Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Oh.” I moaned, inadvertently drawing my shoulder blades together to give him more access.

  “I’m trying not to rush, my love—but I can’t wait much longer to be inside you,” he said before lavishing the same diligent attention on my other breast.

  My heart skipped at the thought of unleashing a fire between us that had been simmering for years. I wanted to tear through our patience, but I was grateful for Diego’s slow, careful movements that forced me to savor this.

  He took the elastic band of my underwear between his teeth and tugged it down, murmuring, “Jesucristo.”

  Calling for Jesus between my legs inspired thoughts of heaven and hell. As Diego discarded my panties, parted my thighs, and slid his tongue over my core, I was reminded of his brother’s hands threatening to trespass. No, I didn’t think of Jesus, or my Diego and his tender promises, but of the antichrist’s violent passion.

  I thought of Diego’s brother.

  I jerked my head to the other side as if it would rid him from my mind, and my eyes landed on the framed Virgin Mary over my dresser.

  “Diego,” I said, shoving away thoughts that could only be blamed on the stressful events of the past few days.

  “Hmm?” His response vibrated before he plunged his tongue inside me.

  I gripped his hair with the unnerving sensation. It felt neither good nor bad, just new. A friend of mine in California liked to brag that her boyfriend ate pussy like he was trying to get all the meat off a chicken bone, and ever since, I’d been scared just at the thought of it—but Diego’s gentle tonguing wasn’t anything like that.

  “Talia?” he asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “You shouldn’t be this . . . quiet.”

  “I’m not—I think I hear something,” I said.

  He stilled, glancing up at me. “Really?”

  I shook my head, putting a finger over my mouth to quiet him. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Papá was unlikely to be anywhere but his bedroom or study this late, and since my mother, he’d never had overnight visitors. Nobody wandered the halls of the second floor except the housekeepers, Barto, or the security team.

  “I don’t hear anything,” he whispered.

  Neither did I.

  Perhaps they’d been phantom footsteps, sleek dress shoes that’d followed me to the foot of my bed earlier that day. Cristiano had cleaned me, bandaged me—tended to me without my explicit permission. He hadn’t violated me, but if he had, he wouldn’t take care like Diego did. Cristiano would eat pussy like a wild animal feasting on its kill, fending off any other predator foolish enough to approach. I’m scarier than any monster. Twin threads of revulsion and desire pulled sharply in my tummy, and I sucked in a breath at a visual that should’ve appalled me.

  “There she is,” Diego said. He slipped his arms under my hips and gripped them as he pulled me hard onto his mouth.

  “Ay,” I breathed on a moan.

  “¿Te gusta?” he asked and then dove back in. He went from licking and sucking my most intimate spot to making love to it with his mouth. His tongue plunged deep and flicked over my clit. When he added one finger, and then another, my back bowed as I cried out.

  “This is just the warm-up,” he said, smiling at me from between my legs. “But no matter how wet I get you, or how careful I am, you might bleed.”

  “I know. The maids will think it’s my period.”

  He climbed up my body and kissed my breasts again, sending spasms of pleasure through me with each pull of my nipple into his mouth. He took one between his teeth and pinched, and I bucked my hips into him.

  “I think you might be ready for me, Tali.”

  “I’m ready,” I said, nearly panting. A flush had worked its way up my chest; I was burning up for him.

  I threaded my fingers through his hair, focusing on the way he dragged the tip of his tongue up my breastbone to the base of my neck. His fingers trailed down my side and over the curve of my hip. Just his presence made my head swim and my toes curl—what could lay ahead except more bliss as we fed a hunger we’d been forced to conceal for so long?

  I lowered my hand between us, cupping my palm over his hardness. With just that simple touch, he was already pleading me with his eyes. “Don’t stop there,” he whispered. “Give me more.”

  He pushed his underwear down and kicked it off the bed. Finally, I held him, skin on skin, the full remarkable length of him in my hand. He was bigger than I’d imagined—not that I’d known what to expect or had anything to compare it with.

