by K. Webster
“I need to feel something good again,” she murmurs, her voice an unsure whisper.
I’ll make her feel so damn good.
I bury my face between her thighs and run my tongue along her slit. She lets out a cry of pleasure. I’ve barely touched her, yet she’s already writhing in need.
“You need this, don’t you? You need to come all over my tongue to feel better. Am I right, Brie?”
She hisses out a yes before tangling her fingers in my hair. I ravish her wet cunt until she’s quivering so hard I think she’s having a seizure. The moment she starts to come down from her new high—a natural high I gave her—I slip a finger inside of my wife’s hot body. It’s been nearly a month since I’ve been inside of her. I’m dying to be with her again.
“Are you ready, mi amor?” I question as I pull my finger from her body. It glistens in the morning light pouring in through the window. “Tell me you need this.”
Her eyes are hooded and she chews on her bottom lip in a way that nearly has me coming in my boxers. God, she’s fucking gorgeous.
“Tell me,” I growl.
“I need you to put me back together again.”
Sweet goddamn music to my ears.
I suck her juices from my finger before pushing down my boxers. Once I’m fully naked, I climb on top of my wife so I can watch her.
I need to see the way her eyes widen when I push into her.
“Oh, Duvan…”
I need to feel the way her body stretches just barely wide enough to allow my cock entry.
“Yes…”
I need to kiss away her loud moan as I drive into her as deep as her body will allow.
“Mmmm…”
Our teeth clash in a needy way as I kiss the fuck out of her. My hips seem like they’re spring loaded. Thrust after powerful thrust without any sign of slowing. Her body grips my cock in such a way, it takes every part of me not to shoot my load into her well before she’s ready to orgasm again.
“I love you, tigress,” I murmur against her mouth.
She nods but doesn’t repeat the sentiment. I’m not stung by it. This girl has been to hell and back. I’ll wait her out. Eventually, I will hear those words from her…even if it’s the last thing I hear on this earth.
“Duvan,” she cries out. “This feels…”
All it takes is sliding my hand between us and grazing a finger across her sensitive clit to have her bucking wildly beneath me. A climax so soul gripping it makes her gasp for air ripples through her body—from her cunt all the way to her curled toes. Her body clenches beautifully around my cock until I’m unable to hold off any longer. With a gush of heat, I release my seed into her. I mark her and erase every place where my bastard brother was inside her.
She is mine.
When the quakes of pleasure seem to subside from her and my dick softens, I lift up so I can see her beautiful face. Her cheeks are still pink. Those haunted brown eyes now shimmer with a hint of peace. And the full lips I’ve missed so desperately are swollen and curve slightly up on one side into a half-smile.
“What were you going to say?” I question, an eyebrow quirking up.
Her smile widens and it’s fucking beautiful. “This feels…” Once again, she trails off.
“This feels like love?” I quip.
“This feels right,” she says with a nod. “Thank you.”
It’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I’ll take it. It feels perfect to me. She’s all I’ll ever need. Fuck this family business. Fuck this country. Fuck everyone and everything but her.
“I want to take you on a honeymoon,” I tell her. “Let’s leave. We’ll vacation somewhere fucking epic and then we’ll talk about a better future. A future where you’re always safe.”
Our eyes meet and I see the desperation in hers. The need to feel secure and protected. I’ll fucking do whatever it takes to keep her free of harm.
“What sort of future?”
I run my thumb over her bottom lip and grip her chin. “One where you can see your friends more frequently. One where you aren’t a sitting duck. One where we could have a family.”
Tears well in her chocolate orbs and she kisses the pad of my thumb. “You’d do that? Leave this place for me?”
Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against hers. “Tigress, I would do anything for you. Just let me. Let me be that man.”
Her fingers link behind my neck and she nods. My dick that had begun to slip out of her slippery opening hardens back to life. Slowly, I thrust into her.
“What do you say?”
