The King of Infierno

by Jasmine Hill

  “You. Are. So. Beautiful,” he murmured. “The way you look right now, wild hair and dewy-eyed and positively satiated is so fucking hot. I think you’re ready for my cock now.”

  She frowned. “I’ve been ready for that for a long time.”

  “No, you haven’t,” he disagreed. “I needed you to be soft and compliant, totally relaxed.”

  He slid a hand down her torso, between her breasts and over her belly until he reached her sex.

  “See how wet you are?” he asked huskily. He dipped a finger in, swirling gently, and lowered his mouth to hers and spoke against her lips. “You’re slick and hot and slightly swollen from your orgasm. Now, you’re ready for me to fuck you.”

  She moaned into his mouth and rubbed her sex against his cock. He licked her lips and chuckled. “You are a desperate little virgin. Christ, I have to take you, and when I do, you’ll be mine. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t really, but she was willing to agree to anything just to have him inside her finally. She bucked her hips more forcefully and whimpered.

  He drew his head back to stare into her eyes. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, yes,” she cried. “I understand.”

  He smiled triumphantly and rose to his knees. She gazed at his muscular chest and arms, the muted sunlight through the drapes casting the sculpted lines of his torso in shadow, making him appear almost stone-like.

  He whipped the towel from around his waist and tossed it aside. His cock bounced heavily then settled hard and erect against his lower abdomen.

  She gaped at him. She’d suspected that it was big, but the actual sight of it was slightly intimidating. She gulped and looked up into his eyes.

  “It’s okay, angel. It’ll fit,” he promised. He settled once more on top of her, his arms taking his weight, dropped his head to hers and kissed her softly.

  She relaxed under him and wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss and moaning into his mouth.

  He drew away from her. “Bring your knees up,” he murmured, grasping her ankles and placing her feet flat on the mattress. He swirled his fingers over her cleft, spreading her moisture. “That’s it, baby. You’re so ready for me. I can’t wait to feel this tight little cunt, bare, around my cock. I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom and the thought of your sweet little pussy fisting my shaft is sending me over the edge.”

  He crawled on top of her again, the head of his cock brushing over her center. He planted his elbows on either side of her head and cupped her face in both hands. Then he plunged, hard and deep.

  “Arghh,” she cried out as a hot pain pierced her.

  She opened her eyes and stared up at the look of wild exultation crossing his features.

  “Shh. Relax,” he hushed her, trailing soft kisses over her face. He stilled for a moment then withdrew and plunged forward once more.

  The pain receded slowly and she started to relax. She opened her legs wider and thrust up with her hips.

  Donovan grunted. “That’s it, baby. You feel so good. You’re so fucking tight.”

  Spreading warmth replaced the piercing twinges and she gasped as he drilled into her harder, pulling out entirely then plunging back in to the hilt. She used her feet on the mattress as leverage and matched his rhythm, arching her back and tilting her pelvis to allow him deeper access. She pushed the residual pain to the back of her mind and focused on the building pleasure.

  “Christ,” he cursed. His jaw tightened as he battled with his self-control. “Keep your eyes open.”

  Makayla snapped her eyes open to see his hard features as he moved inside her. She dropped her gaze to his torso and watched his abdominal muscles undulating deliciously with each surge of his body.

  She felt so full. He was big and rigid and so deep each thrust seemed to bump against her cervix. The sensations overwhelmed her and she groaned, the pain replaced by an intense pleasure.

  He rose to his knees, scooped one hand under her back, the other under her butt, and pulled her up so she sat straddling his lap.

  “Oh, my God,” she choked out, the new position sending his cock surging straight to her core.

  He grunted in her ear. “Yes, baby, it’s fucking deep this way.” He tightened his hold on her and pumped harder.

  Her insides started to spasm and convulse. She whimpered as pleasure pulsated slowly outward.

  “You’re close,” he groaned. “Come for me. Give it up, Makayla.”

  A dam burst and ecstasy crashed over her. “Donovan!” She went rigid in his arms, her pussy clenching and throbbing in release.

  “Christ! You’re fucking milking me.” He grasped her tighter and held her still while he thrust his pelvis up and drilled into her harder.

  She flopped against him in exhaustion and allowed him to manipulate her body to his will.

  He adjusted his hold on her and clenched her hips, pulling her down while he pushed up three more times. Then he stiffened, clutching her close as he emptied inside her and roared her name.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Donovan stood over Makayla and gazed at her as she slept. She was lovely in slumber, her copious golden hair spread out on the pillow, her thick eyelashes fanning out on her pale cheeks.

  Blood streaked her thighs and the sheet. That’ll give the maids something to talk about. He chuckled wryly. He strode into the bathroom and filled the sink with warm water then dunked a cloth in. After returning to the bed, he swiped it over Makayla’s thighs. He pulled her legs apart gently and cleaned between them, dabbing the cloth over her pink folds with care. She didn’t budge. He’d obviously exhausted her. He hoped to hell that he hadn’t hurt her, because there seemed to be a lot of blood, but that was to be expected, he supposed. The sight of it appealed to the darkness in his nature. He’d broken her hymen, which, he admitted, gave him a weird thrill and sent a possessiveness coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the thought of her being with any other man was abhorrent to him, a totally new and unfamiliar feeling.

