“Or play, just depends on how you want to look at it.”
“True. Hasta mañana, bro.”
“Hasta mañana.”
I end the call and sit back, considering my next move with this woman. Going so far as to track her is crazy but I can’t let her get us all killed. I also don’t like the idea of not knowing exactly where she is, even for a moment.
It’s obvious she doesn’t scare easily. The whole knife scene last night didn’t scare her; in fact, I think it turned her on. I think that’s the mysterious quality that drew me to her simply from seeing her picture. What I saw last night was a woman clamoring to live out her most depraved fantasies. We are going to be amazing together.
I push away from my desk and roll up the sleeves of the button-down shirt I threw on this morning. I head to the ‘time-out’ room where the girls are still talking. I open the door quietly and step inside.
The Emily Post book comes flying across the room at me, and I manage to duck just in time, catching it with one hand. I straighten and slap the book against the palm of my other hand as I take slow steps toward the bed. Brook looks pleased with herself until she sees the gleam in my eyes; then she scrambles back across the bed until she’s against the wall, white-knuckling the sheet that she’s still holding to her chest. I pick her up, sheet and all, and storm back through the door to my bedroom. What I have in mind is going to require something bigger than that twin bed.
I toss my ‘guest’ onto my bed and never look away from her as I give Foxy her marching orders with an angry wave of my hand. “Out! Vete’, Foxy.”
“Diego, cut the girl some slack, she’s still--” Foxy says quickly until I interrupt her.
“Enough! I mean it, Foxy. This is between me and my…guest. Out.”
“Girl, you’ve done it now,” she murmurs, shaking her head as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts I lunge for the bed, yanking Brook toward me by her ankles. I land on top of her and hold her wrists down by her head.
“Are you fucking crazy?” I hiss impatiently. “If anybody needs an Emily Post book on etiquette it’s you, you viper! You act like an eight-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. Grow the fuck up already.”
“If you’re so disgusted with me, then why is your cock hard?” she grumbles as I settle my hips between her thighs.
“That’s easy. Because every time I touch you, I get hard. Because I want to hold you down and fuck you rough and dirty,” I say against her neck as I breathe her in and roll my hips. “I want to take you. I want to dominate you, own you.” I trail my parted lips along her neck to her collarbone, tasting her skin and filling my nostrils with the sweet scent that is so uniquely her. “And then I want to do it all over again until you can’t remember any man but me.”
“You’re a manwhore, Diego,” she says dismissively, “not exactly the kind of man I’d ever be interested in.”
I raise up on an elbow and grasp her jaw to turn her face toward me, very much wanting her to hear the words I’m about to say.
“And you are stereotyping me, which I think is far worse. You see, a manwhore treats women like trash. I do not. Now, I make no secret that I’ve enjoyed the pleasures to be had in my own establishment, but I treat these women well. Nothing happens, ever, that they don’t choose. They set their own limits, with me and with their clientele. They want to only perform on stage? I make sure they have the most exquisite costumes. They want to take things farther with their clients in the back room, make more money to support their family? I give them a discreet, safe place to do so. That is why the most beautiful women in the world choose to work for me.”
I lower my torso, covering her body with my own once again. The time for speeches, for words, is over. Time to show her how good we’ll be together. I lean in, preparing to nibble her neck and seduce her back into the flames with me.
“Teach me.” Her words are so soft that I barely hear them. I smile as I press the length of my cock against her core.
“Oh, I intend to teach you many things.”
“I’m being serious, Diego,” she says, gently pushing at my shoulders, forcing me to, begrudgingly, stop my adoration of her silky skin in favor of more conversation. I raise my head, struck by her somber tone of voice.
“What is it you wish to learn, cara?”
“I still don’t understand why you were so determined to bring me here in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to have a fresh start that I probably couldn’t have done on my own. But why me? It’s just that…Foxy? And Maria? I’m nothing like them. They’re so beautiful and…womanly. I’ve always felt kind of gawky and awkward, and I still dress like a kid. I really have no idea why you’re interested in me. You have to admit, I don’t fit in around here.” Her cheeks take on a rosy hue as she glances up at me before once more lowering her eyes to my chest. “Teach me to look and act like…your women.”
