I’m going to gift her what she’s freely given me by just being here when I needed her the most. My Muñeca isn’t meant to be controlled but cherished. She’s meant to fly.
And I’m going to unleash and welcome the craziness with open arms because I am her home. Her peace. Her love.
“You’re serious?” Confusion mars her features for a second—she doesn’t understand my putting on the brakes, but I’m doing it for her. Apart from enjoying the day just the two of us, I want her to relax and enjoy herself. To yearn for and enjoy my touch as the hours pass. “But aren’t you the one that asked for easy access?”
“I did.”
“Then why—”
“Because I enjoy having free access to that lightly tanned flesh and the wetness that coats your inner thighs.” Mariah inhales sharply, chest heaving. “Because when I touch you, I’m not going to ask for permission or deal with obstacles delaying the inevitable.”
“And what’s that?”
Lowering my face down to Mariah, I bypass her pouting lips and kiss the shell of her ear. “My cock buried deep inside that tight little cunt while your screams of pleasure disturb the peace of every beast that roams this jungle. I’m going to take you, baby. Fuck you. But first, I’ll prove that you’re my queen first and whore after.”
Then, I walk away. Give her a moment to collect her thoughts and calm the shivers.
Mariah enters the house an hour later, and she’s calm. A little too calm.
I smile when her small body sits beside me on the couch, relaxing into my side while slipping beneath my arm. Hugging herself to my bare chest. She’s collected, and her body isn’t showing outward signs of arousal, but fuck, I can smell it. This sweet little whisper of her that infiltrates my senses as if she’s touched what’s mine—
Bringing her delicate hand to my lips, I leave open-mouthed kisses over each tip and catch the hint of her taste. Bad girl. “Are you hungry, Mariah?”
“A little.” Voice low and a bit meek, she looks up at me from beneath long lashes with a wisp of contriteness in her expression. You know I know. “Is there anything you’d like me to make?”
“No need.” And because I can, I wrap my lips around her middle and pointer fingers, sucking once and pull back. Mariah’s orbs become heavy-lidded and body rigid, and then her nipples poke through again. Christ, they’re perfect. “I’m here to cater to you, sweetheart.”
“I don’t mind, though. We can cook together and—”
“You’ve done enough.” My girl’s smart enough to not argue—deny— her theft and then nods. “Why don’t you rest for a bit.”
“Can I take a shower or a bath?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Are you uncomfortable?” At my question, she squirms a bit and I smirk. “You touched yourself and will now sit there in your wetness and wait. No complaining. No begging.”
“I can always take a dip in the lake.” Not a threat, but a statement. Pushing to see if I snap and give her the one thing she needs. Craves.
Me. My touch. My cock.
“Go ahead. See what happens if you do.”
No response. No pushing me away.
Instead, Mariah purses her lips and tries to relax back into my arms. She can’t, though.
My denial makes her wet. More than the pathetic orgasm she might’ve had a few minutes prior.
“I didn’t come,” she says this low, so low I almost missed it, but I can’t deny the fire that rushes through my veins at her confession. “Just couldn’t finish.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you.” On her next intake of breath, Mariah finds herself on her back, looking up at me with wide excited eyes. “Hi,” she says and it’s breathless, her chest expanding, and every inhale rubs the two pointy tips on her chest against mine. For me to feel the metal surrounding each nipple.
“You love to tease and push, baby girl.” I’m throbbing, my cock pressed tightly against her mound. “I hope you’re prepared to deal with the consequences of this disrespect.”
“Please.” One word, and the last thread of patience left in me snaps. “Take what is yours.”
Closing my eyes, I nod and breathe in deep.
I had plans for us. I wanted to cook and spoil and make love to her slowly.
“I’m going to ask for your forgiveness now.” My voice is rough and my body shakes, but I keep my eyes soft when I look down at her. She’s everything to me, and I need her to understand this—know that no one comes before her. “Because once I’m inside of you, there will be nothing in this world that can pull me away.”