  He finished tending to her and climbed into bed, pulling her body tight against his and spooning her. He burrowed his head in her hair and inhaled deeply. She smelled of vanilla, shampoo and him—a heady combination. She sighed softly and nuzzled against him in her sleep, her body fitting with his perfectly.

  * * * *

  Donovan awoke slowly, Makayla plastered to his side, neither of them having moved much during the night. He checked the time—eight a.m. He felt great. A full night’s sleep and some sensational fucking had done wonders. Beside him, Makayla yawned, stretched and opened her eyes slowly, her gazing meeting his.

  “Hi there,” he murmured.

  “Good morning.”

  Her voice was huskier than usual and he hardened instantly. Shit, he had to think of something else. She’d be too sore this morning to go a second round. He shifted uncomfortably and her eyes widened when his cock brushed against her hip.

  “Don’t worry.” He smirked. “I’m going to allow you time to recover.”

  She blushed and bit her bottom lip, which just made him throb harder.

  “Don’t do that,” he groaned.

  She giggled.

  “Are you sore?” he asked.

  She frowned and stretched. “I am bit tender,” she confessed.

  “Good. That means whenever you move today, you’ll think of me and where I’ve been.”

  She scowled. “You are kinky.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He changed the subject. “I need to feed you. The little cheese and fruit you had last night wasn’t enough.”

  “I am hungry,” she admitted. “Do we go to one of the restaurants for breakfast?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “No, we have a butler. I’ll call him and have breakfast delivered here. We’ll eat on the balcony. It looks to be a lovely day.”

  He clambered out of bed then strode naked to the bathroom. “We’ll shower together
,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll run the water.”

  Makayla stared at Donovan’s retreating form, trying to grasp what she was seeing. Then the sun hit him and she gasped. His back was scarred, the lines white and ridged against his tanned skin but etched in a pattern. Two eagle’s wings deliberately carved into his skin, taking up the entirety of his back. She’d never seen anything like it before. She had to ask him about it and she wanted a closer look.

  She lay for a moment thinking about the events of the previous evening. One thing was certain—Donovan definitely knew what he was doing in the bedroom. She’d never dreamed that sex could be that good and seriously thought she could get hooked on the feeling. Of course, the number of women he must have experienced to put him in the sex-god league made her shudder. But he was a grown man. Of course, he would’ve had his fair share of women. Makayla would have had her fair share of men by this stage, too, if circumstances had allowed it. She stretched and felt a twinge deep inside and realized that she’d probably be a little tender for a while.

  She got out of bed just as Donovan strode in from the bathroom. She noticed the blood streaking the formerly pristine white sheets and blushed hotly. Why hadn’t she considered that? She knew why, of course—they’d both been too taken up in the moment.

  Donovan gave her a scorching look. “I should have that framed,” he said seriously.

  Makayla gaped at him. “I suppose the next thing you’re going to do is hang it from the balcony like a medieval king.”

  He laughed. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Seriously, Donovan. It’s embarrassing.”

  He pulled her into him and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry about it, angel,” he said with finality. “Now, shower’s running. Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  They had breakfast on the balcony overlooking El Retiro. The sun blazed down on the city and the sky was crystal-clear blue. Donovan was going to some meetings and wouldn’t be available to explore the city with her until later. It was a hot day so she’d spend the morning by the pool. Thinking about sightseeing around the city reminded her about Fernando’s tour options and she also recalled the odd way that Donovan had acted around the manager after they’d checked in.

  Intrigued, she asked, “Why did you turn so cold to Fernando yesterday?”

  Donovan assessed her over the rim of his coffee mug, his mirrored aviator sunglasses making it impossible for her to read his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You weren’t, initially. It was after you introduced me.”

  He sighed and put his coffee mug on the table. “You’re not going to like my answer.”

  “I’m still curious.”

  “Fine. It’s because he was showing interest in you. In the past… On occasion, we shared women.”

  Makayla gasped, startled by his admission. “Do you want to share me with him?”

  “Fuck, no!” he said adamantly. “That’s exactly why I acted the way I did. I wanted him to know without a doubt that it would not be happening with you. Those other women were casual, one-night stands. You’re mine and I don’t share what’s mine.” He looked fierce. “I never did play well with others.”

  Makayla was still reeling from his pronouncement. “What did the women think of this?”

  “They agreed, of course. I wouldn’t force a woman to do something she wasn’t comfortable with. The women I often associated with…had certain appetites. Sharing, or ménages à trois were just a few of those.”

  She needed some time to process that little nugget of information. She changed the subject. “I should have guessed you’d be fluent in Spanish,” she commented, recalling him speaking with Fernando the previous evening.