She locks her legs around my waist and keeps me still for a moment. “Let’s do it. Let’s go find our happily ever after.”
I kiss her hard as I drive into her. When we’re both gasping for air and on the brink of another orgasm, I nuzzle my nose against hers. “I’m going to love you until your heart stops bleeding from all the deep lacerations you’ve endured, that life has so cruelly inflicted.”
“And what if it never stops?”
Lifting up, I smirk at her. “Then I’ll simply keep loving you until mine stops beating in my chest.” I suck on her bottom lip when she lets out a wail, her orgasm stealing her momentarily away from me. When I come this time, I nearly black out from the pleasure. Sex was always one of my favorite activities. But sex with love, well, that’s quickly becoming an obsession.
I’ve always had an addictive personality.
And I’ll gladly inject her into my soul for the rest of my life.
“I miss them,” Brie says as she sits down on the sofa beside me in the living room. We’ve yet to go downstairs since Esteban ruled over her like a mad king in my basement.
“I know you do, tigress,” I tell her and slide her down on the cushions in front of me. She lets me pull her to my chest. I push the button on the remote and Stand By Me starts playing again. I’m not sure if she’s actually paying attention to the movie or lost in her thoughts. Either way, I hug her close and keep my lips pressed against her neck.
“Are we safe?” she questions, a twinge of fear in her voice.
I stroke her hair away from her face and tug at her earlobe with my teeth. “Ravi and my men have eyes on the house. They’re also hunting for my brother. You’re safe.”
She turns in my arms, ignoring one of her favorite eighties movies and frowns. “I asked if we were safe.”
Her worried frown has me smiling. God, she’s so fucking cute. “You worried about me?”
I love the way her cheeks blush when she gets embarrassed. Like now. Sexy as fuck.
“I just want to leave this place. I want to pack a bag and start over. This,” she waves around the living room but indicating more than this space, “isn’t you. You’re better than this. You’ve got a college degree in business and a good head on your shoulders. We can have a better life. I don’t need much.” Her gaze drops to my lips before darting back up to my eyes. “Just my friends and my family. You’re my only family, Duvan.”
Gripping onto her hair, I kiss her hard. I want her to feel how much I love her. To understand that she’s my family too. When she pulls away from our kiss, I grin at her.
“We leave in the morning. I’ll have Luciano pack up your posters and stuff. We’ll have them sent wherever we land,” I promise.
“What about Luciano?”
It warms me that her and my housemaid have grown so close. Luciano was always a scared little mouse. After what Esteban did to her, she was afraid of her own shadow. But when he victimized Brie too, they connected in a way no two other people could. They became best friends. It’s cute how they text all goddamned day about the weirdest shit—never ever touching on what happened—but instead blabbing on about Justin Bieber, Dirty Dancing, and cat videos of all things. I’ve never seen Luciano laugh as much as when she’s around my wife.
“While we honeymoon, I’m sure she’d love to visit her mother. But know this. Luciano goes where I go. She’s my responsibility to look after. Now that
we’re married, she’s our responsibility,” I tell her. “When we find someplace permanent, she’ll come too.”
“What if she doesn’t want to come?” she pouts.
I laugh and peck at her nose. “She’ll come. We’ll bribe her with Justin Bieber shit.”
Brie snorts. “You’re right. She’ll come.”
We both relax, lost in our thoughts. Her finger traces the tattoos on my bare chest. After some time, she looks up at me. “I’m ready for that tattoo.”
Smirking, I raise a brow. “Is that so?”
“Will you get one with me?”
“Baby, I’ll do whatever you want. Where do want it?”
She scrunches her nose as she thinks. “Somewhere I can look at it every day. Maybe my wrist.”
I pull her bare left wrist to my mouth and kiss the flesh. “There?”
A smile graces her lips. “Yeah. Definitely there.”
“What do you want?”
Without hesitation, she murmurs, “A heart. With tiger stripes inside.”