“Javi, I trust you. I—”
“I love you more than my own life, Mariah.”
A warm hand cups my jaw, and she pulls me down to her, my lips just touching hers. “I love you, too. In an almost obsessive crazy way and without control. All I want is you. All I think about is you.”
“Motherfuck.” It’s a rough exhale. A harsh shiver that runs from the top of my head and settles on my swelling cock. I’m throbbing—pulsing within the warmth of my girl’s parted thighs.
She makes me lose touch with reality.
With the regime I’ve followed since the day I made my first kill.
I’m hers to do with as she pleases, and when she kisses me again, I give in. Lose myself in her touch and scent, in the way her plump lips feel against my own. Jesus, she’s sweet and soft and explores my mouth with a keening mewl—almost begging for more of me. My touch. My cock.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life spoiling you, beautiful. I’ll live for you.” Her hips undulate at that, and the thin fabric of her dress slips over her hips, exposing her cunt to the cool air. She hisses and I pull my lips from hers, looking down to the soft pink flesh. “So fucking pretty.”
“Please.”
“What do you need?” I’m rewarded with another horny little sound, but right now I need more. “Use your words.”
“Kiss me. Touch me.”
“Like this.” With the tip of two fingers, I part her labia at the same time I retake her lips. I swallow her moans. Taste her need. She’s wet and pliant, her noises filling the room with a symphony that I wish to spend the rest of my life listening to. “Or like this?”
“All of it as long as it’s with you.”
“Til death do us part.” I slip a finger inside and pump it a few times. Then add another. Mariah’s tight, walls clenching, and I smile against her mouth, deepening the kiss—her tongue battles mine for dominance, but gives in when I bite her lips.
We’re a brutal explosion of lust and hunger, this raw, uncontrollable yearning that I call home. She’s my reason and purpose.
“Javi,” she moans, a reverent sound when I nip her chin and down the path to her neck. Her skin flushes under my ministration, her nipples hard, and I bite one while slipping from her small hole. Wetness coats my fingers and I rub her clit with the pad of my middle finger. “More.”
Tight circles. Pressing down hard.
“Take your tits out,” I hiss out, giving each tip a lick over the cotton and pull back. Shaky hands do as I say and undo the top three buttons slowly, teasing me, but I’m past the point of patience.
I smack her clit, and she opens the next two a little faster. This won’t do.
Grabbing the bit of undone fabric in my hands, I rip it down the middle.
Buttons scatter. A gasp escapes her.
The look in her eyes is intoxicating, and I take a moment to look at her just like this:
She’s on her back and looking up at me with hooded eyes, tits on display and her pussy lips wet with desire. This woman is my heaven. My weakness. Mine.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Muñeca.”
“And you’re perfect for me,” she whimpers, spreading her thighs wider on my couch. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Kneeling between her parted thighs, I place a finger at her mouth and dip it between wet lips. Her breath is warm and
her tongue soft. Her throat bobs and I trace a path down to the center of her chest before cupping a tit, my fingernail flicking the metal adorning the pebbled tip, and then the other before taking it between my lips, my tongue lapping at the sensitive flesh.
“More.” One of her hands embeds itself into my hair and tugs me closer, holding me against her breast. And I suck harder, flipping between the two tips until her free hand slips between us and pulls at the drawstring of my shorts, pushing the waistband low enough that the engorged head slips out. “No foreplay. I want you just like this.”
I can feel her heat. If I snap my hips, I’d be buried deep.
Mariah traces the head while her thighs try to push the basketball shorts lower. They don’t move much, but just enough to rub the first few inches over her clit before I bite down on the flesh between her breasts.
She screams and I pull back, admiring the perfect indentation of my teeth.
I want her body littered with these. With my mark.
My cock throbs, and I look down in time to catch the sight of a little pre-come falling onto her skin. So fucking beautiful.