  He would be my one and only. My forever.

  The perfect first time with my perfect man.

  Diego smiled down at me as if we shared the thought. “You’re glowing.”

  His hair fell in a dark curtain around his face. I pushed some strands of it behind his ear. “I’m happy. I’m ready.”

  He nudged my legs apart. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” he asked.

  I nodded and glanced between us, taking him in for the first time. Pink, long, hard—and all mine. Perfect. And naked. There would be nothing between us, and as much as I wanted to feel every inch of him, seeing him prepare to enter me also forced me from my fantasy into reality.

  “Wait,” I said.

  He lifted up on one arm. “What is it?”

  “We should get a condom,” I said.

  He took himself in his hand, sliding the head over me in a way that made me bite my lip. “You have no idea how fucking good it feels without one.”

  I moved onto my elbows. “I’m not ready for . . . you know. I’m not taking the chance that I could—get pregnant . . .”

  “I want our first time to be pure.” He grazed his fingertips over my cheek and lowered his mouth to my ear. “Let me empty myself in you, just this time. Mark you as mine, first and always.”

  A primal desire for the same rose inside me. I wanted that too, but with such uncertain days ahead of us, we couldn’t take the risk. “Then we’ll have to wait,” I said, and started to close my legs. “Once our future is more—”

  “Wait.” He grabbed one of my thighs, staying it.

  Was he forceful with you?

  I hated that Cristiano’s unfounded accusation popped into my head. Maybe violence ran in their bloodline, but Diego wasn’t his brother or his father. He’d never pressure me as Cristiano had implied.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a second, releasing my leg to get up from the bed. “You’re right.”

  Though he tried to hide it, I sensed his frustration. I was disappointed as well. I drew a throw from the end of my bed over myself as he picked up his pants from the floor. “You’re leaving?”

  “Leaving?” He gaped at me. “Not unless you toss me over the balcony, and even then, I can’t promise I won’t climb back in.” He took something from his pocket, made claws, and crawled with exaggerated movements over the bed to me. “I won’t be deterred,” he said, snatching the blanket and tossing it away. He tickled my sides until I squirmed. “I’ll keep coming back for more.”

  I laughed, relieved that he wasn’t angry. “I’m sorry, Diego,” I said. “I don’t want to stop, but—”

  “Stop? Are you mad?” He flicked up two fingers. Between them, he held a foil packet. “Nothing will ruin our first time.”

  I flopped back onto my pillow as my anticipation returned. “Thank God.”

  “Thank me for being prepared. El Señor has nada to do with it.” With a sexy grin, he used his teeth to tear open the packaging. “Still ready for me?”

  I sighed happily up at the ceiling. “I’ve been ready.”

  “Get under the covers,” he said, drawing back the comforter.

  I slipped between the sheets. He rolled on the condom and climbed in after me. “Kiss me,” he said from above.

  I lifted my head to meet his lips. We each took a breath, and then he opened my mouth with his, running his tongue over mine, nipping my bottom lip. He grasped the side of my neck, his thumb caressing my throat
as he deepened the kiss.

  “Are you still wet?” he murmured, lowering a hand to touch me. I spread my legs for him, and he found his answer there. “Good, my love. Very good. I love you, Natalia.”

  I nodded, struggling to speak as I prepared my mind and body for what was to come. “I love you too.”

  I held my breath as he lined himself up between my hips, then fisted the sheets as he began to press inside me. “Good?” he asked.

  My body resisted at first, but with a push, he slid in partway, and I exhaled with relief. Any pain I might’ve experienced was non-existent under Diego’s care. “Yes, weird.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Weird?”

  I covered my mouth. I’d meant to agree with him. It was good, of course. I was exactly where I wanted to be. But in a way, it was also strange. I had dreamed of this moment, worried it might never come. Diego had always been around, watching over me, protecting and shielding me. I remembered looking up to him as a girl, too young to recognize I was falling in love with my best friend.