“Tiger stripes for my brave little tigress. I like it.”
She beams at me. “What will you get?”
“I’ll get the same.”
Her lip curls up. “You’ll get a girly heart on your wrist?”
Tugging her wrist back to my mouth, I suckle her. “I’ll have you there with me. Who the fuck cares if it’s girly? You’re girly, and I want you on me.”
She giggles and snuggles against me. “Let’s do it as soon as we land wherever it is we’re going.”
“That’s a promise, mi amor.”
“Where are we going anyway?” she questions, her hand slipping between us. When she grabs my cock, I groan in pleasure.
“Wherever the fuck you want to go,” I promise.
She laughs, the sound soft and sweet. “That’s because I have your cock in my hand.” My eyes close as I relax in her grip. I’m most definitely fucking addicted to her.
“Fine, we’re going to Venezuela. I thought you might want to see where you’re from. Plus,” I tell her through gritted teeth as she strokes me just inside my sweatpants. “They have beaches. And I’m dying to fuck you in the ocean, mi amor.” I peek open my eyes to gauge her reaction. Instead of laughing, she’s quiet.
Her eyes are watery when she looks up at me. “Thank you.”
I smirk. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t had my cock while we snorkel.”
A snort of laughter on her end has me chuckling. “You better keep your peter in your pants when we swim in the ocean. Just yesterday Luciano sent me a video of a guy swimming naked. A fish swam right up to him and took a bite of his dick. He came out of the water with a fish hanging from his cock!”
I cringe at what that must have felt like. “Luciano has to stop sending you crazy shit and—” The words die in my throat as she eases herself down my body. Her lips wrap around the weeping head of my cock and all thoughts of anything but her perfect fucking mouth dissipate around me.
“I love you, tigress,” I hiss through clenched teeth as she takes me deep in her throat.
Our eyes meet, and hers twinkle with happiness.
I fucking make her happy.
Her molten browns tell me she loves me too.
I don’t need to hear the words.
I see them.
I know it with every goddamned fiber of my being.
Gabriella Rojas loves me.
She’s happy.
As much as it rips my heart straight from my chest, I can’t help but smile back at her via our Skype session. Now that we’ve been back in San Diego for a few weeks, and we know Brie’s safe with Duvan, I feel empty and lost. We’d finally reconnected after our fight where she said she hated me. Selfishly, I’d wanted her to fall for me again. For us to pick back up where we left off.
But she’s in love.
With another man.
A man I drove her to with my lies.
Those two days I’d seen her, she suffered immensely. I’d even overheard Duvan talking to Oscar about the long road of recovery she had ahead of her. With everyone there hovering, she’d seemed more anxious. So brittle. I knew in order for her to get better, we needed to leave. So we did. I trusted that fucker to bring her back to her old self and surprisingly he did.
That was what was so hard.
Despite her anger and sickness from the heroin withdrawal overwhelming her, I’d seen the slivers of her love for him shining through. It was something solid and unbreakable. And it was something that I knew gave her hope. I’d have been an ass to fuck with that. In the end, I was the friend she needed and let him be her husband.
“Margarita Island looks like the best honeymoon destination. I still can’t believe Duvan rented a house there,” Vee gushes. “How long will you stay?”
Brie’s lying on her side chewing on some red licorice. “I don’t know. I like it here. Duvan and I have seen all the sights. Next week he’s going to take me to my mom’s birthplace to see if we can locate some of her extended family.” Her voice grows soft, and she avoids looking at me. Vee squeezes my knee in support while I swallow down the disgust. There will always be a wedge between Brie and I—friends or not—since my own flesh and blood murdered her mother. “Anyway, enough about us. What are you two up to?”
Vee flashes me a smile. “Ren’s going to take me into the city to look at apartments near the college. We’ll be going to school together in the fall. I doubt we’ll have any classes together, though.”
Brie’s eyes narrow and she sits up on her elbow. “Where are Oscar and Calder?”
