by K. Webster
She wraps one hand around the hilt of the knife and she covers it with her other bloody one. She meets my nervous stare with a confident one of her own. “You don’t have tattoos on your chest. How come? The rest of you is covered in tattoos.”
Are we really fucking talking about this in the middle of the hottest, messiest, most psychotic sex I’ve ever had?
“I want those scars to remind me of my past,” I grit out, my dick throbbing with the need to come.
Her green eyes gleam with decisiveness. Then, she starts at my right shoulder with the tip of the blade. The pain is sharp and intense. She slices slowly, almost as if to punish me, along my chest before stopping just below my naval. Blood runs down my ribs in its wake.
“Vienna,” I warn when she lifts the blade again and pokes deep into the flesh opposite of where she started. “Not so deep.”
She loosens her grip and drags the sharp tip down to meet the ending point of her last cut below my naval. V is for vengeance. The pain is intense, but the throbbing of my cock is worse. I swat the knife out of her hand and grab her throat. Her eyes are shining with pleasure when I pull her close to my mouth. She places her palms right over the cuts on my chest for leverage and begins riding my dick like it’s her sole purpose in life. I squeeze her throat until her pale face turns a gorgeous shade of purple.
Our mouths meet for another needy kiss. My grip on her throat loosens the moment her full tits start sliding against my bloody chest. Fuck, this is intense.
“Partners,” I growl as I lift my hips to thrust into her. “Lovers.” Thrust. “Mine.”
She cries out and her body seizes, like the other couple of times I’ve gotten her off. The moment her pussy clenches around me, I lose it. My cock explodes its release deep within her. It isn’t until I’ve drained the last of it and her shaking has subsided, that I let go of her neck. She collapses against my stinging and bloody chest. I hug her to me and kiss her dirty hair. Not even an hour ago, we were in the middle of a gun battle. Now, we’re in a whole new type of battle. This battle takes more skill and so much more is on the line.
“I’m not on birth control,” she whispers.
I stroke her tangled hair. “I know.”
“But…”
“In my country, family is everything.”
She relaxes. “That was…”
“Intense? Hot? Sexy as hell?” I quip.
Her chest trembles as she laughs. “I was going to say fucked up.”
My fingers thread into her hair, and I tilt her head up so I can see her pretty face. Those fiery green orbs have lulled into a sleepy state. I love the look on her. “Mi diablita, you haven’t seen fucked up yet.”
She smirks, which makes my softening cock jolt inside her. “Bring it on, big daddy.”
The black coat she always wears is gone. This time, she wears all white. The one who haunts me isn’t a demon. She’s an angel. I’m stunned as she walks over to me. Her pale arm is outstretched. Blood drips from it. I want to fix her. To make it stop. She brushes her bloody fingertips along my chest and draws a letter against my flesh.
V is for vengeance.
The angel straddles my hips and cradles my face. Her scent—so sweet—envelops me. The hood of her white cloak keeps her hidden from me. But deep down, I know she’s the one I am looking for.
“Diego…”
“Diego.”
My dream mixes with reality, and I have a hard time shaking away the recurring dream. Lately, because I don’t sleep as much, the dream comes more often. I’m always awoken with a sense of loss. In the darkness, though, I am anything but alone. Curled up beside me is my wife.
“Diego,” she murmurs. “It was just a dream.”
She slides out of bed and soon the bathroom light comes on. When she returns, she has a wet cloth. The bed dips as she climbs back in. At least I can see her now. She wipes away the sweat on my brow with a serene smile on her lips.
Is this what my mother would have wanted for me?
All those months I had one “wife” after another in my bed. I was looking for them to fill up a part of me that was empty. But the void always remained. Yet now…now I feel better than I ever have. Vienna in my bed feels right.
“Do you have nightmares often?” she questions as she runs the cloth along my neck. My chest feels tight with every deep breath I take. Last night, after we showered together, I took her down to where Tatiana keeps the medical supplies and I used the medical super glue to fuse our wounds shut.