  And then realizing he was more than a best friend.

  He was a man, and I was head over heels for him. I hadn’t come down to Earth since; I was still floating on cloud nine.

  In his green eyes, I saw everything—a past that consisted of pain and support and unconditional love. A present that added to the framework of our promising future. He’d looked upon me this same way many times, with hope and tenderness.

  “We’ve known each other so long. We’ve talked about this and now we’re doing it—what I’m trying to say is . . .” I glanced away. Weird? I felt silly I’d picked the wrong word to describe this.

  He turned my face back to his and pecked me. “Keep going. Tell me every thought you have in that beautiful brain.”

  I smiled a little as my muscles loosened, and I relaxed deeper into the mattress. “The weird part is that being with you now isn’t as strange as my friends said the first time would be. I’m . . . I’m happy.”

  “I know you are,” he said. “I recognize my own feelings in your eyes.”

  He slipped his arms under me to cradle my shoulders as he nuzzled my cheek. He pressed his lips there, then to the corner of my mouth.

  I wrapped my legs around him and urged him deeper.

  “You’ve been one of the only constants in my life,” he said. “There were times even Costa overlooked me. But you, well . . . your love continues to anchor me.”

  “And me,” I said.

  He relaxed on top of me, giving me more of his body weight—he finally let go. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he entered me completely. He stayed rooted there a moment as our breath synced, then drew back and drove inside me. I bit my bottom lip, expecting some kind of pain, but it only felt right. And his first plunge only made me crave the next.

  As I picked up the rhythm of his lovemaking, I met his thrusts with my hips. Each move he made came with a tender caress or a look of askance, making sure I was comfortable. He was every inch the gentleman, but I sensed there was also a hunger for me he kept bridled so as not to hurt me. I looked forward to unleashing that passion in him.

  His drives became hungrier, faster, harder. His hand slipped between us and he knew just the right place to touch me to bring me to the edge. He looked down on me, arresting my gaze. Any time I got shy or my lids started to fall shut with pleasure, he called me back. The electricity between us crackled, pulling me out of this world and into a deeper state of love with him. It was just us, nothing else existed, and suddenly my body was spasming, drawing him deeper, contracting around him as he shuddered and came along with me.

  Neither of us moved for a while, and I didn’t want it any other way. My only desire was to stay in Diego’s embrace and receive the love he showered on me.

  To be with him for as long as time would allow.

  And to bask in the glow of knowing that in only two nights, I’d officially be a de la Rosa.

  Natalia

  Bells pealed overhead as Pilar and I navigated our way to the church. We opened the gate, passed the garden, and found an unlocked door in back.

  How Diego had secured the church so quickly, and on Easter, I had no idea, but he’d sent word that someone would come for me when it was time.

  Inside, I found us an empty room with some chairs and a full-length mirror. I set down a garment bag and tote, disturbing a cloud of dust motes that sparkled in the light coming from gothic-style windows.

  “Can you get out my dress?” I asked Pilar, unpinning my hair since I’d put it up to set.

  “Why are we here?” She unzipped the bag.

  My hair fell to my waist in large shiny black curls. I looked at Pilar in the mirror. “Because I’m getting married today.”

  She froze, her hand in the bag. Slowly, she withdrew a cream lace dress. “What?”

  I turned and unzipped my Easter dress to shimmy out of it. “It’s a long story, but Diego’s in danger.”

  “And?”

  “And a wedding will get him out of it.” I reached for the bridal gown. “Hand me that.”

  “Get him out?” she asked, handing me the slinky lace. “Or bring you in?”

  I waved a hand. “We have a plan.”

  “Natalia . . .” She made a noise akin to a whimper. “It’s just, I know how important marriage is to you, and that you’ve dreamed of having a beautiful ceremony with all of your family there. You can’t do it as part of a plan.”

  I stepped into the long dress and slipped my arms into its full sleeves. “I want to marry him,” I said, walking over to take her hands. “It’s not just a plan. If it works, I’ll save Diego. If it doesn’t . . .”

