Santiago's Conquest : A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by V. F. Mason

  My body might crave his, but my stupid naïve heart… my stupid heart will have to stay oblivious to all the emotions living inside it, so I won’t fall for the monster.

  I let the fabric slip through my fingers, the dress falling from my shoulders and dropping to my feet, leaving me standing only in my white lacy panties and thigh-high stockings, completely exposed to Santiago’s hungry gaze as his sapphire eyes turn molten, hitting me with such intense desire I struggle to breath.

  “Please,” I whisper, the energy between us charging by a thousand megawatts taunting my skin and breaking the boundaries I placed on us.

  His hand travels to my hair, fisting it harshly, sending the pins flying from it onto the floor, and he forces my head back, his fingers scratching my scalp, but I welcome the pain.

  Pain makes me feel alive in this moment and shuts up the voice in my head that screams for me to stop this madness.

  Because nothing but heartbreak awaits me at the end of this journey.

  “Por favor qué, querida?” Our chests bump against each other, and I hiss when my nipples brush against his, intensifying the swirling heated pool inside me. “Dilo.”

  Wetting my dry lips and holding his stare with mine, I say, “Please soothe the need riding me hard, residing deep inside me, even though I hate you.” I hiss the last part, anger mixing with lust so strong I want to run away yet knowing I will find no solution to it without him.

  I gasp into his mouth as he captures mine in a heated kiss, plunging his tongue deep, seeking mine, then they entwine, solidifying my decision once and for all.

  The kiss is raw, passionate, awakening every nerve in my body, demanding pleasure it promises, and I circle his neck, pushing myself closer to him, and whimper when it’s not enough.

  Nothing will be enough until he feeds the lust eating me from inside out.

  His hot palms glide over my skin, squeezing my waist as if settling their ownership over my flesh before they travel down to my ass, and he lifts me up, my legs locking at his back.

  Breathing through my nose, I thread my fingers in his hair and deepen the kiss—if it’s possible. I taste tequila along with tobacco in his mouth, and then his hard-on bumps against me.

  I hear a rattling, followed by something cold touching my spine, but I pay no attention to it, focusing only on the fire whirling around us.

  Only within the inferno he ignites am I able to breathe and live without a care in the world.

  His kiss becomes more bruising; my nails digging into his shoulders earns me a hiss, and my lungs beg for a breath, so I tear my mouth away. I arch my neck when his lips suck on the skin there. I know he’ll leave angry red marks, which are neon signs to anyone looking that I belong to him.

  The moonlight shines brightly through all the windows, lighting up the darkness enough to create a blanket around us that separates us from the world, people, right and wrong. In this moment, we are in another reality where his dark deeds and my fears vanish.

  Here I can almost pretend I’m having a real wedding night with the man who plagued my dreams and fantasies alike for a long time.

  His lips slide back to my chin, nipping on it, his eyes drilling into mine. “You are mine, Briseis. Mine and only mine.”

  An odd thrill washes over me at such an idea, having this possessive man staking his claim on me, because as bad as he is, no one would ever dare to hurt his wife.

  I will be protected behind the fortress of the beast’s castle, and anyone daring to even think about hurting me will pay the price with their life.

  My core spasms, dripping against his pants-covered hard-on that teases my clit with every step he takes to reach the bedroom.

  As I tighten my hold on him, my other hand shifts from his shoulder to his chest, marveling at the carved muscles, but my heart weeps at the scars scattered all over him.

  The puckered skin is rough and uneven under my palm, telling a story of anguish and suffering that pulls at my heartstrings. Without thinking, I place several small kisses on the ones I can reach, hoping that somehow it can serve as a healing balm on the old wounds that won't ever really heal.

  A growl escapes Santiago. His gaze darkens as he walks inside the room, reaching the bed in three short steps and dropping me onto it where I land with a yelp, bouncing a little but quickly sitting up.

  My eyes widen when I notice an ice bucket and tequila bottle in his hand. Is this what I felt against my spine earlier?

  Licking my plump, puffy lips, tender from the intense kiss we shared, I ask, “What do you plan to do with it?”