“Fairly so. Mostly a recurring one. Tonight it was different,” I tell her with a sigh.
“Better or worse?”
“Definitely better. I just wish I could see her.”
Her brows scrunch together. “You can’t see her?”
I frown. “My mother believed dreams were prophetic in a sense. If she were still alive, I’d ask her about them. They started when I was a teenager after…”
Her fingertips brush against the scars on my face. “After this?”
“I almost died. I think hovering between life and death opened my mind a little.”
She discards the rag on the end table and then curls up against me. It feels too nice to have her here. “What happened?”
“Camilo.”
She stiffens. “He hurts lots of people.”
“Not anymore,” I growl.
Her palm rubs along my uninjured flesh on my chest. “Not anymore.”
“My mother was sick. I stole from him. All I wanted was to make enough money for her to get the medical treatment she needed,” I whisper, my voice distant. “He tried to kill me.”
“But you fought him off? You ran away?” she questions.
I shake my head and hug her to me. With her supple naked body pressed against mine, I am calm and relaxed. “Someone saved me.”
“Big bad Daddy Diego needed saving,” she says with a laugh. “Hard to believe.”
I chuckle with her. “An angel saved me.”
“You must not be all bad then, villain, if an angel saved you.”
Sitting up, I give her a grin before sliding out of the bed. I make my way over to the closet to dig around in my chest that holds a few of my mother’s things. It’s all I have left of my past. I lift the lid and root around until I find what I’m looking for. When I approach the bed, she’s lying with her bare back to me. The contrast of her crimson hair against my white pillows is a sight I’ll never get tired of seeing.
“They say when I showed up at the hospital, I was clutching this,” I tell her as I toss my only memory of my angel onto the bed in front of her. I climb in behind her and pull her back against my sore chest. Her fingers grip the stuffed cat and she draws it to her.
“The bloody boy.”
I frown at the smiling cat who has dried blood still on his fur. “I suppose he is a little bloody.”
“No, not Mr. Snuffles,” she whispers. “You’re the bloody boy.”
She rolls onto her back, her green eyes the softest I’ve ever seen them. Her beauty temporarily distracts me from her words which don’t make much sense. I’ve seen many expressions on Vienna’s face but never one so tender and sweet. It’s then that I hope I knock her up right away because I know she’ll give our future children the same look my mother always gave me. My heart nearly explodes with the prospect of such an idea.
“I couldn’t see my angel,” I continue, my mind lost to that day. “I just heard her sweet little voice. A child. A child saved me, Vienna.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “If it weren’t for her stopping him, I’d be dead.”
A tear streaks down her temple. “It was never supposed to be them.”
I frown as I brush a red strand of hair away from her face. “Who, mi diablita?”
“You,” she murmurs, awe in her voice. “It was always supposed to be you.” Her fingertips dance across my scarred face. “I fixed you.”
I fixed you.
It reminds me of all those years ago.
“I fixe
d him. He’s going to get all better now.”
My entire body stills as I stare down at her in confusion. A small, fearless girl. I’d never been able to recall what she looked like but I always remembered the sweet voice.
“You saved me,” I murmur.
My palm reverently strokes her cheek. So often I thought about my angel. So many times I looked for her to thank her. The bold little girl who tried to scare off Camilo Rojas when he was dead set on slicing me to fucking bits for stealing from him.
I slide my palm to her breast and she lets out a gasp. I take advantage of her parted lips and kiss her. I’m dying to convey my thanks to her. Her voice and her gentle touches kept me hanging on as I bled out on the grass. My lips brush against hers softly at first, but then I lose control. She’s sweet—unlike any other woman I’ve tasted—and I’m convinced it’s because she’s truly an angel. Her tongue is tentative, but I don’t care. My tongue shows her the way. I kiss her in a way that tells a story. The kiss is reminiscent of a time when she, although small, held my delicate life in her hands. I was enraptured by my little angel and latched on to her voice that seemed to keep me away from the darkness pulling at me.