“Calder’s on babysitting duty. My mom had Mason while we were in Bogotá, so now that we’re back, she and Dad have needed the extra help,” I tell her. What I don’t tell her is that he’s babysitting her half-sister Toni. Ever since she shut down when I mentioned her sister, I’ve kept my lips sealed until a better moment presents itself. If she ever comes to visit, I’ll encourage her to meet my little Toto.
“And Oscar is helping his dad. Esteban hasn’t resurfaced yet,” Vee chimes in. But as soon as she says Esteban’s name, she flinches.
We both watch Brie for a reaction. Her eyes dart to the screen. A flash of hunger flickers in them. A need for what he forced upon her. While we were visiting a few weeks back, she painstakingly rehashed every morbid detail of how Esteban quickly got her hooked on heroin and every sick moment of how he made sex a part of the packaged deal. Brie was devastated she’d stooped to such a low level.
Nobody blames her.
Not me.
Not Calder.
Not Vee.
Not Oscar.
And certainly not her husband, Duvan.
Brie looks over her shoulder and then back at us. A haunted look passes over her features. “Sometimes I miss it…I miss him…” Her words are low and hollow. She swipes at a tear and sniffles. “It’s stupid and disgusting, but sometimes I think if he walked through the door right now, I’d be excited to see him. A feeling of warmth would pass over me as I anticipate the heat of the heroin. Oh, God, I feel like a sick, sick girl…”
“You’re not sick,” Vee assures her. “You went through something so terrible. I’m sorry you had to go through it alone.”
Brie, looking unconvinced, flickers her gaze to mine. “Do I disgust you?”
I gape at her like she’s lost her mind. “You could never disgust me, Brie. Never.”
When a door shuts behind her, she sits up and plasters on a smile. Soon, Duvan saunters into the room in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. His body is tatted up, and it makes me feel stupid for the one tattoo I have. Like I’m just a poser with my tribal wave on my left pectoral. This motherfucker is colored on every visible part of his flesh. It looks cool as hell on him, and I’m jealous.
I’m also jealous that he gets her.
My Juliet.
The girl I had in my grasp but lost because of the lies that stood between us.
His arm wraps around her and he hauls her to
him. As soon as they touch, she relaxes against him. I see it. I see the comfort and love so obvious it may as well be a blinking sign over them. As much as I hate the guy and how he swooped in behind me, picking up the broken pieces of her, I’m glad he was there to put her back together again. I’m thankful as fuck he’s found a way to make her smile.
She deserves to be happy.
After all she’s been through, Brie needs peace.
If that Colombian fucker can give it to her, I can accept that.
But moving on is going to be such a bitch. The very idea of dating again has my stomach roiling in disgust.
I’m so zoned out, watching the way he strokes her arm just above her elbow that I don’t realize they’re talking to me. “What?”
“Pay attention, dork,” Vee says with a laugh and bumps me with her shoulder.
I blink away my daze and drag my eyes from his fingers to Brie’s face. “What’s that?”
“I asked,” Duvan mutters, slight contempt in his voice, “if you liked our new tattoos.”
Brie’s cheeks redden and she looks down at her lap.
“I didn’t know you wanted a tattoo, Brie,” I say leaning forward so I can see better.
Brie shrugs and lets Duvan drag her wrist to the screen. It’s a heart with black and yellow stripes like a tiger. Inside on one of the yellow stripes, written in black, is his name. Duvan. He then holds his wrist out. While the artwork looked cool on her arm, aside from donning that fuck’s name, his looks gay. Duvan has the same girly heart with matching stripes, but Brie’s name is on his.
They got matching goddamned tattoos.
This really is serious.
All tiny rays of hope I’d had for them to realize their marriage was not one out of love, but instead one of arranged necessity, fly out the window. People who are merely together out of arranged necessity don’t get each other’s names tatted on themselves.
From here on out, Brie really will really only ever be a friend.