  A wicked grin shapes his mouth when he puts it on the nightstand. “My innocent, innocent girl.” His gaze roams over me, scorching my skin, and he orders, “Push your knees open, querida.”

  Swallowing at his husky voice, which has the power to tempt any saint into sin, I do as he says, placing my feet wide apart. My toes curl into the mattress when I expose myself to his hot gaze, and a hot flash travels through me, my cheeks heating up at my position. Instinctively, my hands jerk, ready to cover myself up, but his growl stops me. “Too late to be shy, baby. You’re mine. All mine.”

  My core dampens even more, the wet lace irritating the soft skin, and a needy moan slips past my lips, my body craving satisfaction only he can provide. “Santiago.”

  “Show me your pussy, Briseis.” Putting my hand on my stomach, I slide it to my panties and move them to the side, gasping when my knuckles brush against my flesh, tickling under the cold air. “Ah, you’re dripping. All wet for me. Slip a finger inside.” I do as he says without hesitation, groaning when my core sucks my finger in, slipping into me easily, bringing only slight relief as it barely does anything to soothe the need growing in me. “Good girl. In and out, baby.” Moving in rhythm, I try to go as deep as possible while he watches me intently, my wetness soaking my fingers and only spiking the need rising to epic proportions.

  Throwing my head back, letting my hair fall down my spine, I press the heel of my palm over my clit, shivering under the sensation and pleasure slowly slipping into my bones. Now the slight waves start to rock me as I push my finger in and then press my palm down, creating friction that can just—

  “Stop.”

  I freeze at his order, the air sticking in my lungs in anticipation.

  He unbuttons his pants, freeing his cock, and I whimper at the sight of it, the precum leaking from the tip, the blue vein pulsing wildly. Without waiting for another order, I sit up on my knees, shifting closer toward him. Suddenly, my finger now seems like a pathetic substitute to this beast.

  Wrapping his palm around it, Santiago squeezes it before giving it a long stroke. “Feed me your finger.” I lift it to his lips, and he sucks on it. I whimper at the feel of his velvet tongue, imagining it inside me while at the same time my eyes stay fixed on his thick length, my mouth watering, wanting to know his taste.

  He lets go with a slight pop and gives himself another hard stroke before his other hand threads in my hair, tilting my head back and tearing my gaze away from his cock. He drags me closer toward him and gives me a brutal kiss, his mouth dominating mine, making my head dizzy with various sensations weaving through me one after another.

  We share a breath as he ends it, his fingers digging into my scalp, and he asks, his voice dropping, “Want a taste, querida?”

  “Yes, please,” I whisper, not caring anymore how lustful I sound or how much power it might give him.

  In this bubble of our creation, only pleasure, need, and desire remain, guiding my every breath and want.

  He steps back, pulling my head to his raging hard-on. “Open those plump lips that taste like sin and wrap them around my cock.” Leaning forward, I roll my tongue out, flicking over the head, his hips jerking at the contact, and I enjoy the musky, bitter taste before locking my mouth around him.

  He groans above me, his fingers tightening their grip on my hair, and I relax my throat, taking him deep, running my tongue over the soft skin. “Fuck, my queri
da has no gag reflex?” At the pleasure ringing in his tone, a moan escapes me, sending vibrations through his length, and he hisses. “Enjoy that, don’t you?”

  Driving him crazy?

  Oh yes.

  Slapping his other hand away, I put my palm on the base, squeezing it a little, and he pushes deeper into me. Marveling at the pulsing organ in my mouth, I glide my hand up and down, stroking him in time with my tongue working him.

  Each touch on his cock spreads more desire in my veins, zapping electricity to my clit, tickling my hair, and my panties become soaked as my stare stays trained on him.

  The way his blue eyes darken, dilating with passion, his muscles dipping, his heavy breathing filling the air and mixing with mine.

  The most handsome man I’ve ever seen who deserves his own statues where people can admire him. Seeing his gorgeous face twisted in pleasure I evoke makes me almost dizzy; the knowledge of how he’s at my mercy, and right in this moment, having this power gets me off on its own.