“I’ll love you slowly later.” I take my hands from her body long enough to remove my shorts and then toss them aside somewhere, could care less where they land. Her dress is torn. It hangs on either side of her body and I plan to frame the fabric after. I’ll carry a piece of it in my wallet wherever I go.
That’s how obsessed with her I am. No shame, either.
“And I’ll let you baby me all you want.”
“Good girl.” Rubbing the head of my cock from clit to slit twice, I pause at her entrance. A whimper escapes her, thighs spreading wider—she’s gorgeously indecent. “Now, hold on.”
I’m inside her in one fluid motion, buried to the hilt as her fingernails dig into my arm. She’s arching and bucking against the intrusion while I pull out and slam back in.
No pause. No waiting for her to adjust.
My baby takes my cock so prettily with a cry on her lips and her wetness dripping down to my balls. Her eyes roll back, neck pushing against the cushions. She’s shaking. Breaths labored.
“Baby,” Mariah moans, pulling me down until our chests are flushed and I anchor her to the couch with my hips. Fucking her with hard strokes, and when she clenches, I slip a hand beneath and grip an asscheek.
“You feel so good, Muñeca. So tight.” I flex my hips and then pull out slowly, dragging my cock against her walls before slamming back in. A delicious clench comes from her core, nearly choking my girth. “Again. Do that again.”
My pace is near punishing and every thrust pulls from her a cry of pleasurable pain that hits me in the chest like a sledgehammer. I’ll live the rest of my life worshipping her just to hear those sounds again and again.
She’s my reward. My fucking life.
“Kiss me, Javi. I’m so close.” The nails on my arm move down to my back and the blunt tips rake down to my ass. She grips me, forcing my hips to pound deeper—harder—until those perfect thighs shake. They tremble and squeeze my sides. “Need them.”
And I comply because this woman owns me.
I kiss her with every bit of the passion and love and hunger I hold for her. Mariah’s tongue is soft and she makes a whiny noise at the back of her throat when our tongues twine. She tries to fight for dominance, to control the kiss, but one sharp bite to her bottom lip and two things happen:
She clenches around me and screams into my mouth; I swallow each cry as the sound of her pleasure grows and juices soak my cock. My balls are heavy and the slap of skin on skin is loud, but it’s the way she closes her eyes and smiles that breaks me.
Every muscle in my body coils tight, but I never stop pounding into her, pulling out every last drop of come. Her pleasure comes before mine, and I revel in each spasm. Own her with each snap of my hip.
But when those seafoam-sated eyes focus on me again, a groan escapes and I lose control.
“Motherfuck, Mariah. So tight. So wet.” I slam in a final time and hold myself deep inside, filling her with ropes of come. The euphoric peak knocks the breath from my chest, and I bury my face in her neck, kissing every bit of skin I can reach.
We stay that way for a while. My body on hers and her arms holding me tight.
There’s no rush. No thoughts of her impending flight tomorrow morning where I’m not joining her.
She’ll be in Chicago, and I’ll be here hunting.
Painting the streets with blood.
I’m going to miss you, Muñeca.
23
I NEVER THOUGHT leaving him would be this hard, but it is, and I can’t fight back the tears that spring to my eyes. I can’t help but hold him a little tighter while around us the world carries on without pause; the people walking through this large terminal are either looking for food and drink, or a wall plug to charge their electronics. Because no matter what airport or country you’re in, it’s always the same, except this one time when it feels as though my chest is caving in.
I’m going to miss him. I’m going to need him to come back.
This stubborn, beautiful man that’s swept me off my feet and I’ve been unwilling to fight off as he took possession of my being. I love him. Completely and without pause, my heart belongs to Javier Lucas.
“I’ll be back before you know it, Muñeca.” His arms tighten around me and his lips press to the crown of my head. “Trust me, you’ll be back to kicking me out—begging me to leave Chicago again within a week.”