  Pilar paled. “What?”

  Then at least Diego and I would have this day together.

  Heaviness weighed on my chest. I didn’t want today to be anything other than perfect, though. I took a cleansing breath and forced the thought away with a smile. “I’ll be Diego’s wife, Pila, and our two families combined will be too powerful to challenge.”

  She frowned. “Exactly what kind of danger is he in?”

  My body tightened, but I focused on survival. I needed to keep positive thoughts and prayers for all of us. I drew my hair over one shoulder and turned, then frowned at the black strappy heels on my feet. “Damn. I forgot to bring my silver shoes. Will you do me up?”

  “Where’d you even find a gown this late?” she asked, moving behind me to start with the bottom button.

  “It was my mother’s.” I admired the dress in the mirror. The high-necked ivory bodice was fitted but not tight, and the lace around my neck was intricately crafted. The dress had buttons all the way from my lower back to my nape.

  “Costa doesn’t mind that you’re wearing this?”

  “He doesn’t know. I had to sneak the dress out.”

  Pilar touched her forehead. “Dios mío, if Costa finds out I helped, he’ll put me in the grave.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be the last thing on his mind. He’ll be either too relieved to care, or he’ll kill Diego—which I hope he doesn’t, because we’re going through a lot of trouble to keep him safe from the Maldonados.”

  “The Maldonados?” She muttered something and made the sign of the cross. “That’s who he’s in trouble with?”

  “Sí. It’s scary, I know. That’s why we have to go to extreme lengths.”

  “Hopefully they involve una bruja. He’ll need black magic to immortalize himself if he has upset them. Or to resurrect him from the grave.”

  When she’d done the last button, I turned in the mirror. The dress just grazed the tops of my heels. I frowned. “It’s too short.”

  Pilar squatted to inspect the hem. “I can let it out quickly. It won’t be perfect, but because of the lace, you won’t be able to tell much.”

  Pilar got a sewing kit from my bag, squatted at my feet with a seam ripper, and did her best to lengthen it. “You won’t miss having Costa walk you down the aisle?” she asked.

 
I didn’t have to consider my answer. I would, of course. The thought of it had been plaguing me for days. “Yes,” I admitted. “But once Diego and I are safe and everything is as it should be, we’ll have a real wedding and a huge celebration, hopefully in California.” I could envision it perfectly, a cliffside resort where we could have an outdoor ceremony in late summer as the sun set on the water, then a reception on a dancefloor strung with lights. “You can be my maid of honor. I’ll throw you the bouquet so I can set you up with a handsome American.”

  “A gringo?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Bueno, un chicano.”

  She smiled a little. “What about Manu?”

  “You’re too good for him,” I said, but I knew there was slim chance of getting Pilar out of the marriage her parents were hell-bent on arranging.

  She waggled her dark eyebrows as she tugged on the lace. “Are you ready for your wedding night?”

  I failed to suppress my smile. I shouldn’t tell Pilar what Diego and I had done, but I was too giddy. “We already had it.”

  Her mouth fell open. “¿En serio? Really?”

  I nodded hard. “Friday night, he stayed with me.”

  Her eyes widened. She lowered her voice. “At your dad’s house? How was it?”

  “Magical. He was such a gentleman, and made sure I enjoyed every second.” I searched her face for judgment. When she didn’t respond, I continued, “People say your first time is bad, but it didn’t hurt at all.”

  “Well, that’s the most you can ask for.”

  I agreed. There was a great deal of passion between Diego and me that we hadn’t even explored because he’d been holding back so as not to hurt me. I could only imagine that next time, we’d be tearing off each other’s clothes like animals. “It was perfect.”

  Pilar sat back on her heels. “How’s that?”

  The dress swung at the bottoms of my heels. “Better. What am I missing?”

  “A bouquet.”

  I gasped, covering my mouth. “I completely forgot.”