I nip at her bottom lip and suck it into my mouth before diving in for another deep kiss. We’re both breathless and panting by the time I reluctantly pull away. But only because I want to look at her.
Her long fingers reach for my face again. With whispering touches that remind me of that fateful day, she brushes her fingertips along my scars. Her eyebrows scrunch together and the tip of her nose wrinkles. She’s so fucking adorable I could scream. I’m flying high on this new revelation. An unknown sensation stirs in my chest, and I like it. I really fucking like it.
Her green eyes darken with emotion. Tears shimmer in her normally fierce eyes as she regards me. “I thought you died.”
“You saved me.”
Her eyes are darting all over me. “Those bandages…they couldn’t have…”
“You ran off Camilo before he could deliver his death blow. Then, you stayed with me while I hovered between life and death. I knew I would find you again,” I murmur before devouring her mouth once more.
I climb on top of her and ease my cock into her perfect cunt. In and out, I drive into her slowly. My eyes take in every little freckle that I took for granted until now. We fuck at an unrushed pace. She can’t seem to stop touching my face, and I can’t stop staring at her gorgeous features.
She is my angel. My fucking destiny.
She’s mine.
And there’s no way around it.
I’M IN A dream.
A dream that consists of lying in bed all day every day where my romantic villain ravishes me until I’m spent and exhausted. For two straight weeks, he’s had his men doing the dirty work while he does me.
It’s heaven.
But when we fuck, it’s something straight out of a porn mag from hell. Diego is a freak. Apparently, so am I. I have the bruises to prove it.
“I have a gift for you,” Diego murmurs, his face buried against my bare chest.
I smile as I run my fingers through his black hair. “I thought what you gave me after breakfast was my gift.”
He chuckles. “Nah, I was just hungry for your cunt. This gift is different.”
“Should I be afraid?” I question, a flutter of butterflies dancing in my stomach.
He lifts up on an elbow and regards me with a sexy grin. His hair is wild and his facial hair has grown out some. I think he looks the hottest when he’s messy and disheveled.
“You never have to be afraid with me.” He leans forward and kisses my lips. “But get dressed. I can’t put this off any longer or I’ll have a five foot nothing tigress flying all the way out here to maul me.”
I frown in confusion. What the hell is he talking about?
“Get dressed, mi diablita.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed in a jade-colored sun dress and have my hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. I’m sitting on Diego’s lap in front of a laptop staring at the open Skype app.
“What are we doing?” I demand as I absently rub my finger over the big D on my hand. I’m still attempting to pick glue scabs off of it. His chest looks worse, though. Tatiana had a fit when she found out what we did and dosed us both up with antibiotics.
“We’re making good on a promise.”
“Okaaaaay,” I huff. “I thought we were partners.”
He bites the back of my bicep. “Remember that when she’s yelling at me.”
“Who—”
A beeping sound resounds from the computer. Diego leans forward to accept the call. Then, I’m staring straight into the big brown eyes of Brie. The sight of her has my chest squeezing and tears welling in my eyes. Last time I saw her, she was desperately trying to hold her husband’s neck together.
“Vee!” she shrieks and leans forward to touch the screen. “Has he hurt you? He promised not to!”
I look over my shoulder at Diego and he gives me a smug grin.
“Wait? Are you sitting in his lap? Oh my God,” she growls. “Is he forcing you? I’m sending Daddy and—”
I snap my gaze to hers and snarl my words. “Do not send that man anywhere near me.”
Confusion mars her features but then it sinks in. Her father killed my father. My father killed her husband.
“I’m sorry!” We both blurt out at the same time. Brie blubbers about how it isn’t my fault. None of it is either of our faults. I’m barely keeping it together because she’s bawling her eyes out. Diego hugs my middle and kisses my back, which calms me considerably.
A rogue tear slips out and I lift my hand to swipe it away.