“Or I kick your ass.” It’s mumbled against his shirt, but the deep rumble of his laugh lets me know he heard. “Promise.”
Javi pulls back just enough to tip my chin up with two fingers, his soft eyes staring deep into mine. “I love you, Mariah Asher. I love and need you and can’t breathe right when you’re not near. Nothing can stop me…not even God himself, from coming back to you. Trust me.”
“I do.” My reply is without hesitation, and it earns me one of those cocky smirks that I adore. “Find them, Javier.”
“We already—”
He stops talking when I shake my head and pull him down low enough that I can reach the shell of his ear. “You’re not understanding me.” I take a moment then to just breathe him in, soothe my soul with his touch, before exhaling against his skin. “Baby…” Javi’s fingers tighten their hold; they dig into the bruises from last night and I whimper, the sound just as needy as I am, but now is not the time. When I leave, go back to Chicago, I need him to focus on my request. To carry it out before coming back to me. “Baby, I need you to find them and kill each slowly. I need you to make them suffer, dismember them limb by limb until there’s nothing left but the horror-filled expression on their faces before taking their last breath. And when it’s done, and the country knows to never cross a Lucas again…come home.”
He releases a shuddering breath, but I don’t stay to hear his confirmation. Instead, I extricate myself from his hold and walk toward the boarding area and wait to be called. It doesn’t take long, and just when I cross the entrance to the tunnel, I look back and immediately find his eyes.
Javier’s been watching. He’s giving me a look full of promise.
But more than that is the subtle nod. It’s his agreement to my terms.
A week has come and gone without news from Colombia.
No local coverage of violence abroad. No Spanish-speaking networks discussing political unrest of affluent families with ties to criminal activities.
Not a damn thing, and I was losing my mind with worry.
This is also why I didn’t notice the large bouquet of black roses sitting just outside my door after work. Again, there wasn’t a note or a card from the shop making the delivery, but it’s now clear to see this isn’t a mistake.
Someone wants my attention, and the first person that crosses my mind is Mildred.
She slept with Lane and possibly my father. She’s still roaming around according to Malcolm, and while I’m sure in part it has to do
with her twin still being alive, my gut tells me there’s more.
That I’m that more.
Pulling out my phone, I dial Malcolm, but it goes straight to voicemail. Crap, he’s still probably in the meeting with the Jameson family. The customary bland and impersonal message comes through the line followed by a beep to respond.
“Call me when you get this. I just got another delivery.” He’ll know what I’m talking about and I hang up, looking down at the screen again with this uncontrollable urge to call Javier. My finger swipes down the contact list, hovering just above the call button beside his name. “Screw it.”
It rings after a few seconds. And rings three more times.
No answer. Nothing.
All I receive is a generic instruction to call back because his inbox is full.
“Guess not, then.” With the bottom of my foot, I nudge the arrangement inside and leave it on the floor beside the entrance. I’m sure Malcolm will send someone later to pick it up, and I’d rather not get my fingerprints on it. “Hopefully he’ll call later.”
Without pause, I toe off my slingbacks and leave them there as well, walking barefoot toward my room. My phone is still in my hand and my attention is garbage, which explains why after changing and heating some leftover spaghetti, I pick up the video call without checking the caller ID first.
Dad’s face is the last one I want to see, but there he is, smiling. “Why were you out of the country, Mariah? Where have you been?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
He bristles at my detached tone. “You will always be my concern, daughter of mine.”
“You forfeited that right two years ago. I have nothing else to say on the matter.”
“Watch your tone,” he hisses through clenched teeth, glaring at me with so much hatred and disappointment. “You seem to have forgotten your place, Mariah. You are my daughter, and you will respect me.”
“Respect is earned.” A text from Malcolm blinks on the screen and I hit ignore. “Now, what do you want? Calling isn’t something you do and when it occurs, it’s because you need something from me.”
Yours (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 4) Page 17