  Sliding my mouth backward, I suck on the head before letting him go. Then I run my nose over his length, his masculine scent twitching my nostrils and scorching my system.

  Whimpering, I shift on the bed, taking him in my mouth again, roaming my tongue over him. He tilts my head back, some control back in his gaze, as he asks, “Does your pussy feel needy, my wife?” His voice changes on the last word such possessiveness laces it. I still, feeling him pulse in my throat, and then groan, giving him my silent answer at how wet the insides of my thighs are.

  Why does he always drive me so mad that I forget about any decency?

  He palms my head, and I expect him to push himself deeper into me, ready for his assault, but instead he removes his cock from my mouth, leaving me empty everywhere. “No, no, no.” He doesn't listen to my pleas and instead sends me flying back onto the bed.

  My hair splays all around me as I lie on my back and see Santiago kicking off his pants, displaying himself in all his naked glory, and dear God this man is magnificent.

  He looms above me, placing his knees on the mattress, edging my legs apart. His palms glide over my thighs, growling at the stockings. Clearly, he is enjoying the view. I half expect him to roll them off, but he fists my panties, pulling them tight, and I arch my back when it rubs against my core, sending pleasure through my system, driving me insane and making me greedy for more. Only it doesn’t last for long, because he rips them away, throwing them over his shoulder.

  He grabs the ice bucket I forgot all about, and my brows furrow in confusion once again.

  He takes a few ice cubes out, placing them on my throat, collarbone, and stomach. I jerk at the cold contact, the sensation almost painful on my hot, taut skin.

  I still, too mesmerized and curious at his actions to utter a single word. He puts the bucket back on the nightstand and picks up the bottle next, unscrewing it.

  Swinging it up, he takes several greedy gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then it follows the bucket as he smashes his mouth on mine, and I gasp, almost coughing when I realize its full of tequila.

  The liquid burns my throat, traveling through me and warming me from head to toe, awakening everything in me as our tongues dance in a duel, the probing kiss sharing our combined taste and intensifying the fire.

  I gulp for a long breath when he moves his mouth to my chin, my throat sore from the alcohol. My head is a bit dizzy. He catches the ice on my neck with his lips and licks around it before gliding it to my mouth. I welcome the cooling texture, sucking on it wildly as it slowly melts on my tongue, oddly swirling energy around me and only adding to the pleasure my body experiences.

  Santiago settles between my legs, skimming his lips over my collarbone and trapping another ice cube between his teeth, dragging it toward my nipple and gliding it over the pointed peak, driving me insane with each swipe.

  I whisper, “Santiago.” Twisting my fingers in his hair, I press him to my breast and moan loudly when the ice mixes with his hot mouth that’s creating a heady feeling, spreading waves of goose bumps and trembling through me. I jerk my hips up, seeking his hard-on, but his hands grip me, not letting me move a muscle. “Please.”

  He flicks his tongue over my nipple then wraps his lips around it and sucks it hard, biting on the sensitive flesh and soothing any stings with yet another suck. Lavishing it with enough attention, he rolls his tongue one last time and moves to my other breast, pulling the ice cube with him and repeating his actions. The ice melts as he nibbles on my flesh, growling against it, the rumble going straight to my clit. I clamp my thighs around him, seeking some kind of friction to end the torture. His bare cock rubs over my core but barely gives it what it needs. “Please, Santiago.”

  “Patience, mi amor. Patience.”

  I tug on his hair harder, and he grunts against my stomach as he slides down the bed, his teeth grazing my skin as he leaves light kisses that I welcome. The ice he once again has in his mouth brings at least some kind of relief to the fire burning me from inside out.

  His palms slide under my ass as he sucks on my inner thigh, marking it, and he moves to the other one, just above the stocking line. “We’ll have to buy you more. I suspect I’ll like fucking you hard in nothing but them.”

  Sliding my hand down my stomach to my core, I open my lips, finally feeling his hot breath on it, and say, “You can start by fucking me with your tongue while I’m in them.”