“What is that?” Brie chokes out. “YOU BRANDED MY FRIEND?!” That comment was for Diego.
“What I did to him is far worse,” I assure her with a teary laugh. “How are you? How’s the baby?”
She stands and shows me her gigantic stomach. My friend is an adorable pregnant woman. “Two babies.”
“Oh my God!” I squeal and touch the screen. God, I miss her so much.
“We’re naming them Alejandra and Duvan,” she tells me with pride. Sadness flickers in her eyes but mostly she’s happy. Actually, I haven’t seen Brie this happy in a long time.
“We’re?”
She gives me a shy smile but doesn’t get to answer me because some muscular guy walks in to the room where she’s at and stands behind her. He’s tatted up and wears tons of scars.
“Hey, Little Mermaid,” a familiar male voice rumbles. The man leans forward, and I realize it’s Ren.
“Ren!” I cry out and laugh. “Oh, wow, you’ve been working out. You two are together now?”
He nods and presses a kiss to the top of her head. They’re both so happy, which makes me thrilled for them.
Brie grows serious and guilt crumples her features. “I tried so hard to find you. You vanished. I had everyone exhausting their resources to find you. Even Diego,” she says, motioning to him behind me.
His palm splays over my thigh and he slides it up under my dress, causing me to shiver.
“Esteban had me holed away in a shipping container,” I tell her so softly it comes out as a whisper. “He hurt me.”
Brie starts to cry and Ren comforts her. My man’s way of comforting me is slipping his finger inside my panties to tease my clit. I bite on my bottom lip to stifle a moan. With a shaky voice, I recant my entire tale up until the part where they left me on Diego’s lawn.
“Ozzie?” Brie asks in disbelief. “But he…how could he…”
I shrug. “And then Diego took me in. We made a pact.”
At this, Brie winces. “You made a deal with him? Oh, honey, his deals suck.”
I take offense to her words. Diego has been nothing but good to me for the past few weeks. “We’re business partners,” I grit out.
His palm creeps around to my grip my breast through the front of my dress. “And…”
I cover his hand w
ith mine before meeting her gaze. “And he’s my husband.”
Brie’s eyes widen and her mouth hangs open. “Oh, Vee…” Then she hisses at Diego. “What have you done? I trusted you! You promised to take care of her!”
With a growl of fury, I snap the laptop closed, ending her tirade against the only man who has my back.
“Calm down, mi diablita,” he grumbles as he slips his entire hand into my panties. He pushes a finger inside me, causing me to groan in pleasure.
“She has no idea what we have,” I snap, anger simmering in my veins. “What we have is strong. I don’t feel as though I was victimized!”
He chuckles as he slowly finger-fucks me. “Gabriella worries about you.”
I stand up abruptly and hate that it forces his hand out of me. With my hands on my hips, I turn around to glare at him. “How do you two know each other, anyway?”
He shrugs. “I bought Duvan’s territory and factory from her. I’ve looked after her ever since.”
Jealousy surges through me. “One of your weaknesses?”
All humor is wiped from his face as he also rises. Today he’s dressed fairly casual in a pair of black slacks and white-button down shirt. He’s rolled up the sleeves, revealing his toned, veiny and tattooed forearms. Quite frankly, he looks good enough to eat. My pussy clenches with need, but I’m upset with him. So help me, if they had sex…
“Get that look off your face right now,” he warns, taking a step toward me.
“Did you fuck her?” I hiss, my voice quivering. “Did she get to you like she gets to every other male on this planet?”
He launches himself at me, twisting me around with lightning speed before bending me over his desk. I scream and wriggle as he shoves my dress up. My panties are all but torn from me. And then he drives into me hard from behind. His fingers grip my ponytail and he yanks my head around, so I can see him as he fucks me.
“You’re my wife,” he snarls, his hips thrusting brutally against me. “She’s a friend.”
His thick cock stretches and fills me to the brink. With every pound into me, he brings me closer to orgasm. Our bodies were made for one another. A perfect fit.
