neck because you found me. But you didn’t. Then . . . I grew fond of your meaningless attempts. Enter Dominic in the scenario, and you became collateral. Break you, break him.”