  “Greedy, greedy girl.” His grips my ass cheeks, lifting me to his mouth, and covers my pussy, plunging his tongue so deep I almost come right there.

  Crying out, I hold on to him, arching my back as my head twists from side to side when he stabs inside me over and over again, indeed fucking me with his tongue and holding me so close his nose brushes over my clit, only adding to the sensations rocking my system. Like I’m a boat preparing for the storm that will crush me on the rocks, and nothing will ever be the same.

  Heat scorches through me, pleasure blanketing every bone and molecule in my body as Santiago gives my flesh undivided attention. I clench around him, ready to grind on him until I reach my peak.

  Slowly, he slips his tongue out, to my loud, painful groan. He sucks on my lips, one by one, licking them from bottom to top like he is drawing something on them. Then he catches my clit between his teeth and pulls it a little.

  My hips jerk up. I plant my feet firmer into the bed, opening myself wider as he runs his tongue over my folds again, whirling between them, pushing into me, in and out, scooping my wetness. I moan with each lick and flick, craving the oblivion his touch promises me.

  Heat surrounds me. Sweat covers my skin and soaks the sheets underneath me. He makes me so mad, so I pull at his hair, urging him on, yet the man doesn’t feel pain or listen to me.

  No, he continues to show what an expert he is with his tongue, knowing when to nip, touch, and lick to make me ready to burst, only to leave me unfulfilled as he enjoys playing with my body.

  He brings his hands back to my hips, holding me in place while he delivers one long lick over my flesh, occasionally sucking on my clit. Then finally his mouth moves across my stomach to my breast as he settles between my thighs once again, and I lock my legs around him.

  His hand wraps around my throat, making it impossible to look anywhere but at him, as he whispers, “You’re mine, Briseis.” The tip of his cock glides over my folds, up and down. “Say it. You belong to me.”

  Scrunching my eyes, I shake my head, not wanting to give him the power or let him have that admission.

  This is my fantasy bubble; why does he want to burst it?

  His fingers on me tighten, and he orders, “Dilo, mi esposa. I belong to you, Santiago.”

  “No, please,” I whisper brokenly, not wanting to give in, because then I’ll belong to a vicious monster.

  A monster who I won't be able to run away from in the morning.

  Here, with the moonlight as our only witness, this is just a fantasy no one will know about.

  Sex
means nothing, just a meeting of the flesh.

  What he wants is something else.

  Something that will destroy me if I'm not careful enough.

  “Dilo.”

  My eyes snap open, meeting his, something unreadable flashing in them, and I can almost feel the wild beating of our hearts as if this moment is important.

  Admitting it will be the biggest mistake of my life.

  Looking at him right now though, the way he hovers above me, all powerful, ready to claim me, I remember his scars and how deep down vulnerability lives inside his dark soul.

  And maybe a heart.

  Once upon a time, a beast fell in love with the beauty and become a dashing prince.

  Only, my life has never been a fairy tale, so hope no longer resides in my soul.

  However, my betraying heart reacts to the odd craving in his voice and succumbs to its plea and the possessiveness that for now soothes my wounds, even though tomorrow everything will be different.

  We will be enemies once again who fight on opposite sides of each other.

  Darkness and light cannot coexist with each other in peace. One of them always wins.

  Swallowing, I answer him, and his entire demeanor transforms, becoming more untamed and heated. “I belong to you. I’m yours.” And I cry out when he enters me with one swift thrust, stretching my walls around his hard length, connecting us, making us one.

  He covers my mouth, delivering a passionate, maddening kiss that shakes everything inside me as he jerks back only to slam back in again, moving us on the bed.

  His thrusts are relentless, his body unapologetic as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into me while we exchange addicting kisses as the pool of desire grows and grows within me, ready to erupt at any moment, filling us both with endless bliss.

  Shifting his hands down, he hooks my thighs over his elbows, giving himself better access, and his thrusts become even harder when he plants himself deep, pushing and pushing against me, bringing me closer to the brink. I circle his neck with my arms, needing him with me in this moment.