I scowl, baffled that she is unable to see her unparalleled beauty clearly, as I do. It makes no sense. I think of the photograph that started it all, tucked away safely in my desk.
“Woman, you are perfection just as you are,” I murmur. She begins shaking her head and I swallow hard, then blurt out, “I’m not fucking anybody right now.”
Why the hell did I just say that?
She frowns, as if she’s deciding whether to believe me. Then she turns those big, blue eyes on me and whispers, her voice hoarse with need, “Diego, please.”
“No,” I say solemnly.
“What? But why not?”
“I will not teach you to be like the women who work for me. No,” I say as I trail my hand up to cup her breast, massaging the sweet flesh as her eyes widen and her lips part. “I will show you what it is to be my woman.”
I fist her hair and take her lips in a kiss that claims her for my own, that leaves no room for confusion about my plans for her. She gasps at the contact and I slip my tongue between her lips, possessing her mouth as I fully intend to possess her body. I slide my hand over her fingers that still clutch the top of the sheet. I tug at the fabric but she holds firm.
“Do not hide from me, cara. Let me see you.”
Her hand relaxes beneath mine. I pull the fabric away from her body and look my fill. Her breasts are petite yet plump and round, resting high on her chest, the firm flesh filling my hand perfectly. I cup the underside of a breast and lean down to slide my tongue over the pretty, pink tip. The caveman in me revels in her gasp of pleasure at my touch.
From the moment I laid eyes on this woman, my desire for her has been all-consuming. The sexual chemistry I had hoped for is very real, an almost tangible energy that crackles in the air whenever we are in the same room. She must feel it too as her body trembles and moves restlessly beneath my hand.
“I know you feel it, too, how we are on fire for each other,” I groan against her breast before sucking as much of the firm flesh into my mouth as I can. I want to devour her little breasts, and I smile against her skin as I think of what a fool I’ve been my whole life, thinking bigger was better. Not so.
Her body arches into mine as I slide my fingers over her flat stomach, then lower until I reach the tender flesh I crave. I dip my finger inside, growling as her pussy bears down, trying to take me inside her body any way she can. She murmurs a protest when I remove my finger, only to gasp as I stroke her glistening cream over her lips.
“You want to be taken, don’t you... You should be careful what you wish for, Brook. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” I kiss her lips, savoring her unique flavor as it lingers there. I take my time as I explain things, pausing every few words to nibble along her jaw to the tender spot just below her ear. “You will likely hear things while you are here…tales of kinky fucking…bondage…my prowess in giving pleasure laced with pain. They’re all true, I’m afraid.”
Her only reply is to look up at me through her lashes as she places her hand over my cock. I groan at the intoxicat
ing feeling of her tiny hand gripping my erection through my pants. I roll to my side so she can get to me more easily, but when she begins to rub her hand up and down my length, it’s almost too much. My balls draw up snug to my body and I have to push her hand away, nearly coming in my pants like a horny teenager. I’m waging a Herculean battle for control here now that I finally have possession of this woman within reach.
“I waited for you, you know,” I tell her smoothly as my eyes follow the path of my hand over her curves…hips, stomach, breast, neck. “These blue eyes…this angel face…you haunted my dreams.” My fingers slide around her neck, my voice solemn. “Then you came to me when you needed me to protect you. There’s no going back, cara. Now, undress me, I need to be inside you.”
She tentatively rises off the bed and the sheet falls away. Her cheeks are flushed and she moves to cover her breasts and pussy with her hands. At my disapproving frown, she lowers her hands. I stand by the bed. She removes my clothes tentatively at first, pausing to touch every new expanse of skin revealed by her efforts.