  “Yes. My mother made me take classes when I was younger. Back then, I hated it, but now I’m eternally grateful to her. It makes business dealings much easier. You’ll find that English is not widely spoken in Madrid. Of course, there are many who speak and understand English, but in day-to-day dealings in shops and bars, smaller restaurants, et cetera? Not so much.”

  “Why are there so many lions in this hotel?” she asked suddenly.

  He frowned. “Lions?”

  “There are statues of lions in the lobby and at the front of the hotel. They seem to be popular here. Do they mean anything?”

  “Do you recall me telling you that this hotel used to be a palace?”

  She nodded.

  “It used to belong to a nobleman and close relative of the royal family. The lions represent power. The royals incorporate lions in paintings, tapestries, statues, fountains, everywhere really, as a symbol of strength.”

  It made sense, she supposed. Donovan knew so much about Spain that she’d have to pick his brains. She nibbled on a croissant and formulated her next question. “I noticed your back.”

  He looked up from his newspaper and gazed at her impassively. “And?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “Does it disgust you?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “I guess I’m more intrigued than anything. I didn’t get a very good look. I just noticed it when you turned to go into the bathroom.”

  He studied her for a moment, his eyes invisible behind his sunglasses. He stood suddenly and whipped off his T-shirt, his muscles bulging deliciously with the action. He turned around and spoke over his shoulder. “I wasn’t hiding it from you, baby. I get mixed reactions. They’re eagle’s wings. Have at it. Look to your heart’s content.”

  Makayla stepped forward and studied Donovan’s back. The scarred lines raised white and stark against his olive skin in a perfect etching of two wings, the detail extraordinary. She ran her index finger over the outline of one long feather.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered in awe. “Did it hurt?”

  “The process is called scarification and there are various methods of achieving the end result. It did hurt, but the healing process is more uncomfortable than the actual scarification itself—at least for me. The skin is tight and itchy for some weeks afterward.”

  “I can’t believe they wouldn’t use any anesthetic to numb the area.”

  “It’s possible to get a mild anesthetic, but the pain is part of the process, the ritual, if you like. Like a spiritual passage, using the pain to heighten the connection between mind and body. It’s been used for years in a number of civilizations for various reasons.”

  Makayla continued to trace the outline of one wing, marveling at the detailed scar tissue. “Why the eagle’s wings?” she asked.

  “The eagle wings represent protection and guardianship… It appealed to that part of my nature.”

  “I wonder if I could bear that pain,” she mused.

  He spun around and took her hands in his. “No. I couldn’t bear to see you go through that, and besides, I like your skin the way it is—smooth and flawless. Would you really want something like this on your body?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it, but no, I don’t think so. I like it on you, though.”

  He grinned. “That’s good, because it’s here to stay.” He looked at his watch. “Now, I need to get organized. I have a meeting in two hours.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Donovan finished tying his tie and looked across to where Makayla stood rummaging through a drawer. José, their butler, had unpacked for them earlier that morning while they’d been eating breakfast.

  “What are you going to do while I’m in meetings?” he asked her.

  “I thought I’d go to the rooftop pool.” She pulled out a minuscule bikini, white with gold embellishment that would make the wearer look seven shades of fucking sinful.

  “You can’t wear that!” he blurted.

  Startled, she looked up. “Why not?”

  “Because there’s barely anything to it,” he snapped, snatching the top out of her hands then holding it up. “Are these two triangles supposed to cover your bre
asts?”

  She laughed. “It was your personal shopper who purchased it.”

  “Don’t you have a one piece you can wear?”

  She shook her head. “No, it seems that she just included bikinis. Stop being a prude.”

  He supposed he was being a little prudish, but the thought of her alone at the pool wearing that sexy little number didn’t sit well with him. But he would have to deal with it and stop acting like a jealous asshole.

  “Fine,” he conceded. “But please be careful.”

  “Of course,” she agreed, standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his mouth.

  He gripped her around the waist and took the kiss deeper, slipping his tongue between her lips to tangle with hers. He pulled away. “Think of me when you’re sore today.”

  She rolled her eyes and nodded.

  Donovan grabbed his briefcase and left the suite. He wanted to pass by Fernando on the way out and tell him that Makayla was off limits. He found him in his office. He knocked once then entered, taking a seat opposite him.

  “Donovan.” Fernando nodded.

  “Fernando.” Donovan nodded back.

  “To what do I owe this visit? Is everything to your liking in the suite?”

  “Everything is in order, as usual.”

  “And how is the lovely Makayla this morning?”

  “She’s fine. She’s the reason I wanted to see you, actually. To emphasize to you that she’s off limits.”

  Fernando smirked. “Yes, your possessive attitude when you arrived told me that she’s special to you. Pity, she’s very beautiful.” He assessed Donovan thoughtfully. “There’s something about her. She seems innocent. Not your usual type.”

  “No, she’s not my usual type,” Donovan agreed. “That’s one of the reasons that I won’t be sharing her, even if she wasn’t opposed to the idea.”

  “Will you be taking her to Infierno?”