My eyes have never seen such a vision as my Brook, naked and kneeling at my feet. Her body is that of an athlete. Small, perky, natural breasts and a tight, flat stomach with toned, slim legs that go on forever. And, of course, the small cut I marked her with.
She is perfect and now she is mine.
Chapter Eleven
Brook
My body feels electrified, each nerve ending so attuned to Diego’s touch that his fingertips leave trails of fire in their wake. But as overwhelming as our physical connection is, there’s more to it than that. How is it possible that I can be in the sexual and emotional thrall of a man I have known for barely one day? How is it possible for our connection be anything more than sexual? Yet it’s far deeper than that…and it frightens me.
I’ve never felt particularly close to anyone before, having long ago accepted that emotional isolation would simply be my lot in life. So giving myself over to Diego like this is something I’m not prepared for.
As I slide his pants and briefs down his legs, I can barely breathe, like that moment of inevitable and absolute surrender when you’re poised at the top of a rollercoaster, suspended in the air for a single, breathtaking pulse of time, only to cross over to the other side and go careening down, down, down.
Diego, though…somehow he sees me. Those intense, crazy eyes of his look deep inside me. They ensnare me, even as they dare me to cross him and suffer the consequences. It’s sexy as hell.
When I finish undressing him, I remain kneeling on the floor, overwhelmed by the sight of his naked body. His gorgeous cock is fully erect, only inches from my mouth. I peer up at him, silently asking for permission. At his subtle nod, I can’t resist leaning in to flutter my tongue over the tip. His tortured groan empowers me to slide my hands up his warm, hard thighs and around his hips, pulling him toward me. As I slide my hands over his ass, I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and pull him deep into my mouth. I only manage a few slow bobs of my head before he bursts into action, lifting me away from him and tossing me onto the bed.
He joins me and pushes my knees apart, looking hungrily down at my weeping sex. His skin is deliciously hot against my chest as he blankets my body with his. He braces on his elbows, sliding his fingers into my hair as he pushes the head of his cock inside me. Another inch and I gasp at the unfamiliar pressure and bite of pain. He freezes abruptly, chest heaving above me. He gazes down at me, searching my face, before closing his eyes on a deep breath.
“Mina,” he growls as he thrusts the rest of the way in.
I cry out as he groans with pleasure and buries his face in my hair. There is pain as my barrier is breached and my narrow channel adjusts to his girth, but as he moves his hips in tiny pulses, barely moving at all, I want more. My hips rise to meet his and he raises his head to look down at me. It almost hurts, the way his cock is forcing my body to open up to him, but it’s a brand of pain that I need, that I crave; a pain that hits me somewhere deep in my core, meeting a need I never knew I had until this moment.
I reach up and loosen his hair from its ponytail. It falls over my chest, rubbing against my nipples like an extra set of fingertips. He looks different with his hair loose. From the wild, feral look in his eyes, I know he’s right: things will change now. After he marks me, taking me like he is right now, I will be his. He’ll never let me go. I’m not sure how I know that but I do.
“Touch yourself, Arroyita—my little brook, so wild and free, always running, bubbling over the rocks and obstacles in your way.”
I am only too willing to obey his command, stroking my clit and making sure to slide my fingers against his cock as it moves in and out. Every thrust elicits a pleasured cry from me as I beg him to keep going, to make it harder, faster, do anything he wants as long as he never stops. My inner walls start to flutter around his cock and I know he can feel it because he picks up the pace, slamming his hips against mine at a feverish pace.
“No more running. You’ve found your home. Your home is with me.”
The orgasm that rolls through me is the best feeling I’ve ever known…until I feel him shudder and his cock surges inside me, coating my walls with his warmth. That’s better than anything. He stays inside me for a while, absently rolling his hips and nuzzling my neck.
“Are you well?” he asks quietly, and I know what he means. He was my first and it was more intense than I could have ever imagined. I had heard lots of girls back home talking about losing their virginity, and none of them came while they did it. I had expected the first time to be something I’d endure and just hope it got better. But it was good, so good.
“Yes,” I murmur lazily, still floating somewhere above the bed in the afterglow. “I’m good. Perfect, actually.”
He raises up on one elbow, looking at me with those intense, nearly black eyes of his. Instead of whispering sweet nothings, his voice is grim. “This isn’t a game we’re playing. Sinaloa cartel is serious business. I’m going to have to call in some favors to secure your safety. Just know that if I do that, I will own you. You’ll be mine, in every sense of the word. Property. My woman. My play toy. I won’t romance you with champagne and roses. I will take you with knives and Glocks. But I think you’ll like it. I hope so. Because if you betray me, you die -- no questions asked, no second chances.”
A sense of foreboding fills me, telling me this guy isn’t playing. Years of being on the street have taught me not to underestimate the quiet, serious ones.
Diego has a lot to lose and why he’s putting it all on the line for me is still a mystery to me. I’m just glad he is because if he wasn’t I’d be dead by nightfall. I know enough about how the world of cartel operates to know that, by now, there’s a price on my head. His stare pulls me out of my thoughts and back into the present. I take a long, steadying breath and nod in agreement.
His eyes close for a long moment, then he opens them and speaks solemnly. “You are not to go anywhere alone. You stay with me or Foxy, that’s it. Don’t trust anyone and don’t under any circumstances let your guard down. Everyone is a potential enemy—everyone but me. If you fuck up and don’t do exactly what I say…it isn’t just your life you’re putting in danger, it’s mine, the girls who work for me, and the men of my cartel. This shit’s serious, and so am I.”
He waits for my nod of agreement, then rolls over and reaches for his pants where they lay on the floor by the bed. He takes out his cell phone to place a call and settles on the bed next to me, pulling me into his side. I tentatively lay my head on his chest, moving slowly just in case he objects. He doesn’t.
“Foxy, come get Brook,” he teasingly tugs a strand of my hair, “and take her to get her makeup done… Get Lilly to do it. That’s fine. I want her to look classy. Not like a tomboy and definitely not like a stripper… And keep her hair long…. I know you will… Right…Just don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll come get her when you’re done. Oh, and watch her back. The women are
n’t going to be happy to find out she’s here to stay, and that I’m…otherwise occupied now.” Another tug on my hair then he laughs and shakes his head. “No, it isn’t her I’m worried about, it’s the girls... If they start any shit with her they may be getting more than they bargained for. I don’t want her shooting somebody or cutting them to ribbons.”
He laughs quietly at something Foxy says, running his finger over my jaw line as he stares down at me. “Don’t underestimate this one. Underneath all that tomboy, she’s like a black widow, just waiting for the chance to strike. It’s going to be fun playing with her poisonous little ass.”
He ends the call then slips his pants back on and sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes firing with possessive heat as he sees the smear of blood on the sheets. He runs a hand possessively over my breast before sliding it up along my neck to stroke his thumb across my lips. “Mina,” he mouths, his seductive eyes warm on mine.
He leaves me lying prone on his bed, pausing at the door just long enough to issue a warning over his shoulder: “Disobey me and I’ll spank your ass until you’re sobbing.”
I don’t doubt it for a second, but that doesn’t stop me from admiring that tight ass and those broad shoulders. Damn, he looks good.
No sooner has he left the room than I hear a knock on the door. I scramble for cover, pulling the sheet over me. Seconds later, the doorknob turns and I’m shocked to see Foxy walk in. I’m not particularly surprised that she’s here, but that she has a key to his private suite of rooms. Jealousy jolts through me. What are they to each other? Are they fucking?
“I’m not fucking him, you know,” she says, smiling serenely as she leans against the closed door.
“How’d you know what I was thinking?”
“Easy. Every woman he touches falls in love with him. If it’s any consolation, though, I haven’t seen him like this in years, maybe ever.”
“What’s his story?” Foxy seems to know him better than anyone, so I might as well take advantage of this unexpected ‘girl time’ and see what I can find out about the mysterious man who has decided he owns me.
The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2) Page 7
